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December 30, 2002
Yahoo! It’s my Mom’s Today debut! Welcome aboard guys! Next week I’ll work on the intro, for now I have a month to catch you up on!
One Friday night we went over to Remo’s brother’s. They have six year old twins (a girl and a boy), a two and a half year old girl and Boss, the dog that fits in a hand. my plan was to make chocolates with the kids.
I bought the moulds, gold wrappers, gift bags and boxes to put them in so the kids could make gifts of their own to give away. I brought almonds and toasted coconut to make things a little fancier. The kids were keen but I underestimated alot. Chocolate everywhere. Each of them was angling to be closest to the chaos, they were eating half the chocolate and wired out of MY mind. It was very messy and hard to keep reasonable looking enough someone would actually eat it. After all that work and the kids had made packages for their teachers, my sister in-law reminded us we couldn’t bring anything with nuts to the school. Almonds yes, but is coconut classified as a nut? It wouldn’t matter anyway, we didn’t know what had what in it anymore, I’m not sure if the dog ate more chocolate or foil and trust me, when I suggest you skip this project.
The following day we rushed like maniacs to make it from Brandan’s skating to the kids’ Christmas party at my work. We hauled both of them upstairs to change them from arena to party attire and on the elevator down, when I met up with another employee, who by the way, didn’t look old enough to have those three kids, the elevator alarm went off and we stopped in between the fourth and fifth floor. The twenty two pound guilty culprit looked more shocked than us. Kaillan was, after all, only hitting the bright red emergency one that begged to be pressed? While security came over the speaker, I could see the colour draining from claustrophobic Remo. We got fixed up and sent on our way and I hope to never bump into that man again.
Or the one at the grocery store. Remo dropped me off so I could pick up the gingerbread house party pictures but because the police were there, he didn’t double park. I got the pictures and all of them were ruined from that crappy camera I was going to return that very minute and as I stormed to the van, yanked opened the door and jumped in, frantically flipping through the pictures and adamantly insisting the camera ruined everything, I knew. This was not Remo, this was not my van. It even smelled clean. I said I was so sorry and then got right back out. Remo pulled our silver van up behind it’s twin and we drove away. I think I gave that man a heart attack. Remo said he purposely stayed back because there was no doubt in his mind I would go charging into the wrong car. Is he evil or what?
My all time most humiliating mistaken place award has to be my grandparents party. They were huge into parties and every Boxing day they would do one. The first year they threw one after selling their house and moving into a senior’s building, was also the first year I brought my new boyfriend Remo. When we got to the lobby, I buzzed my grandparents and met their old neighbours, Ken and Alice, their daughter Jenny and
her friend. I introduced them to Remo and we got on an elevator. I’m not sure who hit the button, but we got off and they followed me to the door. Strange, I didn’t know the man who let us in, but I could hear the party was well underway. He smiled while I gave him my presents to hold and introduced everybody while I unzipped my boots. They shook his hand and started taking off their own boots. Then he said again, “who are you?”. What a strange question! I’m Allisun, the granddaughter! As I started the introductions again, I peeked around the corner and knew I was on the wrong floor. I took my boots, Remo grabbed the presents,
the old neighbours just ran and the elevator door opened. My grandfather was searching for us. My grandfather, who was seriously controlled, never late, and always did a dry run before going to anyone’s house.
Wait a minute, I’m a Mom’s Today-er! I better get back to my most precious commodity!
He’s 4, she’s one and so far, they even like each other. Brandan is for the most part passive with Kaillan, she would easily beat the crap out of him. She’s quick to give him love hugs and obviously adores him, but where he is very tolerant of her need to have everything he has, she won’t budge in that she wants it NOW. Kaillan and Remo have a routine every morning. She stays with him while he’s getting ready and gets him his socks. She sits in the bidet while he’s shaving. She waits on a chair in the closet while he spends ten minutes hooking up all his electronics to his pants (sounds interesting actually). So the other day, I trooped into the closet to try and figure out what was ready to wear when Brandan sleep-walked in. He went to kiss Kaillan. She obviously felt threatened and bit him on the nose. While he cried on my leg, I scolded Kaillan. I wanted Brandan to see she doesn’t get away with everything just because she’s little. And while I told her it was bad and no boo-boo Brandan, she stood tall and straight. Didn’t blink, didn’t flinch, looked me straight in the eyes and took it like she earned it. Her will was unnerving. Then Brandan took a swat at her hand and though I swear nothing but air actually touched her, you had to see the drama queen in action. Big huge tears flew all around the room, she collapsed on the ground and sobbed about her boo-boo. She completely fell apart. Remo and I caught eyes. It was one of our reasons for having another child. Kaillan is without question a
middle one.
Yet we were still in a panic when we saw those two pink stripes.
Heading back even farther to the dilema of a third child, I wondered. I asked for opinions. We considered the pros and cons and we mostly sat on different sides. When I was really keen, Remo reminded me that we’ve already got our hands full. When I felt he was right, he said look at them! How could we not want another? I wondered if I’d be physically up for another pregnancy. He said we could get through it together. Till he remembered the nausea. I brushed off his concerns, with a quick “it wasn’t that bad”, and it’s only for a few weeks anyway. I worried about how much easier life is for a family of four. He insisted the more, the merrier. It took more than a one shot deal, which should have allowed us more time to reconsider, but when I got that positive test, I’m not sure how to explain what I felt. Panic? Surprise? Panic?
Remo was out shovelling and came in the house for I’m not sure what. I walked into the entrance and told him the test was positive. He didn’t ask what test, just looked at me, said ok and went back out to finish shovelling. I simply sat. I think I thought. When he finally came back in, his big grin matched my eyes popping out of my head. I chanted aloud: what did we do, what did we do?
As the hours turned into days, turned into weeks I accepted this is for real. I knew I’d be feeling nauseous soon enough so I ate like a maniac, felt a little chubby even. The day of the gingerbread party was the first day I was violently ill and it’s been downhill ever since. I’m sick all day, throwing up everytime I smell or imagine food, water or air. I look like horse puckey and feeling so horrible was making me miserable. I tried so hard to keep up a great attitude and pretending at work like everything was fabulous zapped every smidgen of energy I didn’t have. On one hand, I’d beat myself up because I know many women
who would give anything to be so lucky and you have to know that in itself is powerful. But still it’s hard!
Now how to tell Dr. Bray. For those of you who followed along this saga, you might remember he had scheduled me for a uterus test of some sort. I had concurred this was only FYI and not going to actually change anything. If they found a discombobulated uterus, the good news would be I’d had two successful pregnancies, and if they didn’t then I could still give it a shot. I plowed along with my own agenda. Then I faxed him a fasten your seatbelt letter. When I spoke to Julie, she said he laughed when he got my fax and wished he would have bet money on whether I’d have done the test. Laughing meant I could have an appointment, right?
At nine weeks, after a particularly gruelling week I started spotting. Oh how to jolt your priorities back in place. Since I’ve been there, done that before I stayed bed rested that whole weekend. Apologising in my mind over and over for the doubts and regrets I had over this pregnancy. Anyone who’s spotted can understand the dread of not knowing if it’s over. On the Monday was my first Bray appointment. I got to the appointment and I daresay he looked thrilled when I walked in, we small talked over each other and I waited my turn. Just as I was filing in the room, guess who had to run to the hospital to deliver a baby? An hour and a half went by before Julie shuffled me in a room. I grabbed a magazine in case I was parked there for a while. I flipped through the pages of Pregnancy magazine just as I heard his voice in the next room. And then I saw it. My picture with Remo and Brandan on the index page for our pregnancy diary. Imagine seeing your picture in a real live magazine and who cares it was small, you could read my tag line even! My heart pounded so loud I could hear it in my ears and Dr. Bray walked in. I held my arm out and dryly told him to take my pressure because it had to be fabulous. He listened, pumped, listened and pumped some more. I asked how bad and he shook his head, saying there’s some information I’m better off not having. He wrapped up the rest of the exciting test and said everything seemed on track but because of the spotting I’d
have to have an ultrasound the next morning. I asked him if the ultrasound wasn’t good, would they tell me? He said they would call him and ask if it was ok to tell me. I suggested he should mention I was an expert
technician and would probably already know. He said he would tell them to toss me in the garbage.
WAIT! He said it fondly!
It was a long night wondering. I’m not sure what scared me more, no heartbeat or two. The technician at the hospital put the jelly on my abdomen and turned the monitor so I couldn’t see. Did that mean something?
She asked several questions about my uterus and previous pregnancies and then finally told us the pregnancy was viable. Remo was thrilled, I was relieved. Claudia happened to be in the hospital and we ran to tell her.
She and her husband, me and mine, you could just see life had us wiped. There’s just always something. My uterus is definitely bicornuate and the little peanut is settled in the left horn. Something tells me Kaillan was on the same side and with all the logic in the world, I’ve assumed that’s a great thing.
I lost about eight pounds and was dehydrated so I’m on the anti-nausea medication. My dose is less than standard so I’m not cured, but coping. I actually reached a point where I threw up blood, we were pretty freaked out. I really want this baby to be here safe, but if something happens and things don’t go well, I hit that point where I accepted that I will never again venture down this path. Dr. Bray said I can’t make a decision like that today and yes, I know I’m thinking a lot of selfish thoughts, but I can't imagine my stance will budge. Now wait a few weeks till THIS part is over and you won’t believe how perpetually happy I’ll be. High as a kite I get once the nausea is behind me. Spring fever times a hundred.
Though I hate to share the gory details, a particularly charming bonus of our holiday parties had to be the quality of our road trips. When we’re out for dinner, I really try to avoid the bathroom because if I only see a toilet I will throw up in it. Several times I just can’t make it and I’ll use bags in the car, Remo stashes them everywhere. I swear, any other family would throw up right along with me. Brandan begs to see it, as if I’m the coolest, Kaillan will emulate my sound effects with throw up noises of her own and Remo gives me play by plays of who’s in which car watching me.
We have in our house 17 moving, lighted Santa Clauses. Kaillan will kiss any one of them any given day but she is not interested in the real live one. Or wait, she is, so long as he’s eighteen feet away. Brandan sauntered up, he is after all a working man, and sat right on his lap. Santa asked what his name was and Brandan was perplexed, how come he was asking when he told him already last year? He asked what Brandan wanted and he said a horse. Three of us in unison blurted “a horse???”. When we asked Brandan after, what happened to the scooter, his tools, his face was full of regret. He needed to go back and ask for six or eight
more things. The poor kid looked completely stressed out but he had nothing on us. Because as he finalized his list and decided to become a cowboy, it was his poor parents who were stressed out of their minds when
everything cowboy was long sold out.
We did a Santa Clause movie night with some the four to six year old crowd and the movie was really cute. It was funny though because Hometime or Tooltime, whatever that show is called, was on one day and Remo asked Brandan who Tim Allen was. Santa Clause! I can’t figure out how they sort it all out in their heads.
Christmas snuck up from out of nowhere and just when I’d been ordered to take it easy, I could do anything but. Remember when I was gloating and goading about how incredibly ahead of the game I was, mostly wrapped even? I did nothing since then and WORSE, I lost the master list. All those presents and I couldn’t remember what was in any of them. We have parties up the kazoos, my parents were coming to see us for a few weeks and the house looked like a battle tore through it.
My aunt has been awesome, Brandan is running off his feet to help me (though he has no idea what’s happening) and Remo has been an incredible sweetheart. He’s doing all the laundry, choreographing meals and running the family, and so what that the laundry’s stashed everywhere and out of control and the food is processed, his never ending optimism keeps me from falling apart.
Christmas Eve: presents still had to be bought and wrapped, a camera replaced, we needed groceries and our house was close to being condemned. The tree fell over and looked worse than mangled. Everyone in the
world called, except my parents with their flight itinerary for tomorrow, and I had promised Brandan we would bake cookies for Santa Clause. We started that around 7:30. A simple shortbread, right? Over an hour later
we had rolled and cookie cutted 7 cookies. I’m sure the dough didn’t appreciate the extra cups of flour it needed to not stick to everything and we couldn’t even roll a penny sized ball without crumbles. We were
exhausted and using sparkles like plaster. Brandan’s eyes were rolling around his head so I figured if we layed down on the sofa for just five minutes he would fall asleep and I could get on with my Clause job. I
woke up at one o’clock in the morning. Stockings had to be stuffed, presents moved and set up. I woke up Remo and I swear for a whole hour, he kept answering me in Italian. I’d been watching the While You Were
Out TLC marathon half the day and seeing episodes I’d fallen asleep on only confused me more. Maybe I hadn’t actually slept?
By 3:00 am, Remo called it quits and I figured we were at least ready for morning. Then all of a sudden my favourite W.Y.W.O. designer (though I only actually decided Stephen was my favourite two hours before)
came on and I sat back down. Clever idea: he took rubber stacking bins and covered them with foam and coordinated fabrics for functional decor yet great toy storage. That ended at 4:00a.m. I went upstairs and
couldn’t sleep because I was thinking so hard about what a fool I was for doing this to myself. FINALLY sleep came about ten minutes before Brandan came in to squeal “He really came!”
Now I imagined this moment forever. One of us would race down before Brandan to take a picture of him coming around the corner, the awe in his eyes and the wonder and excitement. But I was so wiped I begged
him to go back to sleep and when even unconscious I could hear that wasn’t going to happen, I told him to go down and open the presents in his stocking. He wouldn’t even know which one was his, so I was prepared to let him open up all of them! Isn’t that awful? Kaillan started her rumblings and in went that towel.
Christmas morning bought presents out to here and I realized how much more careful I have to be on the Santa Clause front. I used the same wrapping paper on everybody’s. When I proclaimed ooohs over the doll crib Santa brought Kaillan, Brandan reminded me he’d actually bought the crib with Dee Dee. His bike he’d seen before and he was initially disappointed when Santa brought him the wrong horse. We’d found one on a stick, pressing the ears made noises, Brandan wanted a real one on springs. We explained it would never have fit in the sleigh but he rationalized he could have packed it in pieces. Then he shrugged it off with an oh well. He really was thrilled with everything and hugging and smooching us like crazy. Kaillan got so many babies and gear and can putter with them all day long. Everyone keeps saying how incredible she’s going to be with a baby but it makes me more nervous than Brandan ever did. He could’ve cared less. She drags and yanks her babies all over the place and smothers them with kisses. And if we’re around a real live one she’s all over them unless I take it in my
arms. Then, just get rid of that baby, Mom. Alas, we need to mature incredibly in the next six months.
My parents arrived and thankfully we figured out their flight with minutes to spare. My aunt, grandmother and brother came for dinner and though usually I try to make the meal extra special, I didn’t have the
wherewith all to go at it. I put everyone in charge of chopping, mashing or mixing something, condiments were straight out of their tubs, I served right from the pots and the rest is a blur. The food was good though.
Boxing Day morning my Dad made traditional breakfast while I ironed a whole basket full of laundry. I guess its sad to iron on a holiday but it was the first time in so long I felt up to it. We took off to the stores
but came home empty handed because of the lineups. Remo and Karim decided to get new home theatres and what an event. They travelled miles and had a book of notes and boxes bigger than the house showed up. On the one hand, gone is my trip to Disneyland, but my Dad is so impressed he’s never leaving.
The last few days I’ve been feeling much better. Though you have to know by now when I’m ferociously reading signs all’s still well, better is not necessarily better. I’m at eleven weeks and in a couple weeks we’re
supposed to do the triple screen test. Though we’re not genetically predisposed to anything, that our son was stillborn is reason enough for the recommendation. Bottom line? I like that you get to cross off concerns you never would have concerned about.
It’s the eve of New Year’s eve and we have a party to toss together for tomorrow. Though I haven’t actually done a list and figured out who’s coming, I have shadows of plans established. This year it’s a pyjama party
and grownups even are not allowed in unless they’re decked out in them. Prizes for the oldest and cutest. I’m telling everyone to come after supper (with a whack of kids, I think that is pure brilliance on my part) and
this year I’m working on systems. Ever since Remo bought me the ugh Foosball table I always wanted for my anniversary, the guys are volunteering like crazy to supervise the kids downstairs. Remo said it’s impossible to keep track of kids gluing sparkles when they have 28 men they’re in charge of. So this time I’m dropping names in a hat and randomly selecting teams of parents to actually entertain the kids. Best teams also win a prize. In theory, I’m thinking by 10:00, the kids will be ready for movies. We’ll put air mattresses and comforters down and have different movies for the different age groups. Once they’re settled or wait a minute, once we’ve attempted to settle them down, I’m thinking I’ll feed the grown ups. My plan at this moment is to make a ham and a roast beef tomorrow so they can make gourmet sandwiches. I got a food processor for Christmas and I’m dying for coleslaw and I was going to serve Oprah’s mashed potatoes
in martini glasses. Though they may just be lumped on a plate if I can’t find plastic ones, that was the only time Remo had an opinion. Now what I need from you is a few game ideas. If only you could come through
in the next couple hours.
Holy hannah, I’ve got to wrap this up and make some lists. I hope you guys had an incredible Christmas and I can’t wait to hear how you’re celebrating the new year. By next entry I want to hear about your resolutions. Might even steal some of them!
If you're still with me, I must say you’re my absolute favorite.
Till next week...
Allisun
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