Yesterday was a day of firsts, and I needs to tell you about them.

The first one is part confession, part exhilarating YES moment.

I bought…

Bleach. Not just bleach (Clorox, to be precise), but bleach WIPES. The disposable kind!

I’ll give y’all a moment to get over your finger pointing and ‘well I never’ and ‘you wouldn’t!‘. Because I know you all recognize with me the tremendous importance and drama attached to this occasion.

See, they were on sale at Costco (COSTCO! MY LOVE! I WILL BE BACK SOON!), in these gorgeous little containers – if you disregard the huge warning for poison on the front that’s conveniently missing from this photo – and they just seemed so handy. An aside: you know, I had written the post so far calling them Lysol wipes, and couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t find an image for them…

Almost pretty enough to destroy the ecosystem for, no?!?

So apparently their branding attempt has so far failed. I don’t think I knew before now that they were two different brands – how many bleachy disinfectanty brands ARE there? Well hello, world above my rock.

Moving on. The big first here is that I actually disinfected my kitchen! The sink! The counter! The OTHER counter!! ZOMG.

The other first, is not as exciting. Well, unless you are Maria, who thought stopping by the side of the road was SO INTERESTING. I, did not.

Because it cost me just under 200$. Yes, I got my first ever speeding ticket.

I also got in trouble with the cop (who was driving an undercover car! Unfair I say!) for not pulling over soon enough. I didn’t think there was a shoulder that was safe to pull off onto, so I took the exit ramp to the street. Yes. This sounds a lot worse than I thought it was… Seriously, the way the road is there it turns into three different highways about 10 metres ahead, and the ramp was right there as soon as he put his lights on.

He was nice enough, and thankfully I wasn’t in a hurry (HA yeah, I was speeding though), because he took his sweet ass time. So now I can’t hold that over MC’s head no more, damn.

Saw another interesting first tonight. First time I have ever seen someone with hand sanitizer on a leash. One of those that attaches to your belt. Cramazing.

Well. I think me & my smugness are done for the night.

Oh. You should know that clean, disinfected, organized kitchen lasted about 6 hours. 12am to 6am. Come visit then, k?

Ah. I managed to clean entirely my kitchen (even the floor!) and now, I have retired to the couch with a blanket. In the half dark, because my floor lamp is in my van and I’m too cold and lazy to go get it.

The kitchen was a mess because I had my Sunday girls night (while our husbands play soccer), and we they made pizza and they we drank wine! WOO! And we played sequence.

The lamp’s in the van because Friday night was a worship night for youth group, meaning roz brought all her lamps and cushions to make a prayer room, and her incense and candles for the worship in the sanctuary. Whoa.

I burnt some of the 10 year old incense at home before I left to make sure it was still good, and wow.. olfactory connections to memory all the way! Suddenly I was back in my parent’s house in my room listening to… what.. dance mix 93? Oh.. That was a good cd…

You know what’s difficult for me lately? No, not showering. Actually, I suppose it is because I bathe every day instead so I haven’t showered in months (HAHA take THAT training lady who laughed when I said my stress go-to was a bath, saying that that would never happen after I had kids! Priorities I say!). Sorry, where was I…

Right – knowing where my social work starts and ends, where my foster parent begins and ends… and where my youth leader starts or begins, or even overlaps (because oh, does it overlap!).

I always go into youth nights thinking it’s just going to be all fun & games, literally. And I come out with my head spinning, because some youth has confided how their home life sucks/they’re cutting/they’ve developed an addiction. And I struggle with how much I social work the situation, and how much I act as their youth leader. And what’s the difference, anyway?

And then there’s how I’m constantly on the child welfare prowl… A youth jokes about how there’s never any food at home unless he’s buying it, and I’m suddenly wondering all the background questions that go along with an allegation like that. And should I call if there is an issue. And what does that do to the trust I built up. (That one was a false alarm, I was happy to find out – it was as I had hoped, teenage boys exaggerating). But being constantly on the lookout, even if unintentional, for things to call child welfare for isn’t much fun.

And it doesn’t get you any friends, either. Teen moms in the youth group worry about meeting up with me because I might call the agency on them. And you know what? I might. I can’t guaruntee that I wouldn’t. So how’s that for an opening line of a great conversation together?!

I say too much to Maria’s parents sometimes too. I got in trouble recently for being more of a worker than a foster parent. Old habits die hard, I guess. That, and I find it hard to trust the workers, that they’re doing their job the way I want them to. Because, duh, my way is obviously the best and most experienced… ahem.

Maybe it’s as my ma says; I try to put up these boundaries where they don’t need to be. Why can’t I be all those roles at once? Maybe. But sometimes, I wish I could just drop the social work/child welfare part so life could be normal.

But that would be boring. HOORAY FOR CHAOS!

Sometimes I can’t be social worky. Sometimes, I am just angry at birth parent(s). Most of the time, I can hold it in; I move on, because what use is it to dwell on what has happened in the past or what might happen to the child in the future when you have no control over it?

Today though, I’m just pissed off.  How do you continue working for reintegration with the family when they SCREWED the child up SO BAD they’re messed for life?! (note: in my head, this post has a lot more expletives. This is me, thinking of the children. Poons.) I mean really. At what point did it seem like a good idea to abuse/neglect your CHILD? What the hell was going on in your mind?! Or was anything? I’m not one for rash comments like ‘they should be sterilized’, but holy HANNAH you could try for some bloody common sense.

Oh, but you don’t even have to PARENT these kids. You get to screw em up and then WE parent them. ME, I get to get up in the middle of the night FOR TEN MONTHS because YOUR CHILD is so delayed they can’t figure out HOW TO TURN OVER.

Hey wait!! YOU SHOULD HAVE MORE KIDS. That’s a great idea!! Let’s!! Oh but wait. Don’t actually parent those ones either..

And here is where I calm down enough to go back to social working it all. You know, well mom probably had some childhood issues, and dad’s [insert other psychological answer for messed up behaviour]. And they really love their kids deep down. And everyone makes mistakes. And I do get why we work for reintegration, that the original family is best for the child.

And then I go back to wanting to slap the parents upside the head.

Excuse me, your baby is wailing again. THANKS FOR GIVING HER SUCH A GREAT HEADSTART!

RIGHT. Let’s talk about last weekend. Wow, it’s been a whole week already??

Last weekend was the big snow camp up north with tha youth group. The one I’ve been dreading for… well, weeks? Months?

The youth, of course, have been DREAMING and anxiously awaiting its arrival since this time last year. I mean it. They talk about it in the summer, for heaven’s sake.

I don’t like it because it requires driving 4 hours, with random stops for food and picking up youth WHO ARE NEVER READY WHEN YOU GET THERE. And huge snow drifts that are just perfect for shoving people into (except, you know what happens when you shove a youth in the snow? They turn around and shove you back!! TERRIBLE. Where’s the respect for eldes these days eh?) And early mornings with late nights. And having to leave my babies at home.

Of course, I’m skipping the amazing times I get to share with the youth: being part of their development, whether spiritual or emotional or whatever, is awesome. Or just being part of the singing as my entire vanload of students sings together at the top of their lungs to some Marianas Trench song as we’re zooming down the highway. Or being treated with such respect from both the girls and the boys – it’s still strange to me that they’ll listen (and do) what I say. Waiting for them to realize no bolt of lightening will strike them if they refuse…

This though? Is one of the reasons the youth love this place:

Muskoka trees

sunset over the frozen lake... yeah, it was freeeezing

In the end there wasn’t much drama within the youth group (one of the couples broke up, another had a big fight), but for me the difficulty came within the leaders. My normal co-leader was up at the camp but volunteering with running the camp, so it was me, the other leaders, and a couple parents who were helping as leaders (you need x amount of male/female leaders for y amount of students).

To make a long and overly dramatic story short, it became very difficult when the parents (2) started to make decisions for the group and basically not following ‘the rules’ of the hierarchy of the leadership. As in, I should have been able to make the decisions, but instead had to go along with them because to fight it would have meant a lot of argument and stress, and it wasn’t worth it. But it is extremely frustrating to be treated as an imbecile, WHEN I’VE RUN YOUTH GROUP FOR 5 YEARS. But I did good y’all – I saved all my ranting for ManCold when I (finally) got home. And it stretched me and all that.

All in all, I’m still not pumped for next year’s snowcampy. And yet I realized again, I loves the youth work

(Allowing a couple guys to go pee in the snow while we were in the hangar for session because they were too lazy to walk all the way back to their cabins; playing dutch blitz on a sleeping bag in the underground aka the hangout spot and KICKING ASS; having too cool teenage boys break down crying; watching as youth start relationships and end them; getting lost in a city where I should know better but the youth not caring because hey! more time together in the car!; listening to their plans for their futures; being there to see their faith and love for Jesus grow in crazy awesome ways; being told my outfit ‘looks epic’; sharing communion with them…)

Truly, your day is now complete. Because I heard you, way over yonder, pining to see if my dirty kitchen in the middle of the night looks the same as in your dreams. And I aim to please. And to show you that yes, it is actually as ramshackle as your unconcious is telling you.

But ohhh it smells good. I wish there was a smellbucket, instead of just a photobucket. Or an online scratch’n’sniff app. Excuse me while I write a quick email to Steve Jobby… (I know of a man near here who doesn’t know who Bill Gates is. WHOA. Is this a good thing? Maybe.. does he know who our Prime Minister is?? Is that more important? Maybe..)

SORRY. The photos roz, the photos.

yes, we do like our fruit here at chez roztime...

After Teddy died, I was sad, and so I decided to cheer myself I was going to learn how to cook Southern. And I ordered this book off Amazon, and it did not disappoint – it cooks with shortening. And bacon grease. It has recipes for biscuits, and fried chicken. Really, is there any better way to get over grief than skyrocketing your cholesterol?!?

I decided I was going to make her calzones recipe tonight. So I made the dough yesterday (Wow. It was so, so easy, and yet actually really tasty). *there’s only flour, yeast, and olive oil in there!

two batches for the price of one! sweetness!

Instead of photos of me making it, just imagine me trying to run around my already messy kitchen (product of having a baby with a raging ear infection that only received medication right before this calzone-making-event) about to be late for my women’s bible study night. With ManCold in the basement yelling at the soccer game. And the baby totally gurgling for him, which was cute, but I was all REALLY?? WHERE WAS THAT FOR THE LAST 12 HOURS.

See? You didn’t need a photo!

The end product:

they look oddly lumpy.. but lumps of yumminess

I know, not that tasty looking, but they were gooood.

My kitchen aftermath was kind of intense though. Going to be up late again cleaning, YAY!

ew. I didn't have the heart to show you the dirty dishes counter

My kitchen helper, Franklin, was closeby (because he knows that after this is cleaned up, I make MC’s lunch for work, and it includes peanut butter and HEAVEN, he gets a smidge).

Wooo my awesome focusing skills

The cookbook is written by Renee Drummond, who writes the famous PioneerWoman.com blog/website for everything fascinating. I thought it was going to be recipes I could never use and snarky comments, but actually? She’s really genuine – kind of person who you think would be fabulous to have over for dinner (okay, after seeing photos of her ranch, more like over to her place!). And the photos she takes of her step-by-step recipes are so normal looking! I love it. It was the perfect pick-me-up. (as were your kind words – I love you all, SMUAH!)

Okay, so that was random. But in conclusion, you should go buy that cookbook – and if I move to Alabama or Texas in the near future, you know why. Because they cook tastiness. Also, they don’t have snow and minus 20 Celsius. But you can visit me, and we can eat fried chicken together. Mmmm…

Well hello there. It’s been a while. Or at least it feels like ages, because I’ve been avoiding this here baby of mine.

This past weekend sucked. So did the week leading up to it.

All started two weekends ago, when Teddy again attacked a small dog on a walk. Not the first time, and we didn’t think it would be the last, as his aggression outside of our home was escalating. He also liked to bite men who tried to come into the house without me opening the door first, which is understandable but sadly not appreciated by salesmen, even if they’re idiots. There’s more to it than I feel like talking about, but suffice it to say, he was the cutest dog in the world – until another dog/small child walked by.

MC and I decided after that weekend that while we had tried to curb the aggression, it was likely going to get worse rather than better. And the one thing I couldn’t stomach was the thought of Teddy being taken away by Animal Control and put down by a strange vet without either of us there. So. MC took him this past Saturday. We both cried, a lot, the week before and especially this weekend. We both seemed to be  much better this week… (Thankyou, btw, for all the kind words & thoughts & gestures made by people through twitter, facebook, real life. They truly helped).

We brought Teddy home in March 2008 from the local shelter – he was a stray who had lived ‘in the wild’ for a few weeks. I took that video soon after we brought him home, because at the time? I didn’t know how to upload photos on wordpress

He had two awesome years with us. He died with MC holding him, and totally unaware of what was going on – he was still eating cookies as he went. Typical.

I shall miss his snuggliness.