A Weekend in My Village

Well, we’re heading home this weekend.

And by home, I mean southern Ontario - the Golden Triangle - Hamilton, St. Catharines, Fort Erie. And this time, it’s just a pleasure cruise. Oh how we’ve been waiting . . .

The last time I was “home” was a little more than three years ago. And that was to attend my father’s funeral. The time before that, I believe it was for my step-father’s funeral. And the time before that it was my grandmother’s funeral.

This was one of the things Neomom and I found unappealing about the RCMP lifestyle. It seemed like the only times we’d get back home was for funerals. That would eat up the ol’ vacation budget and it was usually only one of us that could go. Way too expensive to fly four people from Winnipeg to Niagara for a couple of days. It’s one of the things they don’t mention in the recruitment brochure.

So I’m really looking forward to this trip. My boys get to see Grandma R for the first time in a few years (she came to visit a few times) and they get to see Uncle J, Aunt P and, hopefully, a few of their cousins. We’ll swim, drink beer, eat wings, catch up. Awesome.

You don’t fully understand the “takes a village” concept until your village, your tribe, is more than 2,000 km away when you have your first baby, your second baby. When you’re raising your kids and they don’t have the benefit of watching Uncle J fix a car, or of sharing Uncle D’s wacky sense of humour and compassion. They don’t get to see Aunt L’s strength and the other Aunt L’s artistic, creative process.

My boys would have benefitted from all of that.

And when life occasionally handed us lemons, and the tribe was out of reach, it added to the challenge. (See how I tried to keep it positive there instead of saying something like, it made it suck a septic system milkshake?). 

Yes, during our short stays in several Manitoba towns, we picked up surrogate grandparents and surrogate uncles and aunts for the boys. And some of them were truly awesome and really helped through some difficult times. But each time, we had to say good-bye and move on.

And now, for the first time in 14.5 years, we are within 3.5 hours of family. That is just awesome. More family is only 6.5 hours away. May seem like a lot to some, but for us, that’s less than a day’s drive. For a while there in Manitoba, it was a day’s drive to the airport to catch a plane to fly home. 

So yeah, counting my blessings this morning. Looking forward to the weekend.

Have a great Thursday.

Hope . . . kinda

So yeah, we’ve been transferred. It’s an ongoing part of the RCMP festival.

We’ve been at our current post for about 4 and a half years now, and it’s time to move on. In fact, it’s a little past time.

We’ve been in Manitoba for about 15 years. We’ve had our children here. We’ve been to the north, to the south, to the “big” cities and to the tiny towns. We’ve seen a Goldeyes game, experienced the Forks and had dinner and 529 Wellington. The wife’s been to Churchill and I’ve driven a 6-tonne snowmobile trail groomer across a frozen Lake Winnipeg, as the ice cracked beneath me.

We’ve been to a Hutterite Colony, driven the TransCanada from east to west and west to east. We’ve been to the Potato Festival, the Strawberry Festival and Islendingadagurinn, the August Long Weekend in Gimli that celebrates Icelandic Heritage in the area. Mostly, however, it seems to celebrate drunken stupidity and the violence that goes with it. 

But we’ve been transferred to British Columbia and we’re excited about it. It’s an unusual transfer, because the RCMP likes to keep it’s people in one province as much as they can. But we managed to make our case to the right people and, about six months ago, we got the coveted transfer order.

And, by the time the paperwork crawled through the system, last fall’s real estate market was well into its annual hibernation. So we’ve been waiting . . . enduring the occasional showing of our home . . . all through the winter.

I can’t talk much more about it, for fear of the toxic emotion known as hope. In a “down” real estate market, it’ll kill ya.

Suffice to say we are looking forward, with measured detachment, to the sale of our home. It’s the best we can muster for now.

Another Day (More creative titles coming soon!)

Okay, let's try this again.

6 a.m.

Neomom is working night shift and will be home in an hour. Sonwun sleeps. Sontoo has been up for half an hour and is watching Curious George. I've been up for an hour and am drinking coffee.

Now you're up to date.

Last night was baseball and soccer for the boys. Sonwun's in baseball and Sontoo in soccer. They both love their respective sports and, I think, are well suited for their choices. Unfortunately, they both play on Tuesdays and Thursdays, at the same time. 

Fortunately, they play at fields pretty close to each other. So, on nights like last, when Neomom's working, I can load my bike in the back of the truck, drop Sonwun off at baseball, drive to the soccer field and park. I watch Sontoo play soccer for about half an hour, then bike over to the ball diamond to watch Sonwun play for about half an hour. Then I bike back to the soccer field, pick up Sontoo and we both drive over to catch the end of Sonwun's game and all drive home together. 

Sometimes we stop for Slushies.

And tonight, it's swimming lessons. Sontoo at 6 and Sonwun at 6:30. Each time I sign them up, I hope against hope that I can get them both in the same time slots. It's possible, but the planets have yet to align in my favour.

So, to summarize, baseball and soccer on Tuesdays and Thursdays, swimming on Mondays and Wednesdays.

Today's festivities will include washing swim shorts, baseball and soccer stuff so it's all fresh and fluffy for the next two days. 

I also have to pick up, and begin installation of, three new interior doors as part of the ongoing renovation festival. It is nearing the end. As usual, by the time we are transferred to our next fun-filled location, the renovations will be complete for the next owners of this home to enjoy. Such is the life.

Anyhoo, that's all I have for this morning. Have a great Wednesday.

Accepted!

I'd read about it . . . and I found it hard to believe. I'd never experienced it, but the other Stay-at-Home-Dads shared their stories and swore it was true. They had been rejected, told they weren't welcome, at Mommy and Me groups.

Sad, in this day and age, that such discrimination still exists. Sexism, running unchecked in church basements and community centres.

I found it so hard to believe, until it happened to me.

It was about three years ago. I'd been an RCMP spouse for about 8 years when I discovered a Facebook page for us; for RCMP spouses to talk, share, commiserate and celebrate the life we all lead.

And yeah, I applied for membership. And I was rejected. So I wrote about it here.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. A comment on the "Rejected" blog post. From another RCMP spouse, an admin on another RCMP spouse Facebook page. And she was inviting me to join. INVITING me! 

So I did. And now I'm one of us. Thanks Sandy!

So let's see, what else? Animal butt magnets . . . still cracking me up!

Oh yeah, and while we're talking about sexist behaviour . . .

A quick review of "Mom's Ultimate Magnetic Family Fridge Calendar 2012."

First off, bought this one cause I didn't see "Dad's Ultimate Magnetic Family Fridge Calendar 2012." Mostly because there wasn't one. 

Second, mine didn't have the stickers in it. Don't know who to blame for that one. Walmart? Manufacturer? Who knows, but it had no stickers. And I like stickers with my calendar.

Third, the "magnetic" part failed. It fell off. I had to Superglue it back on. Bad, bad, bad.

You'll have to wait until next year for the full review of "2013 Family Calendar," but I will say it's wording is gender neutral and it has all of the promised stickers. It's up two points already.

Have a great Hump Day!

Thankful

Happy Thanksgiving, once again.

So, I guess I should probably just follow suit and list 10 things for which I am thankful. (See, I almost said "10 things I am thankful for." Bad, wrong. This is why we write for no good reason. Just to practice.)

Oh yeah, 10 things . . .

1. I am thankful for my family. And by that I mean not only my wife and my boys, but my brothers, sisters and mother. So happy to spend this day with Neomom, Sonwun and Sontoo. Would be nice if I could be with my brothers, sisters, their spouses and kids, grandkids and all of that too. But not this year. Still galactically (looked it up, pretty sure it's spelled right) thankful they are in my life and only a phone call away when needed.

2. Thankful to be living in the Great White North. It's not a perfect country, but it's pretty damn good. Grab a beer and join me in a toast!

3. Thankful for the awesome summer I had with the boys and the Mrs. Thankful we all LOVE camping. Something I hope to share with them for a long, long, seriously long time to come.

4. Thankful someone suggested it was possible to backdate a blog, so that it looks like I'm keeping up with Blogtober. Even more thankful I figured out how to do it.

5. Thankful for the Wii on rainy days.

6. Thankful for Robinson Dill Pickles and what they represent.

7. I'm thankful for Words with Friends. I've always loved Scrabble, and now I can play it with my friends and family in a convenient and fun way! Awesome. 

Guess I should expand this one a little. While technology has its good and bad points, today I choose to be thankful for it. The internet, Skype, email all the good stuff that lets me stay in touch in a bigger way with family and friends and we move from place to place.

And, on days like today, I can blog, keep track of my Fantasy Football team, play Words with Friends with my sisters and mom and rule the seas in Battle Pirates . . . all at once!

8. I'm thankful for humour. In almost all of its forms. 

9. I'm thankful that the guy who's hosting today's Thanksgiving Dinner makes his own beer . . . and loves to share it!

10. And finally, I'm thankful that I could come up with this list. Given the time, I know I could come up with a meaningful top 100 instead of this random 10. And for that, I am also thankful.

Have a great turkey day! Cheers!

Gobble Gobble

So . . . Turkey Day, 2012.

I started doing my standard whine about not being near family during the holidays. I stopped. We've been there, written that, got the t-shirt.

My plans for tomorrow?

Good stuff. First and foremost, Thanksgiving Sunday is the day that I allow myself to open the inaugural jar of pickles. Kind of a family tradition that I'm sure is based partly on proper pickling technique and partly on a desire to make sure the pickle supply is not entirely decimated before Christmas. There were five kids in the family. Pickles went fast.

Two months to the day. 

And, as has become tradition, we will be joining some other RCMP orphans for the holiday feast. And sharing the pickles. Others will bring their family favourites and we'll feast and we'll feast and we'll feast, feast, feast, feast!

M & C are hosting this year. And M is brining the turkey. I have never eaten, to the best of my knowledge, a brined turkey. Really can't wait to try it! Should be seriously, seriously delicious. I'm serious. 

Anyhoo, those are the plans. Neomom is finishing up the nightshift tonight, will sleep until the afternoon tomorrow and then it's off for turkey!

Tomorrow, I plan to finish up the laundry, keep the minions quiet while mom sleeps, bake some squash and season it to perfection! Shave, shower, sh . . . and get ready to go.

Happy Thanksgiving weekend to all my friends in the Great White North. Whether you celebrate Sunday or Monday, here's hoping it's awesome!

Step 1: Turn off the Breaker

New year, back to the same old stuff.

After taking a lengthy Christmas break from the many renovations under way around the house, it's time to get back at it.

And thanks in part to my checkered career path, I'm fairly capable of handling most of the stuff myself. In my youth, and a little beyond, I worked in a kitchen cabinet factory, as a labourer for a construction company, as an apprentice carpenter for a building/renovation company and as a roofer and framer.

But I'll be honest. The one thing I tend to avoid is the electrical part of the game. Again, at various points in my life, I've come away on the short end of the short circuit. When working for the renovation company, I foolishly listened to the lead hand, when he told me it was safe to touch the yellow wire while removing a fluorescent light fixture.

"Hmm," he said, after I was blown off the ladder, "maybe not."

That was where I learned that "Step 1" is always, turn off the breaker before you start. Seems obvious now.

More memorable was the time I went hunting with a buddy in Wisconsin. On the way out, I was dry. So when we crossed the fence, that had a weird little wire running through it, there was no problem. On the way home, after the rain, I was soaked. And when I started climbing that same little fence, my wet leg touched that little wire.

It felt like someone, a very large someone, had whacked me with a, eight-foot, 2X12 piece of spruce. I landed on my back, about five feet from the fence. My ever-compassionate hunting buddy did not stop laughing for about three hours.

And that's when I learned that climbing an electric fence while wet is a very bad idea. Seems obvious now.

But back to the renovations. Over the years, renovating some part of every home we've lived in, I've grown tired of paying electricians. Yes, they're good. And it's easier. But they're also expensive.

And so, a couple of days ago, faced with two little electrical problems, I hit the Internet to learn a few things about do-it-yourself wiring.

Step 1 is always "turn the breaker off before you start."

I also learned that "black to brass will save your ass." Didn't know that one. And I'd explain it further, but I don't carry liability insurance. As such, my advice for anything electrical, is hire an electrician.

The point, if there is one, is that I was successful in restoring power to two kitchen outlets. I was also successful in relocating one outlet in the laundry room, and installing a new one in the rec room. For you electricians, I'm sure it seems like nothing. For me, it was a major victory, and probably saved me several hundred dollars. Yay me.

Today, I'm back in my wheelhouse. I need to trim out the new built-in entertainment cabinet I made in September and then attack bedroom 2, which needs a few studs removed, new drywall, mud, tape and paint.

And then I have to bake banana bread. And clean the kitchen. And keep the boys entertained. And get to the library.

Have a great Saturday.

Brain Vomit

Well good morning.


It's 3:40 in the blessed a.m. and I am awake . . . yet again.


But it's all good. I'm in the lobby of the Canad Inns Portage La Prairie. I am no longer in Thompson.


After a whirlwind month of selling the house in Thompson, travelling to Portage and buying a new house here, returning to Thompson and packing up, we're back here to stay. And so far it feels pretty good.


This is part of the RCMP lifestyle, I suppose. And it takes some getting used to. But we're getting there.


So, a theme for today . . . I don't know. So much has happened in the last six months and yeah, I know I haven't been writing. And I guess it's because I haven't really been at peace. Life had, and has, been turned if not upside down, at least a little off kilter.




I write best when I'm at peace, or when something really ticks me off. (I was gonna say p*sses me off, but the parental controls on this hotel computer are really touchy).


Anyhoo, leaving Thompson yesterday was bittersweet. It's nice to be leaving, but we had to say goodbye to the best neighbours, best friends, we've met since we began this little RCMP adventure. If you happen to be reading this, you know who you are. We miss you already.


But Thompson, MB, was not our favourite post, for a number of reasons. The isolation, the taxes, the generally depressing atmosphere . . . I could and probably will write more later. This post, my friends, is more about clearing my head. Which is why there really is no theme today. My brain needs to vomit and I just need to write.


So, with that in mind, let's talk about in-car DVD players.


I was always one of those dads that preached against them. "Kids don't need that. Stifles the imagination, kills creativity, teaches them to be entertained and not to seek their own entertaintment, blah, blah, blah."


Yeah, to an extent, I still believe that. But on an 8-hour drive from Thompson, to Portage La Prairie, the "I Spy" game goes something like this:

"I spy, with my little eye, something that is green."


"Is it a tree?"




"Yeah Daddy! Your turn."



"Um, okay, I spy with my little eye, something that is . . . um . . . green."



"A tree! Okay, my turn . . . I spy with my little eye, something that is green."



Gets a little tedious after the first hour or so. And yeah, we've made that drive five or six times in the last year and a half. So I broke down and bought the DVD player for the final drive. My sleep bank was depleted, my patience thin . . . it was a good decision.



Sonwun and Sontoo enjoyed Toy Story, Toy Story 2 and Cars. And Daddy enjoyed 8 hours without a single fight and only a tiny bit of whining. Nice!



And the brain vomit just keeps coming . . .



As we planned the move, sold and bought houses, we tried our best to get possession dates to match. And we did. Nov. 1 is possession for the new owners in Thompson and possession for us here in Portage. We planned to pack up the house Friday, drive Saturday, spend two nights in the hotel and meet our worldly goods at the new house Monday. The RCMP likes this, according to the IRP (Integrated Relocation Policy). And so did we. But . . .

The best laid plans . . . On Friday, after about 80 per cent of our stuff was packed on the moving truck, I was chatting with the driver. And he told me that our stuff would not be arriving until Monday, the following Monday, Nov. 8. News to me. And not good news.

We'd packed for a weekend. Not a week. Neomom's work clothes were packed away on the moving truck, and she was expected to start work Wednesday. Yeah, we'd have a house, but very little to put in it for a week.

But we're gonna make the best of it. It's so much easier to paint an empty house, do those minor repairs and maybe build that fence in the back yard. Good plan, if I had my tools. But I don't. They are, to the best of my understanding, somewhere between here and Churchhill, MB, on a truck, with everything else.

But hey, we're in a nice hotel, with a nice pool and waterslide for the boys and we'll probably get some painting done, as brushes and rollers are relatively inexpensive. The fence will just have to wait.

Oh, and did I mention that sister in law and her manfriend (are we getting too old for boyfriend?) will be arriving Wednesday? Yeah, we kinda figured on having a house set up for the arrival, you know, complete with a table and chairs for eating. Now? Well, we'll just play this one by ear. Be nice to see them regardless. Hope they don't mind camping out on the floor too much.

Well, Neomom's up and has joined me at the hotel computer in the lobby. So I must go now. Will write more later. So much stuffed into my head that needs to flow out through my fingers.

Later. And Happy Sunday!!

Sleep and the Band Aid

Oh, I wish I could sleep a little more. Should try to go back to bed right now, but I know my head will just keep swimming in a sea of plans, responsibilities, what ifs . . .

Hello all. Been a while, once again. I know. So let's catch up.

First off, we're being transferred out of Thompson, Manitoba. We're moving 8 hours south to Portage La Prairie, Manitoba. This morning in Thompson it is -1C. In Portage, it's +3. So much warmer down south.

Sold the house in Thompson, officially, last night. But here's the catch. Possession date is November 1. So that means today I must book flights for the House Hunting Trip (HHT according to the RCMP IRP). Must catch said flight Sunday morning and begin house hunting Monday.

If all goes well, we will have purchased a new home by Friday, fly home Saturday and then there are four days until the movers arrive to pack everything up.

In the meantime, we must satisfy all paperwork requirements of the RCMP IRP (Integrated Relocation Program), contact service providers such as gas, electricity, satellite, telephone, internet, mail and everyone who mails things to us. Where's that list??

Must close down life in Thompson, begin new life in Portage. It's daunting, I admit, at the best of times. But to pull it all off in a couple of weeks . . .

It's like a giant band-aid and we're gonna thoroughly test the "rip it off quick" theory. More intense pain, but for a shorter period of time.

Must pull Sonwun from Kindergarten, register him in Kindergarten.

Must empty all gas from gas-powered tools (snowblower, rototiller, lawn mower) for the move.

Must pack for HHT.

Must pack for move. Must make 8-hour drive with two kids, cat and dog.

Must say good-bye to best neighbours we've ever had.

Must meet with mover.

Must find home for dog and cat while on HHT.

Must not go insane.

Sleep would help. Need sleep. Should go back to bed right n . . . .

March Broke

March Break . . . ugh.

Not so much of a break, really. I mean the boys aren't in school yet, but they do have a couple of activities each week to help them, and me, break the monotony.

But both preschool and playgroup have been cancelled this week. Because it's March Break. Ugh.

Yeah, I try to beat the boredom with exciting trips to the drug store, the accountant's office and the grocery store. But it's just not cutting it. Who knew?

And while the weather outside seems to be cooperating, the fact of the matter is, the warmth is enough to really get things melting, providing many puddles on top of the ice. And that means we last about 10 minutes in the great outdoors before someone slips and fills their pants and boots and mitts with ice water. Did I say ugh yet?

This morning, I've got two pair of soaking boots . . . well, two complete soaking outfits, and will likely have two young charges anxious to get outside. Supposed to rain this morning.

Do I sound like Eeyore? Feeling a little like him I guess. It's been a long freakin' winter, and we're only a little more than half-way through "the year of hell." I think I've mentioned the year of hell a few times, but for those that are unfamiliar, it's the year my wife must work regular shifts and then put in an equal amount of time doing homework and research. We're not seeing much of each other.

But this too shall pass.

Anyhoo, today is bath day. Oh joy. I must also get more stuff to the accountant so that we can get the taxes filed. And this year . . . drumroll please . . . we're actually getting a refund. First time in a few years. It's not enough to retire on or anything, but it beats the hell out of having to pay. So yay.

That's all I've got for today.

Have a great Tuesday!

No pressure . . .

Okay, I admit it. I'm a little worried about our little Boxing Day Christmas party.

I have never cooked for this many people before. And I've certainly never cooked Christmas dinner for this many people. And I've most definitely never cooked Christmas dinner for this many people who are, to me, acquaintances.

This, my friends, is another part of the RCMP lifestyle. You get moved around to new and exciting places (like Thompson) and you get to meet new and exciting people. And, based on shared experiences and separation from family and friends, you tend to bond with the other RCMP folk.

Most of the RCMP families in Thompson are well separated from their families. It can feel a little lonely, especially around the holidays. So we get together. When we first arrived in Thompson, there was a party. At Thanksgiving, we had a great turkey dinner with some of the Ident families in Neomom's unit.

And now, at Christmas, it's our turn.

I've met everyone who's coming Saturday. Some of them once, some of them twice and a few as many as 10 times. They are all great people, but the added pressure comes from the fact that we've only known them for a few months. I mean, how will they react if the turkey explodes in the oven or I forget a major ingredient in the stuffing? Do we have enough chairs and table space? Can I get this all done while, at the same time, playing the gregarious host? Do we have enough ice, pop, food, booze, entertainment?

To be honest, I'm not even sure I can get a big enough turkey in our small oven, although I do have a labour-intensive back-up plan should the turkey conundrum present itself. We never sold the old oven from Gimli. It's in the garage and, if I run into trouble, I can always wrestle that bad boy down the basement stairs and plug it into the dryer outlet, right?

To top this off, Neomom is working evenings right now and will be working right up to Christmas Eve. Then she's on call Christmas Day. If she gets called out to something major . . . I could be doing this alone. And not just alone . . . alone with two kids.

Maybe I'll feel better after I go shopping today and get Mr. Turkey and the trimmings. Maybe not. There's still the cleaning to do, sometime in the next 48 hours, while taking care of the kids, getting Sonwun to swim class . . . and the house is a bit of a wreck right now. And if these were "old friends" I wouldn't worry so much about the house. With those people, if they dared bitch, I'd show them the vacuum and tell 'em to knock themselves out.

And I'm sure no one will bitch. I'm sure that everyone coming Saturday is as nice and relaxed as our old friends. It's just that we haven't had the time to really get to know each other yet, so that level of comfort has yet to develop.

Bah . . . in spite of the pressure, it will be nice to share the time with people in the same shoes we wear. My experience with the RCMP folk is that, for the most part, they are easy-going, fun-loving and not too judgmental when it comes to each other's homes and lifestyles. We all move around a lot. We all have to make new friends every few years. Most of us have been separated from old friends and family for a long time and are grateful to have someone with which to share holidays.

Wish me luck. I think I'm gonna need it.

Weekend Update

Well Happy Monday!

It's a fresh -27C here this morning in the paradise that is Thompson, Manitoba. That, for my friends in the south (meaning almost everyone I know, but I'm referring to those in the U.S.) is -16.6F.

Oh, and when you factor in the wind, it feel like -35C (-31F).

Oh Timmy . . . it looks like we'll have a white Christmas after all! (Insert picture of smarmy, squeaky clean, pajama-clad children staring and smiling vacantly out the window, circa 1950-something.)

Anywhoo . . .

It's been a busy few days. And I'd like to blame that for the blog shortage . . . so I will. I will also blame it for the disjointed post this morning. Too many thoughts, too little time.

This weekend, we finally picked up some stuff for the rec room. Two couches, a chair and ottoman and a new TV. The TV we got on Thursday (LCD=WOW) and the furniture arrived Saturday. That meant a Friday night and Saturday morning of rushed cleaning, dusting and decorating to prepare for the new arrivals. It ain't exactly top of the line stuff, but it's soft and it's a place to sit.

And, it didn't fit down the stairs to the rec room.

So, with the help of The Brick delivery guys (thanks, really!), we moved all the living room stuff into the rec room and put the new rec room stuff in the living room. It all works out in the end and I will get to watch the Olympics next year in high definition - cool!

Yesterday, we celebrated Sonwun's fourth birthday. I can't believe it's been four years already.

Unfortunately, I think it was a little disappointing for him. We did our best, decorating the rec room Saturday night with about 25 balloons, streamers and stuff. But he was under the impression (not sure why) that all of his friends would be coming to celebrate with him. And by all his friends, he means people back in Gimli as well as family members who live some 2000+ kilometers away. He misses them and talks about all of them every now and again.

But we worked with what we had and he seemed to enjoy himself.

We had the added bonus of the RCMP kids' Christmas party yesterday. I wanted to tell him that it was his "real" birthday party and that even Santa came to celebrate it with him. But I didn't.

Following that, we headed out to Boston Pizza for his birthday dinner and then home to watch The Santa Clause and The Grinch before bed. Pretty good day all around.

Neomom has a few days off this week, but will be hitting the books downstairs in the office. With furniture in the rec room, we'll be closer and she'll feel a little less isolated as the boys can now play nearby.

Anyway, that's the weekend update. I once again pledge to try to keep this a daily thing, not only to keep my writing (or make my writing) sharp, but because it will keep my from getting nasty emails from my sister-in-law, who likes reading this first thing in the a.m.

Enjoy Cupcake!

Tried a flash-free shot and it almost worked. But got some nasty lens flare. Thought I'd post it anyway. Happy Birthday Sonwun!!

Size Matters

At the request of my beloved spouse, I have toned down today's post.

I'm six kinds of pissed off today. There are a few things that will really get my goat. The look on my wife's face this morning is one of those things.

As most of you know, Neomom is a police officer. She's been with the RCMP now for more than 8 years and is currently working through Forensic Identification apprenticeship. It's what she's always wanted to do.

And part of that experience is a new uniform. Cargo pants instead of the traditional yellow stripe; navy blue shirt instead of the general duty light blue. And navy coveralls for crime scenes. It is a really nice, smart-looking uniform - one to be proud to have earned the right to wear.

She was looking forward to earning and wearing these items. As with most paramilitary style training, these things are not given for free. From the time she entered the training academy in Regina eight years ago, she's had to earn every item, from the street cop uniform to the red serge, stetson and boots that are recognized around the world.

And the forensic ident uniform is no different. She's been through a two-week assessment in Winnipeg and an intense two-month course, away from family and friends, in Ottawa. She's passed every test and is working hard, very hard, to complete her apprenticeship. She's sacrificing valuable time with family, just like every other officer in the program.

To get here, she spent seven years on the streets. She's fought with men, come home with a black eye, been involved in high-speed chases, saved at least one life and done it without complaint or commendation.

So yesterday morning, when she tried on her forensic ident uniform, the look on her face hurt me. It hurt me because she was swimming in the material— and that's after it was tailored.

She's not a big girl and the uniform that you sent her (the smallest available) was even big for me. The pants, the shirts, the coveralls - all about eight sizes too big. Clearly made for a man, and not a small man at that. The uniform she worked so hard to earn, the one she wanted to wear with pride, looks like a clown costume. And it hurts her and, by extension, it hurts me and pisses me off.

She's jumped through the same hoops as every other RCMP member, and maybe a few more due to her size. But she'll never complain about it.

But bless it, I will. The RCMP is employing qualified women as well as men. It's time the uniforms caught up with this enlightened policy. You want pride in the uniform? Then supply one that fits, dammit. You've done it with the serge, I suspect, because the public will see that one in Canada Day parades, at Remembrance Day gatherings, at the Olympics, on parade in Ottawa. Time to pony up and do the same for the ident section. What you apparently fail to realize is that she has as much pride in the ident uniform as she does in the serge. She's earned them both, you taught her to respect them and to be proud wearing them.

We're not talking about a size or two off. We're talking about equipment that, even when extensively tailored, still makes her look like a little girl playing dress-up in daddy's clothes. That's just blessing insulting to the work, the effort, the study and the sacrifice that's been put forth by my wife.

Get your blessing poopy together and respect your members. No matter what size they are. It's the right thing to do. She's put up with enough poopy just being female and just being the size she is. But she's not one to play the sex card and she's passed all of your blessing tests with flying colours. She's done the job. She's no better than any other RCMP member, but she's no worse and she deserves the same consideration as her larger counterparts. Show some motherblessing respect and find a supplier who can do the job, for all of the members. Not just the big ones.

You took what was supposed to be a proud moment and turned it into humiliation. Bless you. Bless you. Bless you. I can't properly express my anger, disgust and indignation beyond that. There are not many rewards in this first year of the ident program. It's described by those who have been through it as "the year from hell." You managed to thoroughly bless up the one small light in the long dark tunnel. If she was the litigious, complaining sort, you blessers would have a real problem on your hands. But she's not. Count your blessing blessings (the second one is actually "blessings"), get your poopy together and do what's right.

Okay, back to Peace on Earth, Good Will

and all that good stuff.

Get Up, Dress Up, Show Up

I feel like crap today.

I've been fighting some kind of cold thing for about a week and it feels like I'm now losing the battle.

Yesterday was a busy one. Second flu shot for Sontoo at 8 a.m. And I don't mean to complain (or maybe I do) but if you advertise a flu shot clinic beginning at 8 a.m., I think all of your people should be there by 7:30 setting up. That way, when your clients arrive at 8 a.m., you're ready. You're not trying to figure out the damn computer program or how to fill out the paperwork. Those giving the shots are seated and ready to go, not sitting there, filling syringes while the line of crusty toddlers gets longer and longer.

This clinic was for the second dose of the H1N1 vaccine. And that means all of the clients were between the ages of six months and three years. These are not patient patients. And odds are they brought along a parent and at least one sibling who was not old enough for school. That's a lot of impatient children and frustrated parents in a very small room, all anxious to get this over and done with.

I'm not saying anyone had to come in early, or that the Health System had to pay any overtime. I'm just saying, be ready. If that means starting at 8:30 instead of 8, so be it.

I guess I shouldn't complain too much, as we were out of there within an hour and 10 minutes. I know elsewhere in the country, people were waiting hours and hours for their shots. But I'm just saying that, with a little better organization and pre-planning, it could have gone a lot smoother.

Oh, and a quick note to some of the parents. Remember that little card they gave you at the first dose clinic? The one they told you to bring to the second clinic? The one with the date of the first dose, the child's birthdate and Manitoba Health number? BRING IT TO THE SECOND CLINIC YOU MORONS. That way I don't have to stand there for 10 minutes while you figure out when, exactly, your kids got their first shot and if that is at least 21 days ago. And I won't have to stand there for another 10 while you dig through your frickin' purse for the Manitoba Health cards.

There, that one's for the clinic workers who, I'm sure, had to put up with more than their share of impatient parents and screaming children. Must have been a rough day. But if you'd prepared a little better . . . just saying.

Anyway, after a quick stop at Tim Horton's for Daddy's cup of joy, we were off to playgroup. That went well. I'm getting to know more of the moms and am actually getting in on some of the non-breast-related conversations. Picked up a few Christmas shopping tips from those that have lived on this isolated iceberg for a few years. It was nice.

So, with my head clogged to capacity, we headed home for lunch and nap time. That's when I found the email from Neomom. She'd been called north to a crime scene and would not be home for lunch, and probably supper, possibly bed time. Ugh.

Oh well, got the boys fed and off to bed for their naps. I needed to sleep, but was afraid to. Sonwun's swimming lessons were at 4 and I had to be sure I wouldn't sleep through. So I stayed up.

Swimming lessons went well and, after phoning home and finding no one there yet, the boys and I stopped at McDonalds to pick up a couple of Happy Meals, as Daddy did not feel like cooking a damn thing. I did, this time, opt for the apples over the french fries and milk over coke. I know, it ain't Father of the Year material, but it's slightly better than the alternatives.

I managed to get them fed and to bed before taking my Tylenol night time sinus medication and passing out on the couch. Neomom woke me up and some point, there was some conversation and then I went to bed. I don't remember much of it as I was half asleep and in a well-medicated daze.

As I mentioned earlier, I still feel like crap today. But the refrigerator is empty and that means I must go shopping with the boys this morning. My challenge is to find a way to make it appealing, somehow, for Sonwun. He hates grocery shopping and the feeling, if left unattended, can be contagious.

Yesterday I received an email from my mother-in-law listing 44 life lessons, compiled by an 80-something-year-old woman. Some smarmy, but most really good stuff. Today, I must remember #36: "Your children get only one childhood," and #42: "No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up."

Have a great day!

This morning, a self-portait. Getting the blog done is step one

in the get up, dress up and show up plan.

New Roomie

Okay, we're back. Following my wife's return, my writing fell behind a little bit. But I'd like to point out it's not my fault. My life has, once again, been turned upside down.

I mean it just makes sense, doesn't it. You spend two months adjusting to being the only parent in the home, the only adult, and then someone throws a roommate into the mix. And suddenly, I'm looking for things that are not where they are supposed to be.

Take the dishcloth. Where the hell is it? It is always properly rinsed folded between the two sinks. It is the logical location for a dishcloth. And now I find it crumpled in a ball BEHIND the sink. What kind of craziness is this?

And that critically important dishevelled piece of paper upon which I had carefully written the name and phone number of the CanSkate organizer in Thompson. The one I strategically placed over by the coffee maker, near the flour canister, under some tools, somewhere on the right. IT'S GONE! It's like somebody thought it was just a piece of scrap paper and threw it away!

And that pile of clothes on the hope chest at the end of the bed. The clothes I knew were clean and knew where to find them in the morning. They're gone too. Apparently someone thinks they belong in a closet, or a dresser, or who the hell knows where. Now getting dressed begins with a game of hide and seek.

The wrong bowls are being used at breakfast, the wrong fork is given to the child at lunch, the wrong beverage is supplied at mealtime (it's juice for breakfast, milk for lunch and supper dammit!) and the coats are being put in the wrong place after outings. Even the living room blinds are closed incorrectly. They should turn to the left, no the right. Was she born in a barn?

And damn, is it good to have mommy home!

It's Wednesday, and that means I have five more days of full-time partnership at home. I have enjoyed showers that last more than 45 seconds, I've fallen asleep on the couch at 7 p.m. without a care, or a doubt, that Sonwun would be put to bed. I've eaten a meal or two that I didn't prepare. And the ones I have prepared have been appreciated by an adult and not merely looked at and declared "yucky" by an unappreciative preschooler.

I have fixed an outlet, replaced defective parts in a flourescent light and replaced a light switch that had been bothering me since we moved in. On top of it all, I have slept nearly 8 hours a night, knowing there is another set of ears in the house that can hear and respond to a crying child.

And while I was accomplishing these small domestic chores, the floors were cleared of dog hair, the bathroom counters cleaned and two loads of laundry were done. And I had nothing to do with any of it. It's no wonder I'm sleeping at night.

My blood sugar levels are dropping and, who knows, maybe I'll even get back on the ol' treadmill today. We shall see. Gotta enjoy this while it lasts. Mommy's back to work on Monday. But at least she'll be home for dinner most nights.

In spite of the horrible mess she created, it's great to have her home!

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Weekend in the Great White North. So much to be thankful for this year.

The wife just passed the last of her many incredibly intense exams at the Canadian Police College. I'm so proud of, and thankful for, her.

After two months at the Canadian Police College, she arrives back here in the paradise that is Thompson, Manitoba, today at 3:20 p.m. So very happy, happy, happy to have her back. It's been a long two months and it has tested my parenting skills, my patience and my sanity. I passed my tests as well, although I can't claim high marks.

I'm thankful for my boys. Yes, they are reaching a stage of interaction that is, at times, difficult to handle. They are each laying claim to everything in the house, from each toy, to the dog and cat, to each couch and chair, to daddy's attention. And when one feels the other has invaded his turf, he is very vocal about it and daddy, the judge and jury, is summoned at high volume.

Also very high on my list of things to be thankful for, dadstayshome.com. It's an on-line meeting place for stay-at-home dads. I've mentioned them before, but I have gained a new appreciation for the site during these last two months. When the pressure was on and I needed to vent, to rant and to be heard, this bunch of SAHDs was there. There to laugh at me, offer encouragement and let me know someone was listening. If you are a stay-at-home dad, check this site out. You won't be sorry. I've explored a lot of SAHD sites on the net and this one is by far the most active. You can almost always find someone there to talk to when you have answered the preschooler's favourite question, "why?" for the 500th time in one day. Or when you have one of those days when it's snowing outside, both kids are sick, one gets croup, the furnace breaks down and the vacuum cleaner bag explodes.

And I'm thankful for the stuff I tend to take for granted: the roof over my head, the food on the table, the health of my boys and the love of my wife.

I'm thankful for the life I have. The RCMP lifestyle is not for everyone. It's a lot of things, but it's rarely boring. I've lived in more places than I thought I would and there are more to come. I've met new friends, seen things I never expected to see and done things I never expected to do (like driving a six-tonne snowmobile trail groomer 18 miles across a frozen Lake Winnipeg, and back).

This weekend we will be joining some of my wife's colleagues for Thanksgiving Dinner and I am really looking forward to it. Adult conversation, good food, new friends, a chance to escape the house and I DON'T HAVE TO COOK IT!

Have a great weekend everyone! Happy Thanksgiving!