After  the kids lost their Nanny, they re-started asking for a kitten. I love cats, but not wet food nor kitty litter, so I clung to the excuse that we couldn’t have one with Mandy because there was no place to hide the food or the litter. But, over the past little while I started to soften and became a little attached to the idea myself. 

Early in April, I took a trip west to see a friend. I promised the boys when I got back we would think about getting a kitty. First phone call home, Justin asked if I had given it any more thought.  

I arrived home on Thursday and Saturday we found Caramel. The cutest little blonde. I call him Mel, goes better with Mandy. He’s relieving the top of my dishwater of papers and pens as I type this, oh and now clawing my back. I just love him and he and Mandy have bonded quickly. When Mandy gets yelled at, he runs to her side. When Mel falls off the window ledge, Mandy tries to pick him up. They even lick each other. I’m amazed. We didn’t try to keep them apart, just let them adjust.

Mel has his own room, a basement closet, with a kitty door, where his food and debris are safe. However, cleaning out the closet started the perfect storm of spring cleaning.

Justin and Korey decided they wanted separate rooms. Justin chose the playroom, which meant 8 years of toys needed removal. The whole thing went something like:  first, clean up the toyspot in the rec-room (1 day). Then, go through the toys in the playroom and sort for keeper, garbage or yardsale (3 days). Then, move dressers, beds, bookshelves, lego tables and replant toys to rec-room (2 nights till 1:30 am). 

They are both very pleased with their own space and after a few timid moments last night and three books, Justin fell fast asleep in the bed my Daddy made me. Korey crawled in with me after his midnight trip to the washroom.

Outside, the anti-garden is complete in the front. Last weekend, I tore out the overgrown mess of shrubs in the front of the house and bought 4 nice little Alberta spruce trees. I then graded the bed, layed down the fabric to stop the weeds, edged it with plastic edging and filled it in with peastone. The side of the house received the same treatment and next week, the entire perimetre of the backyard fence will look the same. I like it and it turns out I like gardening and landscaping.  

The hardest part was getting the staples out of the coil of edging and keeping Justin entertained. Seriously, in the span of 2 hours he drove his bike, got the mail twice, played basketball, helped me dig, didn’t help, watered everything, rollerbladed, bounced on the trampoline and told me story, after story, after story.

I’m tracking a certain flight from western Canada tonight. Tomorrow is my reward. Breakfast in bed from the kids and then they are off with Dad a little bit earlier than usual.

Korey and Justin lost their Nanny last week and I lost someone who, thinking back, was a great, generous gift to me. 

Brian called me on a Friday night to let me know she was gone. The kids were asleep by then and we decided to tell them together in the morning. Morning came, and with my secret bulging from my heart, I tried to keep them calm and relaxed, knowing what they were in for. Justin, for some reason, wanted to pull out all of the Hallowe’en stuff, especially this motion-sensored tombstone with hands that crawl up and down while exclaiming, “I’m not dead yet, let me out of here.” He said he wanted to scare Daddy. I encouraged him that it probably wasn’t the best day to do this. “Oh,  because Nanny is sick and going to die?” he asked. I just nodded.

The night before, at dinner, Justin said that Nanny had to go into this thing called a coma and she wasn’t going to wake up. Korey was defiant, “Yes she will, you stupid idiot. She’ll wake up again. What are you talking about?” And then he turned away, very angry at his little brother for suggesting such a thing. With his heart breaking, he asked me if that was true. I told him that she might not but she might, we don’t really know. She did actually wake up briefly just before she passed away.

We sat them down Saturday morning and Brian explained what had happened. Justin started to cry immediately. Korey remained quiet and then said he wanted to get on the computer and asked if he could change his password to Nanny. That broke the floodgates and he sobbed uncontrollably for about 10 minutes. But, they both said they still wanted to go to the funeral, which we had talked about in preparing them.

After assessing the clothes required for the service, I was on duty to get new shoes for Korey and a tie for Justin. He wasn’t sure if he wanted a bow tie or a long tie, nor did he really comprehend the difference. But, he felt a long tie would be better. “Just about down to here,” he said, motioning to his belly button.

On Sunday night, I stopped in to see my nephew and his wife who were expecting a baby. She was so ready to deliver and with her due date on Tuesday, I wanted to see if I could help with a massage or some therapeutic touch. She had spent the day roaming the RV show trying to get things going and well, the combination worked. At midnight her water broke and she called me at 7:30 in the morning to say she was 4cm dilated. At 8:49 Nora was born. A healthy baby girl, one day early.

I picked up the boys after work and we went to meet her. Justin decided to wear his new tie for Nora. He also chose one of his favourite toys to give her, a Sesame Street Fisher Price camper. In the hospital he said that he was sad that his Nanny died but the baby helped. During his bathroom time he explained that, “Laurie’s in the hospital but she’ll be going home, cause she isn’t sick. My Nanny was sick, but she didn’t get to go home.” I nodded that he was right.

He then said to my sister, “Did you see my name in the news? Do you know why it was there? Cause my Nanny died. When you die they always put your name in the news.” He was talking about the obituary which Brian had cut out of the paper the day before.

The day of the funeral, I got them all dressed up to go and their Dad picked them up. Little troopers. I didn’t sit with the family but from 4 rows back I could hear Korey sobbing and choking on his tears. It broke my heart. Afterward, Korey wanted to leave straight away. He was too upset to attend the reception. I loaded them into the car and asked if there was anything that would help. Lego was the medicine. They picked out some LegoRacers at the local drug store and we were on our way. I strapped Justin in and closed the door. As I walked around the back of the car, I could hear him screaming and looked to see his hand jammed solidly in the top of the door. He was ok though, nothing broken nor bruised. 

The boys changed their minds about going to the committal service with their Dad and we joined them later at the family gathering. Brian thanked me for being there, saying it would have meant a lot to his mother. She was devastated when we separated, worried so much about the kids and how they would fare. But Brian and I always put them first. We have a good relationship and the ability to work together to ensure they are safe and secure. Brian always tells them that even though we don’t live together, we are still a family and we take care of each other.

I had the rest of the week off for March Break and Korey had a hockey tournament. We got an extra game on Thursday morning and he scored his very first goal— on defence, from the blueline. We watched the video last night and you can hear the coach yelling, “Put it in deep Korey.” And then you can see the puck going toward the net, but the camera didn’t actually catch the goal, nor Korey’s reaction. He said he fell as soon as he shot it. His teammates were all excited, “Korey scored. Way to go Korey. Great shot!”  What a proud moment. His friend Josh also got his first goal in the same game.  It is very true that any hockey is good hockey as long as it’s evenly matched. Watching these 7 year olds live or on video is just as exciting as an NHL game, in my opinion.

After the game, we went to the canteen and there were lots of people sitting around waiting for games to begin. My BlackBerry pinged and I chose to respond to a message from work. The kids were running around. I told them to stop running.  A few minutes later a gaggle of kids had joined them in their running game. I got up to tell them to stop and when I went to take a step, I tripped over my feet, or the chair or something and landed on my knees on the tile floor— the rest of me landing face first with my arms stretched out overhead. I could hear myself saying as I was going down, “I told you to stop running.” I’ll never forget the look on this little girl’s face before they all scurried off.  My demon BlackBerry slid across the floor, almost going under a vending machine. I lay there in pain for a few seconds, unable to get up and then trying my best not to cry, I limped back to my seat, feigned the “f” word and resumed my message. I apologized to the parents sitting there (who didn’t even try to help me, by the way, mighty neighbourly) and held back my tears. The kids resumed their running elsewhere. I then wobbled outside full of pain and embarrassment. My sister had a good laugh when she got back to the canteen and the kids told her what happened. One guy who witnessed it couldn’t contain himself and laughed right along with them.

That was the same day,  in the middle of a happy moment, when Justin stopped short, turned to me and with a very perplexing look, said “You know Mommy when someone dies, it’s like it really didn’t happen. Like the person who told you was lying. But then you know it’s true.” I told him that was a very good way to explain it.

I also told them that it is normal to cry when they think about their Nanny being gone, but as time passes, there will be less tears and more smiles when they remember her.

My kids will never forget their Nanny. They loved her so much. “I still have two Nannies. One is in real life and one is in my heart,” says Justin.  I think his Dad told him that.

I’m learning a lot from my kids. I enjoy their honesty and let them talk, cry, get angry and just be quiet. Whatever they need at the moment. But one thing I won’t let them do is forget how important she was and how she’ll always be part of them.

What a busy week. Today is my reward. I’m still in my jammies and it’s almost time for bed again. I think I deserve it and a trip away in a couple weeks to visit a friend.

Korey turned seven yesterday and Justin is two weeks at five. I can remember being five and seven, so I’ve been thinking that from here on in my footprint on their lives is permanent.

In fact, I remember some pretty important moments from my early childhood. Many have stayed with me. Some for the better and some it’s taken me nearly 40 years to erase. I better choose my words carefully and make sure they understand how important their self-esteem is to creating a wonderful life for themselves.

When I was five my grandmother passed away and I saw my father cry for the first time. I remember him standing at the back door window, his face shielded from his daughters, but his shoulders told the tale. I didn’t see him cry again until he suffered a stroke when I was 20. I grew up with no appreciation for the fraility of the male heart.

When I was seven, there were two elementary schools in my area. Our house sat right on the cut-off line which meant I was separated from my street friends during my first year.  But, in grade one they sent me to the “cool” school.  After the first week, however, they moved me back. I was crushed. That day, the boy next door came over and we played crazy eights, crazy nines and crazy tens at my back door until our Dads came home for supper. I learned how important friendship is and how simply sharing yourself with someone can lighten their load. It made me compassionate.

That year I had my favourite teacher. She taught me how delicious reading is. More pivotal, I learned that good things do follow bad.  

I’m also reminded how important my back door was.