Rambles of packing and hospitals....

Anyone wanna pack for me? I have four more sleeps until M-Day (Moving Day, people! Keep up with me, will ya) and I have nada packed. I always seem to wait until the last possible minute.
I was all set to start packing today, but got a little side tracked. Actually, a lot side tracked. I rushed my mother to the hospital this morning. One of her eyes (the left one for all those nosey people out there) was swollen shut this morning. It looks like a bee stung her. She has no idea why it happened. She can’t remember anything stinging her or anything like that. We spent a few hours at the hospital only to leave without seeing a doctor. It’s a long story of why. The short version is…Small, backwards, stupid towns have equally backwards, stupid people working in their hospitals. We have vowed never go back there again and drive the extra 10 to 30 minutes to go to a different hospital in a different town. It wasn’t our first time with a bad experience at said hospital. I was there about four years ago with a badly sprained wrist. I wasn’t sure if it was broken or not. I spent 4 hours in the waiting room, was placed in a room and waited for another 2 hours. A nurse walked by and looked shocked to see me sitting there. The only doctor they had on that day had gone home for dinner an hour and a half earlier and wasn’t coming back unless someone called him. Nice, eh? So glad I had Monkey down in Kitchener. My labour, c-section and so on and so on (most of you know the horrible ordeal I went through, I won’t bore you again) was horrific enough. I’m sure it would have been worse at this tiny hospital. My sister got to see the baby wing at the small town hospital as part of her parenting class in school. She said it didn’t look like anything, including medical devices, had been updated since the early 50’s. Everything, according to my sister, was a thousand times better in my two rooms in Kitchener (my labour room before the emergency c-section, and my room afterwards in the c-section ward, as I called it). I’ll admit, I loved my labour room! Wish I could have pushed out Monkey and stayed there. There was a nice little whirlpool tub, a private bathroom (I had a roommate in my other room), a 27 inch tv that I didn’t have to use earphones to listen to (only in private rooms does one not need earphones), I had a closet all to my own and the room was nice and big. My shared room was big too, but my roomie had twins and took up a lot of space. My private revenge was when Monkey cried. He didn’t cry too much, but when he did, it was loud! Everyone heard monkey; he was the loudest baby there.
And I am so off topic here. Just rambling away. So, yeah…I got no packing done today because I was at the hospital for a good chunk of it. Once we came home, I put monkey and my mother down for a nap and hopped online to chat with Steve at work. I couldn’t pack up my room when there’s a sleeping baby in there. And I just didn’t bother once the baby was awake.
I will start tomorrow. As long as I’m not working again. Have I ever mentioned I hate being a temp? Because I do. Really, really do. I’ve been thinking about going back to school…Just might…
Until next time…

Lazy Procrastination

I have been feeling lazy these past few days. I start something and have trouble finishing the task on hand. Example: I did our laundry on Wednesday. Being the good daughter and sister I am, I also did Mom, dad and Jess’ laundry too. Monkey was a big help. He would put clothes in the washer for me (gotta love front loaders), he would push the button to start the washer, he “helped” me sort the clothes (meaning he just threw clothes on the ground, but still; he felt he was helping) and he helped fold and put clothes in the basket. I got all the laundry done. I just didn’t bother to put any of the clean clothes away until today. A step up from when I was younger, mind you. I used to wash my clothes, pick through the basket every day for stuff to wear, pile the dirty clothes next to the basket and once most of, or all, the clothes from the basket were dirty again, I would wash again. I don’t think I saw the inside of my closet for a couple of years.
I like doing the laundry now. I still don’t like putting away clothes, but I do it (even if it is a couple of days later). While living with my parents again, I have volunteered to do the laundry many, many times. I’m the only one who seems to know which article of clothing belongs to who. My father is the worst. He not only confuses who’s socks are who’s, but underwear, shirts and pants too. He says he just can’t tell. Yes, because it’s hard to tell the difference between my sister’s size 2 pants and my…not size 2 pants. Ah, my dad…I love him.
Wednesday, I decided to tackle the mess I had created over in my scraping corner. I had more stuff lying around than put away. It was time to organize a little. I ended up with what looked like a big mess. But, in my head, I was getting somewhere. I got most of it put away when I stopped. I was tired and decided to finish up in the morning. I didn’t. I haven’t. It’s still there. Right around the room from me. I want to clean it up. It’s just every time I go over there, the pictures I have out from my latest project call my name. They’re begging to be scrapped. I know if I’m over there too long, I’ll start playing instead of putting away. So I’m going to do the next best thing. I’m going shopping this afternoon. I’ll deal with the little mess tonight. Or tomorrow morning.
Until next time…

Moving, Clutter & All That Jazz

We got the apartment!
We actually found out last week, but I’ve been as sick as a dog for about a week now and didn’t bother to update this.
Having a small space was not ideal; but it’s a place to call our own for a while. It’s clean and there are no holes and no mold anywhere. I’m sold. When Steve called to tell me the place is ours, I nearly cried. I don’t know if I really was that happy, or that sick. Whatever monkey had was, naturally, passed on to me. It’s been a long, hard week trying to care for a sickie when I’m a sickie myself.
Steve is signing the lease in two days and we move in on the 31st. Whoo hoo! We’re also buying a new mattress and box spring for ourselves. In the near future, we’re hoping to purchase a bedroom set (or at least pieces for a bedroom that mix well together and we can call it a set). We’re not looking for anything fancy or expensive. Just something to get ourselves started. So far we haven’t seen anything that tickles our fancy or that we can agree on. We’ll find it some day. As long as we have a mattress and some bedding, I’m happy for the time being. I say that until we actually move in and there isn’t enough room in the closet for all my…er…our clothes. I have also opted not to purchase a high chair. For those who don’t know…Monkey does not have his own high chair. I put off buying one way back due to space issues. When monkey started eating a little bit of food, I would use his Bumbo chair to feed him in. Monkey and I moved in with my parents while Steve was in Australia. Mom pulled out my old wooden high chair and dad fixed her up. Monkey was about 6 months and we’ve been using it since. I’ve decided to get one of these:

It’ll save on space. It can be used when we travel to Steve’s parents’ (a home without a high chair) and it turns into a booster chair for when the child is old enough.
I watched a Cityline episode on Monday that totally inspired me to change my life. It was a repeat show from February; c’mon, Marilyn isn’t going to do a show on Victoria Day! She’s going to be relaxing somewhere. At least she should be. Anyway…It was all about getting rid of the clutter in one’s space, in one’s life and how it can enlighten one. I fell for it hook, line and sinker. All I kept thinking about it all the clutter I have everywhere. My room is full of junk. I’m taking up at least 1/3 of my parents’ two and a half car garage (which, ironically enough can’t even fit the motorcycle because it’s so full) will clutter, I have clutter stored at my dad’s workshop and I have clutter all around both living rooms in this house (scrap stuff and toys in the basement and toys on the main level).
I am a pack rat. I can admit to that. I keep everything! I have every single letter a friend has ever snail mailed to me since I was 12. I still have my old box of memories from my first love. I still have half the stuffed animals I’ve ever owned. I still have clothes from grade six. I still have my old engagement ring and wedding band (know anyone interested in purchasing? I’ll give them a good deal). And believe it or not, I got rid of a stuff before.
I’m not one who’s into cleansing auras or anything like that; but I truly do believe by ridding myself of the clutter I don’t need, I might be helping myself somehow. I really don’t know how. It’s just a feeling I’m going off of. Maybe if I don’t have so much, I can feel freer somehow. Alright, my writing skills are lacking big time here and I’m having a hard time trying to explain where I’m going here. I’m going to stop myself right here and just say: I am going to de-clutter myself. It’s going to be so hard. I love to hang on to stuff; usually stuff I don’t need. I’m going to have to try to find the strength to just let some things go. I’ve already talked to Steve and he’s with me 100% of the way. He’ll be my rock through this. I’m positive once all the stuff I no longer need and all the stuff that has no real value to me is gone, I’m sure I’ll feel great.
Think I can do it? I’m sure someone out there is saying no. I can see Missy shaking her head if she’s reading this. How can the people who used to store mail and everything else on the kitchen table (and ate at the coffee table because there was no room at the kitchen table) do this? Simple answer…Monkey. I want to set good examples for him, as does Steve. We want to live by the rule, everything has it’s place. We want to be able to eat at the kitchen table as a family. We want to be able to find something when we’re looking for it. We’ve agreed that we lacked some serious organization before and we want to fix that now. Now bring the clutter part into all of this…Why organize clutter we don’t need? See where I’m going with this?
I will never be a minimalist. It’s just not me. I like having stuff. I’ve just reached a point where I have too much.
Let the de-cluttering, organizing journey begin!!!
Until next time…

Home is where the boogers fly.

Steve and I may be one step closer to finally having a roof over our heads again. We went to look at an apartment in a four-plex this past weekend. It’s not as big as some of the other places we’ve looked at, but it as a bunch of perks we liked. There’s two entrances; the main one with the buzzer at the front of the building and one in the back from the parking lot. There’s a large deck. Yep, I said deck, not baloney. It’s only a two bedroom, but the rooms are a very good size with huge closets in each. There are two hall closets, plus a closet in the large bathroom. The biggest perk for me was the in suite laundry. No coin, share with the rest of the building, never can get the machines when you need them here. Steve loved the in floor heating. Heat and satellite are included as well. There’s enough property for Monkey to run around and everyone in the building has small children. One even baby-sits. Maybe, if we get the place, she’ll be able to take on Monkey too. The building is only about six-years old. There’s nothing rotting, broken or scary lurking around in the dark corners. It’s in the new sub-division of the town, near a beautiful park and nature trails and only about a 15 minute walk away from the local scrapbook store. Had to get that in there somewhere. Everything in the apartment was clean, neutral and pleasant to the eye. Monkey had fun stomping on the carpets. I think he liked how cushiony they were.
So, we sent in our application for the place today. Steve faxed it from work. Fingers crossed, everyone. If all goes well, we’ll be moving in at the end of the month. And we are so ready for it. Being apart like we are right now sucks and is slowly bring on stress to our relationship. Please don’t read that wrong and think we’re fighting and will be struggling to make our relationship work. It’s not that way at all. The love, the desire to be together, the friendship and the romance is still all there. Being apart is emotionally draining and we want nothing more than to be together in a place we can call our home again.
Oh…And for those of you who say the little hell hole we called home last time in Kitchener…This place is about as big, but the layout is a lot different and it’s about, oh, 1000% better.
Monkey is sick. He has either the flu or a cold. I’m not sure which. Both are hard to peg when it’s an adult who can explain what’s sore; harder when the person can’t say more than ten words. It all started shortly after midnight. Monkey kept waking up because he couldn’t breath well lying down. I ended up bringing him into bed with Steve and I around 4am. Just so I could rest a little while propping Monkey’s shoulders and head up so he could breath a little easier. I took the day off work today to stay home and take care of my wee one. Poor little guy couldn’t go more than an hour without falling asleep. And then would only sleep for about 20 minutes at a time. I let him decide where to sleep. If he waved night-night, then he went to sleep in his crib. If he didn’t wave, he would either curl up with me on the couch or fall sleep in either the make-shift bed I made for him on the floor (couch blanket, throw pillows and his large kitty stuffed animal) or in the dog bed (he loves that thing for some reason).
He hasn’t been sick often (Thank, God!) but whenever he is, I feel so utterly useless. I, like so many parents I suppose, wish I really could make him all better with a kiss. I also wish I had purchased softer tissues so I wouldn’t have to chase and tackle him just to wipe the slimy, gross boogies that slide out of his nose. And on that note, my son has discovered how to make snot bubbles today and proceeded to try to show me and as I reached over to wipe it away, he sneezed it all over me. I had no idea so much snot could come out of such a small person.
Until next time…