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10:24 p.m. - 2003-06-22
Weekend warriors
My youngest son went to help with childcare at my oldest sons' for a couple of days this week since their dayhome provider had come down with the flu. Took his school work with him, although how much he got done with a two and three year old to care for is questionable. Brought the flu home with him.

Phone ringing just as he walked in. The problem child down the street's Mom. "Come get your video games now or I'm going to destroy them, because the boys are fighting over them." I called her back to point out destroying someone else's property wasn't acceptable. How would she like it if someone borrowed her car then smashed it up, because their children were arguing in the backseat. I also reminded her that her youngest son had been harrassing us without stop and without her intervention, because he wanted to borrow those games. She mumbled something about a long distance call and hung up on me. Her older son arrived shortly after with most of the games. He and my youngest son have been friends since kindergarten, but the mom and the youngest son, by their behaviour, have all but destroyed that. It's frustrating, but I can't take on the wilful dysfunctional behaviour the mom is demanding she and her youngest continue with.

Spent a lot of Saturday sleeping when I wasn't throwing up. Ditto for my youngest. Number four son with a twisted ankle he says happened because of a gopher hole he didn't see. Couldn't have been the football game he had just played in - of course not. Walking wounded all round.

My oldest son arrived with the wee ones later in the afternoon. They obviously were feeling much better. Playtime and movies. I slipped out at one point to get more groceries (the cupboard was pretty bare). Came back with a bus pass for my oldest son whose work situation still isn't all that stable, ice cream for the babies, and midway passes for my guys for the Stampede. That starts in two weeks, just after Canada Day celebrations. It's a promotion to ensure the locals attend - a dollar a midway ride. Every one was happy with their share of the loot.

Today was a work day. The boys were all out doing their thing - one fishing with his Dad, one with buddies at the movies - so it was quiet too. Don't get paid for any of it, but it needs to be done. Stats and reports mostly. Another resume sent out. Another hour's worth of work to go. Housework and exercises in between.

Miss Kitty appears to be close to her delivery time - she's almost as wide across the belly as she is long poor dear. So rather than chasing me up and downstairs, she now settles her bottom half on one stair, stetches up and places her front paws on the next stair and waits for the "mouse" to come sliding by. Yes, she really is enciente as they say en Francais.

I don't know how enchanted she is, but I know by 8 or so months along I never felt anything other than exhausted. Didn't matter though, with a house full of lively little boys I was kept hopping - well metaphorically - right up until delivery. I remember one time being about 8.5 months along. Sitting on the floor, talking with a friend on the phone, during what was supposed to be the boys' nap time. Glanced up just in time to see number two son (according to his explanation) about to help his fish gain a Darwinian advantage over the other males by blow drying his scales so he would be more attractive to the girl fishies. Uh huh.

What I saw was another aspect of Darwin's theories about to be fulfilled. One child about to insert an electric appliance plugged into a nearby outlet into a tank full of water. I don't remember how I got there, let alone how I got into standing position without the help of a crane, but I did move across two rooms fast enough to grab it out of his hand just before sizzle time. At that point, I was just glad he wasn't dead, so I took him back and cuddled him on my lap while explaining to my friend why I had dropped her on her head. Fortunately she had several small ones too, so she understood completely.

Several scrapes like that with each boy, each in their own inimitable style. Now is my time to get a little bit of revenge. I've been explaining to my guys that they will likely be the ones present when Miss Kitty gives birth, so they will have to be prepared to deal with it. Several wails of "but Ms Scarlett I don't know nothin 'bout birthin' no babies." Ah justice.

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