So sleepy

My schedule has been really screwy lately. I go to bed around midnight and wake up at 6:30 to take care of the kids and drive them to school. I get home a bit after 8:00 and I’m exhausted. That’s unusual for me in the morning. I tend to crash around 4:00 p.m.

I’ve been so tired after morning carpool that I can’t concentrate, so I head back to bed – but I’ve been waking up well into the double digits in number of sleep hours.

Is it this cold (now in its final, sickly stages)? That I’m only sporadically drinking coffee? I’m not sure.

With all those sleep hours and tending to the kids while Elvi’s out of town, I haven’t had much time for writing. I have had time to mull over the disappointment of losing so early in the novice playoffs. I’m taking it harder than any of the kids and it bothers me that I can’t pin our second loss on anything other than the kids’ lack of motivation.

Bonus hockey hullabaloo:

I was talking with some other NDG coaches about the strengths and weaknesses of teams in our league and I mentioned that one defenceman on one of the NDG teams was the heart of his team – remove him and that team is ordinary and in trouble. The wife of a coach on that team – whose kid is a pretty good hockey player, I admit, but who is not crucial – went off on me. She was calling me a sore loser, essentially, which is completely wrong. Her husband tried to defend me, but this woman just wouldn’t shut up. I even started agreeing with her, but she kept at it. I’m not proud, but the only way for me to stop the verbal assault was to put my hands over my ears like a three-year-old.

Anyway, the kid I had been praising is missing. Let’s see how the team does this weekend without him.

The daily show

6:30: Wake up; make lunches for Children Two and Three; put dogs in yard and make sure they don’t run away; feed and water dogs; clean up dishes from bedroom, living room, and dining room that the wife and her moving party left before they departed at the crack of dawn.

7:30: Leave with kids for school; ask kids if they have their lunches and get firm affirmatives.

7:45: Drop kids off at school; silently grumble that the wife left me a van with an empty gas tank.

8:05: Make it home; discover Child Two’s lunch box in the middle of the floor.

8:15: Heat up some leftover coffee and two pancakes left over from the weekend; read the paper; finish reading some online threads I started last night.

9:15: Start this diary; wonder why I’m so exhausted; remember that I only fell asleep around 3:30 because of this cold and a nice, crackly coating of insomnia; wonder whether to take a nap or bring Child Two’s snacks to her (it’s a hot-lunch day at school so she won’t starve, she’ll just miss out on a granola bar and an apple, pretty much).

9:20: Offer to take a novice hockey player to our game this evening; remember that part of Child Two’s lunch is “Mishlo’ach Manot“, a Purim tradition of gifts of food and she’d be disappointed to not take part; put pants back on, get in car, and drive the lunch box to the school.

9:35: Start filling the car with gas at 115.4 cents per liter; stop filling when I notice that the price has dropped to 114.4 cents down the street; drop off lunch box.

10:00: Get back home; start grading assignments.

10:45: Wonder if drawing cartoons of drunks on my students’ report is appropriate; decide it’s too late to worry about that.

11:30: Watch trailer for “Jewno” and marvel that J.K. Simmons willingly took part in a spoof of his own movie.

11:45: Learn that the Montrealer who died in a Florida car accident caused by a car that drove the wrong way on a highway was the father of one of Child One’s classmates.

11:54: A machine from Primus calls about an urgent matter concerning our account.

12:05: Eyes glaze over while assessing a less than stellar Web page assignment. Time for a Coke Zero. Why do they even still make Diet Coke?

12:06: And maybe it’s time for some leftover pizza, too.

12:40: Back to work, starting with two pieces of e-mail from Alex.

1:35: Alex needs some research done immediately, so I set aside my grading to work on that.

2:11: Done. I have an hour left before I need to leave to pick up the two children from school. Child Three has a playoff game at 6:00, halfway across town. Their school only finishes at 4:00. Given traffic, I will pick the kids up and head east directly. We’ll stop for fast food on the way.

2:40: Hockey equipment gathered and lines set; dogs put out in yard and collected. That leaves just enough time for a shower. My work is done here, for now.

7:41: Return home, vanquished. The Jaguars beat us 3-1. Each team had about four shots. Child Three played hard as a forward. There are more practices, but that’s it for games. Surprisingly, no dog poop in evidence.

7:42: Notice that the door to the chinchilla cage is open. Either it fell open or, as I suspect happened, our dog guest clawed or bit it open. I have no idea where the two chinchillas are. They may be inside the guest dog, although I see no loose fur or blood.

8:11: Locate August, the wilier of the two escapees; put the guest dog in the basement.

8:19: Catch August because he ran into the downstairs bathroom. I hypnotize him with a green towel and snatch him from the lip of he bathtub. In the past, he’s taken hours to recapture.

8:25: We catch the second fugitive, June. She ran into the vestibule where Child Two cornered her.

8:29: Get Child Three some ice cream. It’s his bedtime, but I had no chance to get this for him earlier. We picked up MacDonald’s for supper on the way to the game.

8:33: Learn that Arthur C. Clarke has died.

8:45: Put Child Three to bed; help Child Two analyze a story in for Hebrew class.

8:59: Put Child Two to bed; watch rest of Habs game.

10:17: Write a response to a fellow writer who’s suffering a crisis of confidence.

11:24: Done kicking that writer’s ass – and I think, my own – it’s time for bed. Oh, goodie! I might get seven hours of sleep out of this.

The playoff train will be delayed

Our Novice B team lost three games all year, once to the Rosemount Bombardiers, 2-1, and twice to our fellow NDGians on the Cougars.

Well, the Bombardiers took it to us Sunday. Child Three was in net and he made his stop. And another on a shot that had been whistled offside. He didn’t stop seven others and we lost 7-3 in a game we otherwise dominated. Two of our goals came in the last five minutes as the team finally decided to take to heart the advice I gave them before the game. I kept notes through the season so I knew that this goalie was amazing. He could cover the ice post to post and he got down quickly. I told my boys to shoot high. I’m guessing that three of our 30 or so shots were high. 7-3.

We are now in the losers’ bracket and one loss from elimination. We hope to eliminate the other NDG team, the Jaguars, tomorrow. If we keep wining, we’ll wind up with three more games to play than we would have had we won straight through.

The wife and Child One will be spending the next week in PEI helping some friends move. I have the moving friends’ dog, a voracious, oversized black Lab (I think he has some Great Dane or something in him) who only runs when he sees “another dog or a person or something interesting.” We no longer have a fence around our yard. (It is completely covered in snow. Didn’t I mention that? Pay attention.) Letting the dog(s) out in back to run and play and poop doesn’t seem to be an option unless I want to go looking for them afterward – although, it depends who takes the lead here. Crash trots to the front yard and rests on the snowbank until someone opens the front door.

I’ll stop bitching now before I get myself in trouble.

Bonus fanboy:

B. Glen.