It’s officially a condition.  What, you ask?  My desire to reach across the table and commit acts of violence upon whoever is making sounds when they eat. And I’m not even talking about the excessively noisy or unmannerly diner.  I’m talking about ANY eating sounds, including, but not limited to, slurping, chewing, licking, smacking, crunching and breathing. In fact, I swear I can hear saliva glands beginning to churn out mouth juices and it makes me want to run from the room screaming. 

I realize that everyone who reads this is now thinking that I’m a complete and utter lunatic.  My husband is included in this category. But I have had this “issue” my whole life. I can remember suppressing these awful urges to shriek obscenities at my very sweet, elderly grandfather as a child because, when eating soup, he would dip the spoon in his soup, bring it to his mouth and suck up the liquid in a looooong, sloooow, sluuuuuuuuurrrrrpp!

I have spent many meal times telling myself to just ignore it, that normal people aren’t bothered by such subtle sounds and I need to stop being so effing uptight.  But I simply could NOT ignore the sounds and it doesn’t matter if it is my husband and children whom I love and have close relationships with or a perfect stranger to whom I should be compelled to be polite.  When they start the disgusting business of eating I envision tearing out their hair or standing up and screaming “FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING HOLY WILL YOU STOP EATING LIKE A MOTHER-FARKING ANIMAL!!!!”  Crazy, I know. 

But today all my self-recrimination came to a screeching halt when I read a newspaper article that mentioned an audiologist named Marsha Johnson who works at the Oregon Tinnitus and Hyperacusis Treatment Centre has diagnosed a condition called Soft Sound Sensitivity Syndrome (also known as 4S)!  The article quoted her as saying that mouth noises “can send these patients through the roof, out the door, and into their rooms and into seclusion” and that “victims may cry, yell, strike out, retreat, scream, withdraw, (and) abuse others…in an effort to remove the negative stimulation”.  I know it’s kind of crazy that knowing this makes me feel better. But it does!  I’ve never gone ballistic and actually freaked out on someone.  (Well, except maybe my husband when he walks up behind me eating something and I scream “Stop EATING in my freaking EAR!!!!!”)  But it’s nice to know there are other people that feel this way, and suffer from it in a more debilitating way.  I mean, it’s not nice that they suffer in a debilitating way. But it’s nice that I no longer have to wonder if I’m just taking the phrase “anal retentive” to a whole new level of psychotic behaviour. 

So next time we’re eating dinner together, if you notice my head spinning around on my neck, try and ignore it.  If you can.  It’s not that I have anything against you and it’s probably not even that you are eating your meal in an impolite manner.   Really.  It’s not you. It’s me.  I’m just a little sensitive (times four).  I’ll try and bring my paper bag to breathe into so that we don’t have an “episode”. 

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I took a road trip yesterday to a small town about an hour from London to see a friend that I haven’t seen in years. It was an absolutely beautiful drive.  I really enjoyed myself and actually slowed down to take in the tree-lined highways through sleepy towns, rolling hills and corn fields.  Apparently corn is a very lucrative crop as some of the farmhouses I passed could only be called estates, they were that big. 

As I was driving I listened to this country ballad by Tim McGraw on the radio. I’ve heard it several times before and really enjoyed the melody but the words struck me this time and I was all weepy by the end.

If you’re reading this
My mommas sitting there
Looks like I only got a one-way ticket over here
I sure wish I could give you one more kiss
And war was just a game we played when we were kids
Well I’m laying down my gun
I’m hanging up my boots
I’m up here with God
And we’re BOTH watching over you

So lay me down
In that open field out on the edge of town
And know my soul
Is where my momma always prayed that it would go
And if you’re reading this
If you’re reading this
I’m already home

I suppose part of the reason the words struck me is I can imagine how paralyzed I would feel if I lost my husband.  I think it is tragic that the war in Afghanistan has cost so many families their fathers or mothers.  I think it is even more horrifying how many innocent lives have been taken as a result of the war.  I suppose that is a fact that even the most staunch supporters of the war can agree on.

Lately I have been noticing a lot of “Support Our Troops” bumper stickers on cars in London and a lot of yellow ribbons tied on trees and fenceposts and even signs by shops.  I don’t know if this is limited to this part of the country or if it’s happening all over Canada.  It seems to be a growing phenomenon and I have been thinking about what it means to support the troops.  Does it mean I support the war?  Does it mean I don’t want troops to die?  As if there are Canadians who DO want the troops to die??? If I support the troops does it mean that I endorse George Bush and all his lunacy poor decisions?  The whole thing has caused me some internal conflict, partly due to my upbringing.  I was raised as a Mennonite Christian.  Mennonites are a part of the Anabaptist movement and one of many different Christian denominations.  The title isn’t important.  But one of the most important tenets of Mennonite theology is the concept of pacifism and non-violent protest (and, I would add, a cultural tendency to avoid conflict of all kinds…or maybe it was just my family.  Are there any Menno readers out there who can give me a yay or nay or an “Ach du lieber!”?) .  I was raised to embrace pacifism and to be proud of my family’s history of opposition to war.  Mennonites throughout history have defined themselves as a peaceful people. 

During WWII my grandfather, then a young man, wanted to avoid being drafted. But because his family could never afford the $25 fee to become Canadian citizens, he was not eligible for “conscientious objector” status. He decided to go to Flin Flon, Manitoba to work in the mines which were considered an essential industry and mine workers were, therefore, free from being drafted.  My grandmother was very proud that she and my grandfather had made this choice to avoid being part of the war.  But I can’t help but think that if no one had taken a stand by going to war there would have been so many more people murdered and victimized.  There are times when we have to do something to help our fellow humans who are in need. I simply don’t know enough about history to have any clue whether there were any other alternatives but I suspect that when there are such big problems involving corrupt governments that there may not be an easier and less offensive way to stop genocide.

This, of course, leads to debates about “just wars” and whether such a thing exists and how one can know if said war is just and whether it is right to be involved in the military if the war is just and whether you can be a soldier and discriminate between which actions you wish to be involved in. It’s such a complex problem and I don’t know how to settle the issue in my mind.  Especially being married to a man whose family has a history of being involved in the military! 

So support our troops?  I certainly support them as fellow human beings. I support their right to be safe and come home alive and to fight injustice and ease suffering and to do the work of peacekeepers throughout the world.  Can I support the current war?  Or any war for that matter?  Can I be ok with the murder of people, even those who have committed atrocities?  Is it at all possible to reconcile the deaths of countless innocents, even in a “just” war?  I don’t know yet.  It’s something I’m still working through.  I don’t know if I can abandon my pacifist roots. I find something beautiful about the Mennonite practice of keeping peace.  And not in the generic “we all wish for world peace” sense.  I mean who doesn’t want world peace?  But Mennonites seem to really be working towards this in tangible ways. They are behind so many humanitarian projects.  Not because they want to bring “The. Gospel.” to Heathen peoples but because they see their fellow humans hungry and suffering from diseases and without the basic necessities.  So they come to aid them.  It is altruism at it’s finest.  And somewhere, deep down, I feel that this compassion has a better chance of solving most of the world’s problems than violence.

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Can I just say that I have had it up to here with the retarded formatting issues with Live Journal?  I swear it all looks pretty when I write it and insert the pics.  I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.  Even when I try to edit it after it comes out all goofy I can’t seem to fix the problems.  I hope to switch out of LJ soon. I know, I know, I’ve said that before. But I’m still planning to switch. Just waiting for hubs to help me set it up.  Until then, I apologize that my posts with pictures look like they’ve been put through a blender before showing up here.  That is all.

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Well it has been a busy couple of weeks here in Poisonville.  My parents have been visiting and that has been a fabulous distraction for myself and the kids.  Of course my kids think that the grandparents visit for the exclusive purpose of entertaining them and I can’t say that I do much to discourage this sort of thinking.  Because it is soooo nice to have some backup around here!  I kind of feel sorry for my parents, having chosen to spend their holiday time with us and then ending up with two little monsters waking them up early every morning and wanting to play with them constantly.  A little sorry, but not enough to wish they hadn’t come!

This morning both my parents and the Man left me on my own.  My parents went home and hubby went off to Toronto for the week to do all kinds of networking and getting to know about “the Industry” (capital “i”), meeting people who are working in various different companies that might be potential employers after this year.  I was dreading this week a bit because it’s hard to go from having 2 or 3 extra adults around helping with the kids to being on my own day and night.  But I think it will be all right.  It’s nice to have a bit of quiet around here – at least when they are sleeping.   I started taking a vitamin B complex and Omega 3 capsules last week. Both are supposed to help increase your energy and I do feel that they are helping me.  I have had problems with energy and it would be nice if this is all it took to give me a little bit of a energy boost.   The only slightly disturbing side effect is that excess vitamin B is sloughed off in the urine and since I started taking it my pee has been such a neon yellow that one would think I’d been drinking radioactive smoothies for breakfast everyday.  Too much information, dear internet?  I thought so. 

Oh yes, and I also got a new bike.  I haven’t owned a bike in years.  They have improved a lot in the past several years, the gear shifts easier and the bike seat actually goes up as high as I need it to and adjusting the seat height is no longer at the same level as having your fingernails pulled out one by one.  As the old saying implies, I was still able to ride.  I even went for a short ride in the evening with my honey.  What I was not counting on was the serious pain I would have in my rear the next day!  I was begging for mercy every time I sat down.  It’s now 3 days later and I’m still feeling a bit sore.  Again with the too much information? Glad you stopped by, aren’t you?

Now that I know how painfully out of shape I am I…well, I don’t really know what. I’d like to say I’ll be jumping on that bike regularly. I hope that will be the case.  I plan to buy a trainer for riding indoors when I can.  I’ll never be as fit as the hubby but I’ll see what I can do to at least be able to ride a couple kilometers without having to stay standing for a week afterwards.

Yesterday we were at the beach again and I actually managed to come back without a sunburn for the first time!  It was my birthday so let’s just call it my birthday gift from the universe.  Here’s Avery enjoying the water and looking delicious in her new dress, an early birthday present from friends in Saskatoon.

The kids played in the sand and water all day and, of course, had a ball.  Someone had kindly left a giant pile of sand right next to where we set up and it was the scene of much excitement.  What could be more fun than a huge pile of dirt, right?  Actually, I’m not even joking. At one point all four adults were all working on building a sandcastle and ferociously defending it against the kids who wanted to destroy it. I’m sure onlookers were impressed by our stalwart neglect of our offspring dedication to architectural greatness.  I have a picture of it but if you think I’ll be posting it here you’re sorely mistaken! 

It was only a matter of seconds after we completed the masterpiece remembered we were supposed to be watching the kids that Kieran plowed through the castle like King Kong.   So we made him pull the cooler up and down the beach 57 times as punishment.  All in all, a good day.

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Heard at my dinner table the other night when Avery was asked to say grace:

“Dear God, Thank you for this food.  Thank you for my Oma and Opa coming to visit.  And thank you for all my friends who make such nice love.  Grlgjkblkjblkjlbkcperpierrelwkmnxkuy…. (something unintelligible)… Dear Avery (as though addressing a letter)….Amen.”

Friends who make nice love? Honestly, where does she come up with this stuff?  We are so getting called by social services one day.  Eeek.

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Today there was an article in the London Free Press which says that pitchers which filter water (ie. Brita) do not actually remove as much lead from water as previously believed.  Read:  We have been drinking poisonous water for the past almost three months.  I spent some time freaking out. Then I fire-bombed my landlord’s house because I hold him responsible for this situation.  Then I calmed down and checked with the city about getting our water retested. 

It turns out they let the water run for five minutes before sampling it so it wouldn’t have mattered what time of day they tested the water or if we’d just filled a pool or not turned on the water for a week. We’d still have basically the same reading.  The gentleman from the city who phoned me was exceedingly nice which was great because I was liable to start weeping hysterically into the phone if he had been at all impatient.  But it turns out he used to live just a few houses away from us and knew a lot about our area.  Apparently the city replaced the lead pipes which were on public property in 1989.  So my landlord’s claim that the pipes on our property are copper is wrong because there is no possible reason for our lead content to be so high except big, nasty, lead pipes seeping poisony poison into my drinking water.  Ugh. 

So after that conversation I sent an email to the landlord, which may have come off ever so slightly as a totally-paranoid-mother, saying that this high lead level is scaring the shit out of me and the fact that it could have been causing irreversible damage to my children in the past three months while I was relying on the effing Brita filter is making me want to do more than joke about bombs and such.  There is an old filter on our sink. The kind that has an extra small faucet off to the side which is attached to a filter under the sink.  The filter hadn’t been replaced in five years and the system is seven years old. Our landlords had never used it.  I looked into buying a new one and, of course, it turns out it is an American system and stores here no longer carry the filter refills.  We were given a different brand of filter which may or may not fit into the system.  If it doesn’t fit we’ll be buying a filter system that screws onto the tap which is supposed to filter out all lead.  Either way I’ll be sending the bill to my landlord.

The city-man also told me that the Brita wasn’t completely useless. It does filter out about half the lead.  So hopefully my kids will only have half the total possible kidney damage. Sob.  No, really, the situation isn’t as bad as that. Because with the Brita our lead content would be down significantly.  However, I will still be switching to a different filtration system.  I feel better about the whole thing now but this morning I really was very upset.  I was afraid that choosing this home to live in was not only going to result in a year of not liking my house and dealing with the small annoyances of the property, but that my family’s health had been jeopardized.  I know it probably seems a bit over the top.  But lead poisoning is scary stuff!  We’ll see if my landlord continues to claim that it’s not his problem.  As long as he pays for the filtration system I’m not going to make too big a deal of it. But I’m definitely going to suggest that he consider letting future tenants know about this little deficit if he doesn’t want to end up in court.

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I believe…

…that it is important to be polite.

…that sometimes it is more important to stand up for yourself.

…in the divine

…that we can know very little about the nature of the divine.

…in coffee breaks.

…that life is sacred.

…in loyalty, honesty and compassion.

…that kids should always be told the truth. At least as much of it as is appropriate for their age.

…that good friends are absolutely priceless.

…in giving people the benefit of the doubt.

…that it is never wrong to ask questions.

…that judging others is wrong except in a court of law and that it is one of the most damaging ways to wound a person.

…that “Ferris Buehler’s Day Off” sucked.

…in the healing power of forgiveness, especially forgiving yourself.

…that most of the time a coincidence is just a coincidence.

…that sometimes it isn’t.

…in the importance of family meals together which fosters strong family connection.

…that you can’t necessarily be anything you want to be. 

…that there is no such thing as a person who is your “soulmate” (as in someone who you are destined to be with) but that you choose who you love.  I know. I’m desperately unromantic.  It doesn’t mean I don’t love my husband who is absolutely my mate and the dearest friend of my soul and whom I am completely in love with.

…that people choose whether or not their love will live or die.

…that Diet Coke is the best drink. Ever.

…that tragedy provides opportunity for growth and gives us the chance to learn things about ourselves that we might never learn otherwise.

…in the value of family history and stories that are passed down from generation to generation.

…that books are a crucial part of a person’s development.

…in hope.

…that doubt is NOT dangerous, but healthy.

…that I will make a lot of mistakes in raising my children.

…that they can still grow up to be well adjusted and fantastic people who will succeed in life.

…that mosquitoes really do like me better than most other people.

Ok so that’s enough. I know I’ll think of more but you’ve got to cut it off somewhere, right? Right?  So what do you believe?

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I just spent like an hour trying to format that last post and all the pictures because it looked so nice before I posted it but then the formatting went to hell as soon as I hit “post to journal”.  And I tried and tried to figure out how to make it work but it  appears my small brain cannot comprehend such large tasks.  So I’m leaving it the way it is as a monument to my incapability.  Enjoy.

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