Spaghetti Dinner

  It's March Break - and for most mothers that means scurrying about to find child care options. Of course it's expected that the little darlings will return to their own homes and beds at night. But for our family it's a little different. This time around I have one dog, two cats, three classroom fish boarding with us, my four nieces and they're all my responsibility for the next five days.

 This March Break started two days too soon. We had a snow day, which meant keeping the kids home from school just when I was thinking I could get a few little extra errands in and maybe sneak in a little me time before the week started for real. Oh well, my kids are older and pretty independent - so it wasn't the hardship it was when they were little and easily bored and needing supervision. So I rose slowly and re planned my day with a few less chores. perhaps I'd treat us to pizza tonight - my husband is out on Thursdays so I like to make the evening a family one for me and the kids. We could get out those scouting and guiding books and perhaps pick out a badge or two to work on next week. And I could insist on getting the fish tank ready in preparation for the visiting classroom fish that were due home tomorrow.
  Tea in hand, I mused with myself and occasionally with my two computer addicted kids, what the week would be like. We could get in a little exercise - a preparation for our upcoming trip to Europe where we would be doing a lot of walking. Even if the weather was horrid ( and here in the southern Ontario that is a real possibility) we had the Wii. So I pictured the three of us taking turns doing our Wii fit programs and sometimes outside dragging the dog for a walk. Then there were those badges - an hour or so each day, around the kitchen table working on  my 12 yr old son's scout car for the upcoming races or  a paper mache mask with my 9 yr old daughter's theatre badge in guides - Perhaps a little music in the background - or some cookies in the oven.  Not too strenuous a program, certainly not one which deprived them of free time - but one designed to keep the computer gaming time down. Hopefully I could keep it reigned in to a few hours each evening instead of all day sessions.
  So when the phone rang I was in a pleasant state of imagined organization; a week of happy well rested diversity wherein I the perfect mother would have provided a happy holiday for my loving family.... and then I heard my sister-in-law say "Nan's dead."

The rest of that day was spent making phone calls, receiving phone calls - and realizing that my happy plans for the next 10 days had just been kicked out the window. First of all I should tell you who Nan is. She's the last living grandparent on my husband's side. A lovely lady - who had eleven children and a very hard life. My husband is the oldest child of her oldest child ( his mother) and there are aunts and uncles younger than he and I in the family. He has one brother who lives in the same town we do and I get along well with his wife and their four girls. It's been very helpful having family.
  I am an only child and have no experience with siblings, so my husband's clan often intrigue me. Last year when both my parents ( who divorced 30 years earlier) were ill, I found myself travelling a lot between them to help. My father was diagnosed with cancer and opted for surgery but did not properly recover and after a month died. My mother who suffers from osteoarthritis and Alzheimer's fell, then fell again and soon was unable to do much for herself and needed care. So the year previously, I had relied heavily upon my sister-in-law to take in my children at moment's notice and to help. In the midst of that craziness, my husband's very favorite grandmother had died ( his father's mother) and because of my parents, he opted to stay home and help with my mother and our children instead of travelling home to Newfoundland for the funeral. So this time around it was clear to me - it was his turn to go home. So far this made sense.
  But there was more. My sister-in-law was now facing the same situation as I had last year. Her father was battling cancer and he wasn't winning. I had been urging her to go home to see him before things progressed to death and so when her husband also decided he was flying home for the funeral she decided to go as well. Then she could see her dad and give her mum a small break. Then it became clear that with travelling time included the three other adults would be gone for five days and I would be alone with all the kids.
  Here's the breakdown - Arthur my son, who is 12 years old and has autism and ADHD; Nichelle my eldest niece - also 12 years old, also has autism ( Aspberger's), Miriam , my daughter, 9 years old,  Maryanne, the next niece who is 6 and very tiny, and then the twins Audrey and Shirley, my last two nieces, both three and potty training.

So by Friday evening when most families were relaxing and looking forward to a quiet night I was frantically moving through my house preparing for 4 young house guests and my husband was still at work trying to get ahead of the job he'd be missing the following week. That's when the migraine hit. A migraine that wouldn't let up. I was still harbouring a nasty cough rooted deep in my chest and between the sinuses and hacking I was ingesting cold meds every four hours so in an effort to not overdose I was sparing with the painkillers. It didn't work. The migraine took hold full bore leaving me with my head covered in writhing pain and the house still a tip.

Saturday: Day One of Camp Aunt. The other adults don't leave until later in the day - so my husband undertook the shopping - the migraine is still going full steam and I haven't yet been able to get in touch with any of the people my sister-in-law told me would help. I put in a call to a teenager I know for extra babysitting help.  By four oclock we are ready. I have planned to put the twins in my son's room which meant we spent the morning clearing out all the precious intricate cars and paraphernalia and putting up a barrier to the loft. Then I moved the bed and blew up an air mattress and hoped the remaining stuff was safe from inquisitive three year olds.  My daughter also tidied - she would be hosting the older girls in her room. All that was left was  prepping dinner. Spaghetti seemed easy. I swallowed more meds (the migraine now seemed a permanent part of my health along with the stupid cold/cough) and started making a sauce.
  Then they arrived. The bags moved in - all 15 of them - between toys and bedding and snacks and extra mittens - they overflowed my entrance spilling up the stairs towards the bedrooms. We got them sorted and then hugged the outgoing adults and waved on their way. I'm alone now with six children looking at me expectantly. Spaghetti dinner!  I organized the older ones - the 12year olds on serving food and milk, the nine year old on setting forks and spoons, the 6 year old getting hands washed and everyone to the table ( she's a terrific shepherd).
"Aunt - is there any cheese? "
" Why yes" and I reached into the fridge for the fresh Parmesan. It was a tad clumped so I gave it a shake and the lid flew - Instantly I have Parmesan cheese all over me, the counter, the floor, the stove and one of the plates of spaghetti. The cats and dog move in swiftly.
" Maybe I won't have cheese after all" says the twelve year old. and she takes a fresh plate into the dining room whereupon she trips and spills the hot dinner over the head of her six year old sister. The piercing screams penetrates through my head like a hot poker.
  Still covered in cheese myself, I rescue my niece, stripping her clothes and applying cold compresses to the bright red spots on her shoulder and leg where the dinner fell. She's okay, and returns to the table in her jammies to have a fresh dinner. I make some kind of joke about her and I being the dinner and she shakes her curls to show me the sauce still stuck in her hair. I'll give her a bath later.
So it's less than 20 minutes into this adventure and there's food on the floor which the animals have given up trying to eat, one child injured and filthy and I have small grains of Parmesan encrusted in my eyebrows. This bodes well......