Early Monday morning, I was sleeping soundly after a whirlwind trip to Toronto over the weekend. I was suddenly startled out of my sleep at 2 am by Hubby who was in the fetal position on the bathroom floor, moaning like an injured animal. I asked him to describe his injury (I have clearly done a CPR refresher course). I quickly assessed his situation and listened as he described to me what was happening in between his gasping breaths.

Did I need to call 911? For $5o0, I think not.

I got the Wee Ladies up and dressed. We piled them into the van. Hubby searched for and found his health card. I got him some water and we left for the Emergency department.

Hubby has had some gallbladder issues in the past. We feared that this was another attack even though I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was so fatty about black bean soup, roasted chicken, and veggies. But just to be safe, we thought it necessary to take him in given he had spiked a fever and was hunched over in pain.

We stopped at the drive-thru bank machine on the way because I was going to drop him off at the front doors and keep going. He could call a cab to get him home. Plus, there was no way I was waiting around the germ infested hospital with the Wee Ladies.

He got in pretty quickly and was given a requisition form for an ultrasound and then some Tylenol 3's on the side, for good measure. He returned home and went to bed.

Hubby was out for the count the entire next day. No food, or water. Just some Gatorade later in the day and then as he began to mend he finished the day off with some cereal.

The medical web sites that I checked out all said the same thing for gallbladder attacks. Pain in the upper right abdomen, throwing up, nausea. Well, he had a fever, no appetite, and other stuff that is too graphic to describe here. I suspected that his gallbladder attack, which he definitely has had before was none other than a bad gastrointestinal flu. It's been going around.

He bounced out of bed the next day ready to take on the world after sleeping for about 24 hours straight. We are almost certain that he had the flu, but not 100% sure and so I will make sure he gets his ultrasound.

Of course I have been living this whole week in fear of the Wee Ladies and I contracting this nasty bug. I have been disinfecting, washing towels and linens non-stop. I have stocked up our food supply. I am one step away from batteries, flashlights, and jugs of water. So far, so good. By now you would think we would have been sick. Fingers crossed.

And if I get this thing, what happens? Do I get to sleep for 24 hours? Do I get to take time off from the kids and house? Hubby has to work and there are no other options. Do men get it easier than us moms when they fall ill?

Hubby called me on his way to work this morning. He was listening to the local news and it was saying how the entire ground floor of the hospital has been closed off because of an outbreak of a gastro bug. I told him, way to go. I am glad he took that bug somewhere else other than this house.

All's I'm sayin's all.

We had Family Day this past Monday, a provincial holiday where it was a long weekend. Hubby's work hosted a free family skate at a local arena and we went along for some family support. It turned out to be very exciting for all of us.

RBC is an official sponsor of the Olympics. The group had an area set up for draws, prizes, and a meet and greet with a past Olympian. There was also an official Olympic torch and photo opportunities. It was really exciting with all the buzz around the room.

EvieG held the torch first. She was jumping with excitement and we had to get her settled down in order to hold the torch properly without dropping it. We got her picture taken and she even made it into one of the local newspapers. We also had a nice family photo taken with the torch which was wonderful and one that I will frame as it serves as a great memory for these Vancouver Olympics. I then had my picture taken with the torch and the visiting Olympian. His name is Rowan Barrett and he was the captain of the Canadian basketball team at the 2000 Sydney Olympic games. He was lovely to talk to and was very gracious. Here is the photo of us below:

I was thrilled about all of this. The torch is beautiful and it was really amazing to hold it. I can only imagine how pumped the torch bearers must have been in their moment with it.

It was a memorable Family Day and we enjoyed skating with the Wee Ladies. They had a blast and for EvieG and I it was especially memorable having the opportunity to hold the torch.

The day would not have been complete without real deep fried arena fries spritzed in white vinegar from the plastic spray bottle and drowned in ketchup from the jumbo pump. Mini double pronged wooden fork included.

All's I'm sayin's all.

When I was a sassy 6 year old my parents thought it would be a good idea to travel to New Zealand for 3 weeks and leave my brothers and I with the lovely old lady who babysat us at the curling club. Living with this plump, rosy cheeked woman with the tight white curls that only the good overnight rollers could pull off was easy at first. And then we came to a head. She broke my baby doll that snuggled in when you pulled the string in her back. I was immediately full of disdain which quickly changed to sheer fear.

We always loved having her babysit us because she gave us Peak Frean Fruit Cremes and apple drink. You know the simulated apple beverage that had a tangy taste and was nothing like Allen's apple juice in a can. Once the stuff traveled through your bloodstream there was no escaping it and I can still taste it 3 decades later (as a sidebar, Nenny with Twins and I made a run to the grocery store in university and found us some good No Name apple drink for old times sake).

But then she came to stay.

There was one night after dinner when my brothers and I were fired up and horsing around. I had this cute little baby doll in a purple sleeper. It had a cute tuft of hair on top. I would pull the cord in her back and her head would would make a slow circular motion as if it was cuddling into you.

The babysitter must have had her curlers in too long and too tight because she was done with our shenanigans and was trying to get us ready for bed. That was when she leaned over me and grabbed my baby doll from me, telling me to march straight upstairs to get in my PJs or the doll was hers for the night. Just as she grabbed the head of the doll, I heard a popping sound. I took the doll from her wrinkled hands and gasped in horror as her head was hanging by the collar of her sleeper. I pulled the cord only to get a shuddering noise and jerking movement. The doll was destroyed and I was shattered.

The nasty babysitter stuck to her guns and insisted I follow through with the bed time routine. A battle ensued. I accused her of breaking the toy. She said we would fix it. I said it was broken for good and she didn't even apologize. This angered me even more. She told me to get into the bathroom to brush my teeth and I told her to Bleep Off. Yes I used the F-Bomb on her. At age 6.

She gave me a good brushing.

She grabbed my arm and lead me upstairs to the bathroom. She sat me up on the counter and turned on the tap. At this point I knew she was mad but wasn't expecting to get what was coming to me.

I got my mouth washed out with soap. For real.

Without a word she took the bar of Ivory and saturated a cloth that I assumed she was going to use to clean my face, or in between my toes. The next thing I knew, that soapy cloth was in my mouth and it was getting rid of all the bad words it could find. I almost threw up from gagging. She cleaned it out and said, "That will teach you never to speak like that again." By this point I was bawling and really wanting my mom and dad to come home to save me from this wretched woman. The end of this 'holiday' couldn't come any faster. I remember the lingering effects of the soap in my mouth and the stinging in my throat. Every time I smell Ivory, I can still taste it. That and Jack Daniels, but that is a whole other story, unlike the apple drink one. Needless to say, I spent the rest of that time in my life avoiding her at all cost and obeying the rules as I had to in order to survive.

I was never happier to see my parents when they returned home with my new stuffed koala bear and kiwi bird pin. Oh, and my Pet Rock.

The point of all of this is that I will never have to wash out the mouth of The Destroyer. She did it to herself today and the moment she came to me wreaking of vanilla anti-bacterial foam soap with her tongue hanging out and whimpering while demanding a drink of water took me back to that time. I laughed at her as I thought to myself about how I could use this to my benefit.

And so the first time she tries to swear at me I will remind her about the time she ate the soap and I would be pretty darn sure that she wouldn't want that in her mouth again.

I love it when the disciplining is done for me and all I have to do is make them think about it.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS The nasty babysitter and I eventually made up and in then end I remember her as the lady who used to take care of us. Old school styles.

If only some of the media gave them the respect they deserve during this time by not broadcasting complete footage of the accident.

As I was running on the treadmill last night, I had my iPod on and was listening to my play list. I also had CTV on the TV screen in front of me. I had the captioning on so I could read the news. I was half paying attention. As I was working on my speed, out of breath, I realized that without warning I was witnessing this horrific footage. I saw the luger on the track, flying off the track, hitting the pole, and laying lifelessly. It happened so quickly. My stomach turned. I grabbed on to the side of the treadmill. I slowed down to a walk. I felt ill. I looked around and noticed a couple other shocked runners. A moment later, I looked at the screen again and there it was again! On replay! I was disgusted. Mortified. I turned off the TV.

I could not believe that Canadian programming would show this footage. It was tasteless and absolutely unnecessary. It is a complete disrespect to Nodar and his family. It is also extremely unCanadian. Here it was, a couple of hours before the Opening Ceremonies where families, especially children, across the country would be sitting anxiously and excitedly waiting for things to get rolling only to become witness to this accident. Unacceptable.

It is one thing to discuss the accident and what went wrong. It is one thing to talk about track safety and precautions. But it is a whole other issue to overexpose the end of this talented life for dramatic purposes. Those images are not news-worthy.

I walked in the door and saw Hubby on the couch with EvieG. He looked just as disturbed as I did. He knew there were disturbing images and there was a quick warning apparently of graphic footage but he didn't realize that it would be a complete replay. I had called him on the way home warning him. He had enough time to put a cushion over EvieG's eyes. We still had to discuss with her what had happened and why we were so upset. She had a lot of questions.

I wrote an email to CTV programming communicating my disgust with their decision to air this tragedy. I know that other networks opted not to. Good for them. I am surprised that one of our main media outlets decided to go ahead with it. I am so disappointed.

Here is my email. I wrote it quickly but I think it got to the point. My heart goes out to Nodar's family and I wish them well along with the rest of the Republic of Georgia's Olympic team.

It is a vicious cycle when you are stuck at home caring for sick ones. You feel like crap, you are housebound and you eat. And then you do it all over again until you are able to escape the monotony of illness. There is nothing more you can do except clean using bleach and eat the bag of chocolate chips you bought for the cookies you were planning to bake with the healthy kids.

There is hacking at night, whining, and a bed invasion. By the morning you are crusted around your facial orfuses and the bags are swollen and a nice shade of gray. You slag through the day and end up making phone calls in between letting the toilet soak in cleaner and the sink absorb the Javex. The kids are glued in front of their second movie so it becomes the perfect time to mop the floor knowing you are guaranteed a footprint free wet floor this time. In order to entice a kid to eat some calories the day turns into one of KD at lunch and pancakes for dinner with Gatorade as a snack just as an attempt to get some electrolytes into a child.

And there is major parental snacking. Snacking out of housebound boredom. Nowhere to go, not even outside to play because sick kids don't want to play. No errands to run because sick kids are not welcome in public. No visits or trips to the Y because that is an automatic pass for the parental blacklist. What is one to do? Eat. Whatever is there. If there is nothing, improvise and make a batch of muffins using the raisins that you rediscover at the back of the pantry because you already ate the chocolate chips.

And by then end of the day, you are exhausted. Exhausted from all that you accomplished. Tired from hacking, whining kids and all that busy work.

But mostly from the snacking. And just when you think you are ready to call it quits for a few hours until the night time action begins, you have to head into the kitchen to clean up the salt crusted popcorn pot. And prepare yourself to do it all over again tomorrow.

I feel like I'm a teenager grounded from the outside world for a few days.

Where is my errand Gofer? But what happens when there is no more snack food? Will I resort to the old dried apricots?

All's I'm sayin's all.

I took the Wee Ladies out to a friend's place yesterday in the country where it is quiet with the exception of the chatty chickadees. The Wee Ladies stood around the bird feeders as the birds swooped and flew around our heads like acrobatic stunt planes. Their wings made the sound of buzzing propellers. It was so tranquil and peaceful and I think about those same moments I shared with my Dad.

We used to sit outside in the snow with sunflower seeds in our perched hands. He taught me how to be still. We would sit and wait a long time until the friendly chickadees would trust us enough to sit and take a meal from our hands or just whiz by and take a break on the top of our toques before setting off again for more dips and dives through the cedar trees.

This lesson goes far beyond feeding the birds. He taught me to how to be still at the right times so I would learn to appreciate what was around me. I learned how to stop and look around, listen and think clearly, thanks to him. This is something I try hard to instill in the Wee Ladies, especially EvieG. Patience is something I value highly in life and sometimes I feel like patience rules Hubby and I as we settle into our new life here and wait for projects and jobs to take shape.

I firmly believe everything happens for a reason as tough as some of those things may be.

As time marches on, I feel myself growing into him more as I hear him loud and clear in my own voice when talking to the Wee Ladies. I hear myself repeating things he told me, or sharing views that he shared with me. I am teaching the Wee Ladies in the same way he taught me. We go out and follow the deer tracks and talk about it as we go. We stop along the way and listen to the wind race through the branches in the woods. We talk about nature as we see it.

14 years may have passed but I still feel like his influence is just as strong as it was when he was here in real time. I will share things about him with the Wee Ladies so that they feel as if they have some connection with my father, their grandfather. I will tell them what he would think or even what he might say about a particular subject.

He was a strong force in our lives. He still is. And he continues to be an important force in the lives of the Wee Ladies.

All's I'm sayin's all.

PS February's Who's DDM is up! You can click here to go and check it out. Have a good weekend!

EvieG: Mom, when is the next winter Olympics going to be?

DDM: Well, 4 years from now. There is a Winter Olympics, then a Summer Olympics in 2 years, and then 2 more years after that is the Winter Olympics again. They take turns every 2 years.

EvieG: Oh. But why don't they have it every year?

DDM: You know, it takes a lot of time and money to plan for all of the events and for all of the athletes to train (just guessing here, not an Olympic expert).

EvieG: But why don't they have Spring and Fall Olympics?

DDM: Well, they group the sports into the ones you do in the winter time like skiing, skating, and hockey and the ones you do in the summer, like running, swimming, and rowing.

EvieG: I think they should have Olympics every season. I know what I would do for the Spring Olympics.

DDM: Oh ya? What's that?

EvieG: Watching the rain fall.

I burst out laughing. I explained that watching the rain is sometimes about all you can do in the Spring on certain days.

And where is the sport in that? Lifting the remote control.

All's I'm sayin's all.

We started with a cocktail at our place followed by some Thai food and then some simulated fun. We had some other friends with us and I am not sure what they thought of the lot of us carrying on the way we were.

The after dinner spot was a place that has simulated golf, the Wii, karaoke, a bar, and a pool table. Hubby and his boys went to shoot some golf balls at a screen while Auntie Lisa and I took the karaoke machine for a spin. I was overwhelmed by the selections. I didn't even know where to start. This was way better than singing in the van and I have been getting some decent mileage on my vocal cords lately with Sirius' Classic Vinyl station. We began with Holiday by Madonna, followed by some Mamma Mia, Sweet Caroline, Mr. Brightside, Peace Train, Wind Beneath My Wings, and Wanted Dead or Alive. Quite a variety, really. I wondered why we were the only patrons left in the place. I heard Hubby howling in the back.

It was so much fun. I haven't done the karaoke thing since high school. And it is amazing how well you think you are singing after you have had a few cocktails. I thought I was better than Bette Midler. And in my mind, Brandon Flowers would have asked me to record a duet with him for sure.

By the end of our night (which was only 11) we had to call a cab. We tried for a half hour to get through to a cab company but the weekends are busy here in our town and no one was available. The owner of the bar asked to drive us home. There were too many of us and since we didn't live too far away, I offered to run.

It was one of the coldest nights of the winter to date, I had no hat and no mittens just because I was too excited leaving the house for the evening and forgot. The owner took our other friends home, the further distance. Auntie Lisa and Hubby held each other up all the way home and Paul and I ran. We ran. And I laughed the entire way. Guffawed. The hilarious thing was that we didn't even feel the cold. We ran by a couple all bundled up and they told us to keep warm. We hollered, "Doing that right now! Staying warm!" They were the ones catching our cold breeze as we blew by. I felt like I was in school again finding my way home after a night of debauchery. I haven't done that in a very long time.

We arrived safely and out of breath. Hubby and Auntie Lisa were a little bit behind us and Hubby had the money for the babysitter. Her parents were waiting for her and she left without her pay. I felt horrible. I dropped her money off in a sealed envelope at school this morning. I am sure the office staff are not used to cash transactions coming through the door for babysitters.

Hubby was in a world of hurt yesterday. But he did say that he had a great time. I am glad he did. He deserved a good night out. Even if it meant walking home comfortably numb in minus 25 degree weather.

All's I'm sayin's all.