one day where we will live
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Message to the “Haters”
Lately, I am getting bombarded with hate comments. At first, I allowed them. Then I altered my blog so that comments could not be anonymous. Now, I have adjusted it further so all comments come to my email first for my approval.
It is sad it has to be like this. It is sad that someone (or more than one someone) feel such a need to hurl hate and anger at me. What is it inside of them that causes this need? Jealousy? Self-loathing? Self-esteem issues?
I certainly did not harm anyone. My viewpoints and perceptions do not interfere with anyone else’s life. Yet somehow people seem to think they have a reason to hammer me with hate.
Not only do the comments keep coming (I had a pile in my email inbox this morning that I rolled my eyes at) but they also sent me a link to a yahoo group that I had joined a year ago to try and find some clarity about my ex and his issues. Which means now they are hunting me online. Creepy.
My message to you haters is this:
Why?
Is this simply for sport? Are you merely trying to upset me and bother me? Because you are wasting your time…this will be the only blog I write that will address this situation. After that, it is a dead issue to me.
Since you obviously know me (and I do know who some of the haters are…Hi ladies!), why not simply send me an email and let me know WHY you feel such hatred towards me? Or when you make your next foolish, illiterate comment, at least have it be filled with what your point is.
You cannot hurt me this way. I just wish I knew why you would even want to. If you feel I have wronged you somehow, at least give me a chance to address the issue and try and deal with it.
If you simply do not like me and hate me for whatever your own personal reasons may be, I think you have made yourselves very clear. If not, own it. Are you in fear of me? Or just so ashamed of yourselves that you never want to reveal your identity for fear of dying of embarrassment in my eyes? Does my shame of you matter that much?
Please, get mature, get real and stand behind your words or just stop.
Don’t you have anything better to do?
I sure do.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Things to be grateful to the EX for - Part 1
I am having a very hard time these days feeling anything but anger and animosity towards my ex-husband. He continues to be verbally abusive to me whenever I speak to him on the phone so I have decided now to cut all contact.
I think I feel so angry because of his lack of love or devotion to the children. I don’t care if he loves me or wants to be with me but why can’t he love his children? And maybe he does, in his own way. But to me, his own way simply isn’t good enough.
Now that he is staying with his family, he is being poisoned by them and inspired by them to take harmful action against me. It is unpleasant but I am happy he is warm, cared for and with people who want to help him. At least they do for now. But I can't allow their help for him cause pain to me so I have to remove myself from contact with him.
I don’t want to be mired down by these thoughts and feelings. I want to be free from him, free from anger and free from the burden he places on me emotionally.
So today I am going to try an exercise in feeling gratitude towards him instead of anger.
I cannot show him much gratitude at this point but I will start where I can truly feel grateful towards him, and that of course is for the blessings of my children.
The children are a given though. I need to dig deeper and find another aspect of something from our relationship I can feel real and positive gratitude for.
Before we had children, we did have some great times together. And some of those great times involved a total of EIGHT epic road trips by car across Canada, in the short space of seven years. That’s a lot of miles! But it was the chance to experience as much of Canada as possible, fully immersing myself in this land of my birth. And it also made me realize that although there are many things about Canada I appreciate, admire and love, it still does not truly feel like “home”. It just is not where I wish to take root in this glorious world. I will reside here for long periods for many reasons, but I don’t think it is where I will ever feel settled in my heart. If my “dream lover” is a hardcore Canadian though, I am sure we can make some happy arrangement!
So I will pay homage to those eight glorious road trips and send out my feelings of gratitude towards my ex for those great road trips, and that is the best I can do. For now.
1.Spring 1998:
Toronto-Moncton-B.C.:
Shortly after we met in Toronto, I convinced him to leave the city and return with me to B.C. We got a small car, loaded it with our possessions and a pregnant pit bull we were fostering, and first drove down to the east coast to see my friends and family, and then turned around and made our way all the way west to B.C. My best memory of that trip? Seeing the Toronto boy discover the wildlife in the Rockies when he got up close and personal with an elk in Jasper!
2. November 1998:
B.C. to Parry Sound, Ontario:
After being married in Toronto that Sept, job opportunities took us to a spot I randomly picked off the map that looked cool…Parry Sound. So back across Canada to Ontario we go! This time we had found a small old Datsun pick up truck with a canopy on the back for the dogs. I read novels to my ex all the way across and it was exciting heading to the unknown and all the possibilities it held. The thing that stands out most to me was applying a bungy cord on the gear shift whenever I was told it was time to “shift”!! Oh and no heat…brrrr.
3. January 1999:
Ontario to B.C.:
Not a good time to drive across Canada!! The jobs did not work out in Parry Sound so we stayed with my in-laws in Kitchener and Toronto for a bit…which ended badly! My eyes were being opened to the type of people his family are. We struggled to make a go of it…I even landed a high paying job with now defunct Canadian Airlines, but it was not to be. We loaded the little pick up and headed west to BC again. It was very cold (still no heat!), the bungy was still in use and the snowy roads frightened the hell out of me. We broke down a few times but the best break down happened in the heart of the Rockies, somewhere on a snowy, empty stretch of road between Jasper and Tete Jaune Cache. I got out of the truck and all around me were mountains and snow and a complete silence. I will never forget the awe and wonder I felt in that snowy silence surrounded by giants.
That drive culminated with a crash into a snow bank at a gas station 100km before we reached home, sending the rolled up carpet on the roof down the windshield to become deeply embedded in the snow! Woo!
4. May 1999:
B.C. to Halifax:
in a 1970-something Datsun 510. This began the start of a few years of my ex collecting old Datsun 510s. The car was rough but the biggest challenge on that drive was hoping our pregnant dog didn’t go into labour before we reached Halifax!! We made her a special place every night in whatever motel we were in but she held out until we reached Halifax. More novels were read on that drive. And it was unbelievably cheap on gas! I think only $300 total to cross the country in that 510!
5. Summer 2000:
B.C. to Port Hope, Ontario:
We had flown back to B.C. from Halifax in late 1999 and this time I had faced some pretty serious family problems in B.C. and wanted to get away as fast as possible. We chose Port Hope because I had a friend there. We now had 3 dogs in tow and drove a little Ford Escort which held out nicely all the way there. We knew the route so well now, we actually had favourite motel stops and knew the cheapest ones! Hanging out in Banff with my half-brother was a fun highlight.
6. November 2000:
Port Hope to B.C.:
Once again, things did not go as I would have liked. The friend who I once had been very close with, completely let me down and started showing me her true colours, which made it hard to stay. I also had conflict at my work and my husband just could not find decent work. He also was heavily into drugs there from the people he met. So I wanted out. We originally bought an old truck but the engine blew just before we were to leave. Luckily we still had the little Ford Escort and amazingly, it made it all the way back to B.C. That drive was scary with some bad road conditions and evil snow and ice. I hung in there until we got to Alberta and in Edmonton we hit some ice and almost hit someone else, so I decided to bus it back and let my ex drive the rest of the way on his own with the dogs. When it comes to cars and bad weather/roads, I am a total coward.
7 & 8. Summer 2003:
B.C. to P.E.I. to B.C.:
Our final road trip across Canada. Also to be known as, “there and back again”.
I was pregnant with our first child and I had a vision of living in a quaint spot near family and friends. I did not want to return to Moncton, my hometown, so instead I decided upon P.E.I. I have fond memories of that island and so we decided to go for it. This time crossing Canada would not involve the same old route, oh no. I wanted to see even more because I knew it would be the last. I would never take a small child, strapped in a car seat, on a drive like that, in any of our less than decent vehicles. On this trip we drove a small station wagon, and had my niece with us until Alberta. We saw Drumheller with her (perhaps seeing all the dinosaurs while pregnant with my son is what sparked him to become a dinosaur fanatic!) and then left her with her family and we continued onwards, and the route plan was to use as many back roads in Canada as possible. I chose secondary roads that interconnected all over every province. We went far north into Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba, seeing places we never had been before. We crossed Manitoulin Island in Ontario and made a crisscross route all over Ontario, arriving into Quebec at a northern entry point and looped high over the northern roads of remote Quebec. It was amazing to me, but highly annoying to me ex. It took twice as long but I loved every moment.
Things did not work out in P.E.I. despite a very good effort and we returned to B.C., again taking as many back roads and long detours around all the provinces as possible. I feel it was a great finale to our years of crossing Canada.
I feel only warmth and happiness towards my ex whenever I think about those trips. We may have had many bad moments, and things did not always go as planned, but the memories I hold onto are good ones.
I send him gratitude for those travels and I hope one day he remembers them as fondly as I do.
I think I feel so angry because of his lack of love or devotion to the children. I don’t care if he loves me or wants to be with me but why can’t he love his children? And maybe he does, in his own way. But to me, his own way simply isn’t good enough.
Now that he is staying with his family, he is being poisoned by them and inspired by them to take harmful action against me. It is unpleasant but I am happy he is warm, cared for and with people who want to help him. At least they do for now. But I can't allow their help for him cause pain to me so I have to remove myself from contact with him.
I don’t want to be mired down by these thoughts and feelings. I want to be free from him, free from anger and free from the burden he places on me emotionally.
So today I am going to try an exercise in feeling gratitude towards him instead of anger.
I cannot show him much gratitude at this point but I will start where I can truly feel grateful towards him, and that of course is for the blessings of my children.
The children are a given though. I need to dig deeper and find another aspect of something from our relationship I can feel real and positive gratitude for.
Before we had children, we did have some great times together. And some of those great times involved a total of EIGHT epic road trips by car across Canada, in the short space of seven years. That’s a lot of miles! But it was the chance to experience as much of Canada as possible, fully immersing myself in this land of my birth. And it also made me realize that although there are many things about Canada I appreciate, admire and love, it still does not truly feel like “home”. It just is not where I wish to take root in this glorious world. I will reside here for long periods for many reasons, but I don’t think it is where I will ever feel settled in my heart. If my “dream lover” is a hardcore Canadian though, I am sure we can make some happy arrangement!
So I will pay homage to those eight glorious road trips and send out my feelings of gratitude towards my ex for those great road trips, and that is the best I can do. For now.
1.Spring 1998:
Toronto-Moncton-B.C.:
Shortly after we met in Toronto, I convinced him to leave the city and return with me to B.C. We got a small car, loaded it with our possessions and a pregnant pit bull we were fostering, and first drove down to the east coast to see my friends and family, and then turned around and made our way all the way west to B.C. My best memory of that trip? Seeing the Toronto boy discover the wildlife in the Rockies when he got up close and personal with an elk in Jasper!
2. November 1998:
B.C. to Parry Sound, Ontario:
After being married in Toronto that Sept, job opportunities took us to a spot I randomly picked off the map that looked cool…Parry Sound. So back across Canada to Ontario we go! This time we had found a small old Datsun pick up truck with a canopy on the back for the dogs. I read novels to my ex all the way across and it was exciting heading to the unknown and all the possibilities it held. The thing that stands out most to me was applying a bungy cord on the gear shift whenever I was told it was time to “shift”!! Oh and no heat…brrrr.
3. January 1999:
Ontario to B.C.:
Not a good time to drive across Canada!! The jobs did not work out in Parry Sound so we stayed with my in-laws in Kitchener and Toronto for a bit…which ended badly! My eyes were being opened to the type of people his family are. We struggled to make a go of it…I even landed a high paying job with now defunct Canadian Airlines, but it was not to be. We loaded the little pick up and headed west to BC again. It was very cold (still no heat!), the bungy was still in use and the snowy roads frightened the hell out of me. We broke down a few times but the best break down happened in the heart of the Rockies, somewhere on a snowy, empty stretch of road between Jasper and Tete Jaune Cache. I got out of the truck and all around me were mountains and snow and a complete silence. I will never forget the awe and wonder I felt in that snowy silence surrounded by giants.
That drive culminated with a crash into a snow bank at a gas station 100km before we reached home, sending the rolled up carpet on the roof down the windshield to become deeply embedded in the snow! Woo!
4. May 1999:
B.C. to Halifax:
in a 1970-something Datsun 510. This began the start of a few years of my ex collecting old Datsun 510s. The car was rough but the biggest challenge on that drive was hoping our pregnant dog didn’t go into labour before we reached Halifax!! We made her a special place every night in whatever motel we were in but she held out until we reached Halifax. More novels were read on that drive. And it was unbelievably cheap on gas! I think only $300 total to cross the country in that 510!
5. Summer 2000:
B.C. to Port Hope, Ontario:
We had flown back to B.C. from Halifax in late 1999 and this time I had faced some pretty serious family problems in B.C. and wanted to get away as fast as possible. We chose Port Hope because I had a friend there. We now had 3 dogs in tow and drove a little Ford Escort which held out nicely all the way there. We knew the route so well now, we actually had favourite motel stops and knew the cheapest ones! Hanging out in Banff with my half-brother was a fun highlight.
6. November 2000:
Port Hope to B.C.:
Once again, things did not go as I would have liked. The friend who I once had been very close with, completely let me down and started showing me her true colours, which made it hard to stay. I also had conflict at my work and my husband just could not find decent work. He also was heavily into drugs there from the people he met. So I wanted out. We originally bought an old truck but the engine blew just before we were to leave. Luckily we still had the little Ford Escort and amazingly, it made it all the way back to B.C. That drive was scary with some bad road conditions and evil snow and ice. I hung in there until we got to Alberta and in Edmonton we hit some ice and almost hit someone else, so I decided to bus it back and let my ex drive the rest of the way on his own with the dogs. When it comes to cars and bad weather/roads, I am a total coward.
7 & 8. Summer 2003:
B.C. to P.E.I. to B.C.:
Our final road trip across Canada. Also to be known as, “there and back again”.
I was pregnant with our first child and I had a vision of living in a quaint spot near family and friends. I did not want to return to Moncton, my hometown, so instead I decided upon P.E.I. I have fond memories of that island and so we decided to go for it. This time crossing Canada would not involve the same old route, oh no. I wanted to see even more because I knew it would be the last. I would never take a small child, strapped in a car seat, on a drive like that, in any of our less than decent vehicles. On this trip we drove a small station wagon, and had my niece with us until Alberta. We saw Drumheller with her (perhaps seeing all the dinosaurs while pregnant with my son is what sparked him to become a dinosaur fanatic!) and then left her with her family and we continued onwards, and the route plan was to use as many back roads in Canada as possible. I chose secondary roads that interconnected all over every province. We went far north into Alberta, Saskatchewan and Manitoba, seeing places we never had been before. We crossed Manitoulin Island in Ontario and made a crisscross route all over Ontario, arriving into Quebec at a northern entry point and looped high over the northern roads of remote Quebec. It was amazing to me, but highly annoying to me ex. It took twice as long but I loved every moment.
Things did not work out in P.E.I. despite a very good effort and we returned to B.C., again taking as many back roads and long detours around all the provinces as possible. I feel it was a great finale to our years of crossing Canada.
I feel only warmth and happiness towards my ex whenever I think about those trips. We may have had many bad moments, and things did not always go as planned, but the memories I hold onto are good ones.
I send him gratitude for those travels and I hope one day he remembers them as fondly as I do.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Maybe not so firm now...?
I am still struggling with my so-called "firm decision". After calling the school and advising them that we would be returning, it wasn't long before I received an anonymous email.
It said:
"don't come back to our school. we don't want you here."
How nice. It shows how quickly news spreads in my community. I alerted the school board and they advised I go to the police. Considering one of the "hater" parents has a cop for a husband, I think I will pass. I'm just not that interested in a battle. If we decide to go, I will just ignore those types of sentiments.
IF we decide to go, that is.
After posting my blog about our new "firm" decision, I soon also discovered that an anonymous commenter was actually one of the parents. And probably has been all along with all of the negative, hateful comments left here for me.
What kind of people are these that they would feel the need to search out my blog and be "watching" me? How shallow their lives must be and how interesting mine must be to them? If there wasn't so much hate involved, I would be flattered.
I should be used to controversy by now. After all, it is what I do best! Well, next to writing at least...or so I hope!
So now I struggle with a difficult decision, yet again.
Clearly, we would be anything but welcomed at the school, based on the email and the comments...I love having friends in technical places out there that can help trace "anonymous" commenters to their source. I had a hunch but once it was confirmed, it definitely brought many things to light.
I also have a babysitter who helps me occasionally, and she attends the school. Her mother knows many of these "haters" from the school, and has heard all about me and the gossip is still rampant.
At least now I have adjusted my blog a bit and all comments must have an official sign-in name...if this continues though, I will simply move my blog elsewhere.
I welcome comments, even negative ones. I welcome opinions. But I do not welcome cruelty hurled at me for sport. I won't tolerate that at all.
So as I try and come to a resolution about what to do now...stick to my firm decision or come up with something else...I think the time has come to share the whole story, to set the record straight about what exactly happened here.
I get many private messages asking me to share my story and I appreciate the love and concern from those of you who like my blog and want to keep reading.
For those who don't....please go and get a life and stay the hell out of mine.
Watch this space...because a really good bedtime story shall be posted shortly.
It said:
"don't come back to our school. we don't want you here."
How nice. It shows how quickly news spreads in my community. I alerted the school board and they advised I go to the police. Considering one of the "hater" parents has a cop for a husband, I think I will pass. I'm just not that interested in a battle. If we decide to go, I will just ignore those types of sentiments.
IF we decide to go, that is.
After posting my blog about our new "firm" decision, I soon also discovered that an anonymous commenter was actually one of the parents. And probably has been all along with all of the negative, hateful comments left here for me.
What kind of people are these that they would feel the need to search out my blog and be "watching" me? How shallow their lives must be and how interesting mine must be to them? If there wasn't so much hate involved, I would be flattered.
I should be used to controversy by now. After all, it is what I do best! Well, next to writing at least...or so I hope!
So now I struggle with a difficult decision, yet again.
Clearly, we would be anything but welcomed at the school, based on the email and the comments...I love having friends in technical places out there that can help trace "anonymous" commenters to their source. I had a hunch but once it was confirmed, it definitely brought many things to light.
I also have a babysitter who helps me occasionally, and she attends the school. Her mother knows many of these "haters" from the school, and has heard all about me and the gossip is still rampant.
At least now I have adjusted my blog a bit and all comments must have an official sign-in name...if this continues though, I will simply move my blog elsewhere.
I welcome comments, even negative ones. I welcome opinions. But I do not welcome cruelty hurled at me for sport. I won't tolerate that at all.
So as I try and come to a resolution about what to do now...stick to my firm decision or come up with something else...I think the time has come to share the whole story, to set the record straight about what exactly happened here.
I get many private messages asking me to share my story and I appreciate the love and concern from those of you who like my blog and want to keep reading.
For those who don't....please go and get a life and stay the hell out of mine.
Watch this space...because a really good bedtime story shall be posted shortly.
Friday, November 19, 2010
A Firm Decision
This is ridiculous. I woke up this morning and thought FUCK those people who made our life hell at the local school. FUCK THEM. We have a RIGHT to go there as our local school and my son has a RIGHT to enjoy a happy school-life, free from strife and bullshit.
Who cares if it is a hornet’s nest of bad feeling towards me? That is THEIR problem, not mine!!! I don’t need to talk to anyone there if they have such bad feelings towards me. I don’t need to be involved with any of these parents or their bullshit outlooks and attitudes. My son is probably far ahead of any of the children there artistically and he needs to be somewhere every day that will stimulate his growth.
I want to take him to an alternative art-type school more than anything in the world. But it would be a far bus ride every day. If it was just the two of us, it would be fine. But with the other children in tow, it definitely makes it more difficult.
I have my elderly mum coming down on me constantly about this. She practically DEMANDS I take him back to the local school and berates me for thinking I could take the children on the bus daily to the artistic school. She says it would be too much for me, for them and for her. And she has been freaking out about it in her elderly tantrum-prone way.
At first I thought I would just ignore her protests. I want what is best for him and I really did not think returning him to the local school was a good idea. And I still don’t. But I do have to consider my mum because in a way, she is like a fourth child, especially at this stage in her life, and if she gets upset too much, it could be disastrous.
Giving in to my mum’s demands and tantrums may not be right, but before anyone passes judgement on my decision, how many of you out there are in MY position? How many of you are as devoted to your own 87 year old deteriorating parent as I am? I would love to hear from someone like me out there, a single parent with three small children and a fourth, disguised as an old person who used to resemble my mum.
So this decision is not made because I think the local public school is the best option. This decision is made to keep my mum happy and to work within the boundaries of our current restricted life.
I will do everything in my power to keep my son happy in the school and I will march in there proud and strong. I won’t even acknowledge any of the previous “haters” who tried to harm us, they are mere strangers to me now. And I made sure to ask the school administration that my son be placed with the teacher HE loves and away from the children of the parents who caused us the most pain.
I believe my son is more adaptable than I am and the strife we faced there was more upsetting to me, than to him.
So fuck it. We are going back. Immediately. Not waiting until after Christimas, no way. We are going now. And everyone better get out of the way.
Metal Queen is coming to kick some proverbial ass.
INVICTUS - a favourite poem of my mum’s by William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Who cares if it is a hornet’s nest of bad feeling towards me? That is THEIR problem, not mine!!! I don’t need to talk to anyone there if they have such bad feelings towards me. I don’t need to be involved with any of these parents or their bullshit outlooks and attitudes. My son is probably far ahead of any of the children there artistically and he needs to be somewhere every day that will stimulate his growth.
I want to take him to an alternative art-type school more than anything in the world. But it would be a far bus ride every day. If it was just the two of us, it would be fine. But with the other children in tow, it definitely makes it more difficult.
I have my elderly mum coming down on me constantly about this. She practically DEMANDS I take him back to the local school and berates me for thinking I could take the children on the bus daily to the artistic school. She says it would be too much for me, for them and for her. And she has been freaking out about it in her elderly tantrum-prone way.
At first I thought I would just ignore her protests. I want what is best for him and I really did not think returning him to the local school was a good idea. And I still don’t. But I do have to consider my mum because in a way, she is like a fourth child, especially at this stage in her life, and if she gets upset too much, it could be disastrous.
Giving in to my mum’s demands and tantrums may not be right, but before anyone passes judgement on my decision, how many of you out there are in MY position? How many of you are as devoted to your own 87 year old deteriorating parent as I am? I would love to hear from someone like me out there, a single parent with three small children and a fourth, disguised as an old person who used to resemble my mum.
So this decision is not made because I think the local public school is the best option. This decision is made to keep my mum happy and to work within the boundaries of our current restricted life.
I will do everything in my power to keep my son happy in the school and I will march in there proud and strong. I won’t even acknowledge any of the previous “haters” who tried to harm us, they are mere strangers to me now. And I made sure to ask the school administration that my son be placed with the teacher HE loves and away from the children of the parents who caused us the most pain.
I believe my son is more adaptable than I am and the strife we faced there was more upsetting to me, than to him.
So fuck it. We are going back. Immediately. Not waiting until after Christimas, no way. We are going now. And everyone better get out of the way.
Metal Queen is coming to kick some proverbial ass.
INVICTUS - a favourite poem of my mum’s by William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Dream Lover
DREAMLOVER - Mariah Carey
I need a lover to give me
The kind of love
That will last always
I need somebody uplifting
To take me away
I want a lover who knows me
Who understands how I feel inside
Someone to comfort and hold me
Through the long lonely nights
'Till the dawn
Why don't you take me away
[Chorus:]
Dreamlover come rescue me
Take me up take me down
Take me anywhere you want to baby now
I need you so desperately
Won't you please come around
'Cause I wanna share forever with you baby
I don't want another pretender
To disillusion me one more time
Whispering words of forever
Playing with my mind
I need someone to hold on to
The kind of love that won't fly away
I just want someone to belong to
Everyday
Of my life
Always
So come and take me away
Sigh. A dream lover. That is all I have these days…just my dreams! But Miss Mariah must have known what she was doing when she wrote that song because she did eventually attract her own dream lover and seems very happy and very content these days! Lucky!
I think it would be really, really difficult in my life as it stands right now to not only meet someone to form a relationship with, but also to maintain it. However, nothing is impossible and if I had my way (and I often do get MY WAY so this has good odds…) I would like it to go something like this:
First, a connection made deeply through universal signs and timing. I have never yet connected with any stranger I met online like so many people I know have. I have tried online dating sites and been approached by many, but they always fell flat for me and never went beyond emails. I am a deeply visual person so for me to fall in love I need to SEE the person and observe them first in detail. I could easily fall in love with a TV news anchor probably! That is definitely more likely than an abstract person in cyberspace.
Next, once the connection has been made and the spark doth groweth, well then HE would need to come to ME. Probably after extensive phone conversations…this makes me think of how Shania met Mutt. He called her up wanting to produce her music and they sparked. Then they spent long hours talking on the phone until they met and realized the power of their connection. Beautiful. But I think that would work for me too. Although I don’t have any music to promote that would cause a famous producer to call me up but hey, I have other talents ongoing right now and I do not think it is impossible for my dream lover to find the reason to connect to me. Or for me to connect to him.
Then, once loads of personal contact by phone was firmly established, then he would have to come to me. He would understand my home is my sanctuary, my children are my life, my mum is my responsibility. He would understand that and he would love me for it. And so he would come to me.
And once we had some in-person contact ensuring we were right for each other and had found “the one” in each other, then we could include the children. And to clarify myself here, I don’t mean they would EVER be not included in our lives, I simply mean when I would first meet my dream lover, it would be outside of my home. It would be one of the occasions I would find a sitter. But he would have to be patient with me only being able to visit him outside of the home at restaurants, movies, HOTELS (heh heh), etc, until we had a life plan in place and from then on he would share my home and be a full part of our lives in every way.
However, I would hope my dream lover had an amazing career, in the arts somehow would be perfect. A career that had him travelling or in high demand, or even maintaining homes/apartments in different cities where his work was established. I would be so encouraging and happy for his success and content in the knowledge that whenever he was not working, or involved in a personal passion (maybe golf? Dirt bikes? Whatever it may be…it is irrelevant that I love his personal passions or he mine so long as we are considerate to each other with respect to it), he was home with us and only wanted to be with us.
He would marry me on a Mediterranean beach with just the children and a few close friends and family in attendance.
I believe the right dream lover would count the days until he could see me again, between work demands. I would be so happy with a free, artistic spirit who was as passionate about his work as he was about being with me and found a way to harmonize the two elements to complete his life.
He would leave all work behind though if we had a child, for at least the first year. And I wouldn’t even have to ask him to do that for me. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
One day he would shelve the career for awhile to embark on some lengthy world travels with me and the children, hopefully doing humanitarian work en route, helping to teach and guide the children about worldwide compassion.
He would come from a loving family who would love and embrace us as their own. He would have his mum on the same pedestal that mine is on and he would then pass this quality onto the children.
He would be instrumental in raising the children and loving them as his own, without question.
He would encourage my dreams and life goals and would always be striving to put a smile on my face and bask in my happiness just as I would for him.
And we would grow old together, content together and never lose an ounce of the passion or connection that brought us together in the first place.
Ok phone…ring already!!! Why isn’t he calling yet??
I need a lover to give me
The kind of love
That will last always
I need somebody uplifting
To take me away
I want a lover who knows me
Who understands how I feel inside
Someone to comfort and hold me
Through the long lonely nights
'Till the dawn
Why don't you take me away
[Chorus:]
Dreamlover come rescue me
Take me up take me down
Take me anywhere you want to baby now
I need you so desperately
Won't you please come around
'Cause I wanna share forever with you baby
I don't want another pretender
To disillusion me one more time
Whispering words of forever
Playing with my mind
I need someone to hold on to
The kind of love that won't fly away
I just want someone to belong to
Everyday
Of my life
Always
So come and take me away
Sigh. A dream lover. That is all I have these days…just my dreams! But Miss Mariah must have known what she was doing when she wrote that song because she did eventually attract her own dream lover and seems very happy and very content these days! Lucky!
I think it would be really, really difficult in my life as it stands right now to not only meet someone to form a relationship with, but also to maintain it. However, nothing is impossible and if I had my way (and I often do get MY WAY so this has good odds…) I would like it to go something like this:
First, a connection made deeply through universal signs and timing. I have never yet connected with any stranger I met online like so many people I know have. I have tried online dating sites and been approached by many, but they always fell flat for me and never went beyond emails. I am a deeply visual person so for me to fall in love I need to SEE the person and observe them first in detail. I could easily fall in love with a TV news anchor probably! That is definitely more likely than an abstract person in cyberspace.
Next, once the connection has been made and the spark doth groweth, well then HE would need to come to ME. Probably after extensive phone conversations…this makes me think of how Shania met Mutt. He called her up wanting to produce her music and they sparked. Then they spent long hours talking on the phone until they met and realized the power of their connection. Beautiful. But I think that would work for me too. Although I don’t have any music to promote that would cause a famous producer to call me up but hey, I have other talents ongoing right now and I do not think it is impossible for my dream lover to find the reason to connect to me. Or for me to connect to him.
Then, once loads of personal contact by phone was firmly established, then he would have to come to me. He would understand my home is my sanctuary, my children are my life, my mum is my responsibility. He would understand that and he would love me for it. And so he would come to me.
And once we had some in-person contact ensuring we were right for each other and had found “the one” in each other, then we could include the children. And to clarify myself here, I don’t mean they would EVER be not included in our lives, I simply mean when I would first meet my dream lover, it would be outside of my home. It would be one of the occasions I would find a sitter. But he would have to be patient with me only being able to visit him outside of the home at restaurants, movies, HOTELS (heh heh), etc, until we had a life plan in place and from then on he would share my home and be a full part of our lives in every way.
However, I would hope my dream lover had an amazing career, in the arts somehow would be perfect. A career that had him travelling or in high demand, or even maintaining homes/apartments in different cities where his work was established. I would be so encouraging and happy for his success and content in the knowledge that whenever he was not working, or involved in a personal passion (maybe golf? Dirt bikes? Whatever it may be…it is irrelevant that I love his personal passions or he mine so long as we are considerate to each other with respect to it), he was home with us and only wanted to be with us.
He would marry me on a Mediterranean beach with just the children and a few close friends and family in attendance.
I believe the right dream lover would count the days until he could see me again, between work demands. I would be so happy with a free, artistic spirit who was as passionate about his work as he was about being with me and found a way to harmonize the two elements to complete his life.
He would leave all work behind though if we had a child, for at least the first year. And I wouldn’t even have to ask him to do that for me. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
One day he would shelve the career for awhile to embark on some lengthy world travels with me and the children, hopefully doing humanitarian work en route, helping to teach and guide the children about worldwide compassion.
He would come from a loving family who would love and embrace us as their own. He would have his mum on the same pedestal that mine is on and he would then pass this quality onto the children.
He would be instrumental in raising the children and loving them as his own, without question.
He would encourage my dreams and life goals and would always be striving to put a smile on my face and bask in my happiness just as I would for him.
And we would grow old together, content together and never lose an ounce of the passion or connection that brought us together in the first place.
Ok phone…ring already!!! Why isn’t he calling yet??
Monday, November 15, 2010
Welfare
Welfare.
What an ugly, nasty little word.
I am sure it wasn't always that way. Before the introduction of the social welfare benefits system in Canada in the late 1960's which gained momentum by the 70's, the word welfare simply meant “well being“. Not any longer. Now it means dirty, low class, poor, gross, underpriviledged, druggies, smokers...these are all words that people have chosen with respect to calling someone a "welfare case".
I never thought I would ever be referred to in that way. Never. Because I never associated it with finances. I also most certainly do not see myself in that light at all either! I was brought up to believe that when people receive government hand-outs to live their lives, it was their free RIGHT to have these hand-outs by making a life in this country of Canada and to use any hand-outs such as EI, welfare, disability, was absolutely fine to do when needed. The money received may be known as welfare, but once the financial term became associated with socially disgraceful behaviours and lifestyles, it was almost impossible to mean anything else but a derogatory statement when the word welfare was used to describe anyone's financial situation. It has become synonymous with a lifestyle choice. However, I was taught that it is not about the finances at all. Even working people can behave in a "welfare" manner, and to behave in a "welfare" manner or to exhibit "welfare" behaviours within our society, is somehow "ok" by the masses, so long as you are in the working system and your children are in daycares and your tax dollars are being circulated properly.
Case in point: a relative of mine constantly screamed abusively at her child. She would punish her with hot sauce on the tongue and other aggressive punishments. Naturally, we clashed hard when I opposed her cruelty. My point here is that she was a working mother. Her child grew up in daycares while she worked hard, was in the single-parent working world system of car payments, house payments, etc. Yet she behaved deplorably towards her child. But most people within the working world environment did not think she was a bad mother at all. Most people applauded her choice to work, let the child be raised by daycares and so what if she is tough on her child? That was the general consensus.
But if you placed that same mother in a low rental with a welfare cheque each month and she treated her child in the same way...letting daycares raise the child so she can be lazy and claim some disability (which is a common thread/statistic in homes on welfare, sad but true, some relevant reasons, some not), her cruelty would be called out, child services stepping in and most people from society looking down at her.
So why is it this way? Have so many people abused the social welfare system that the connotations placed on the word welfare now, have made it impossible for anyone to be viewed as anything else other than exactly what the word brings to mind?
Was it from abuse of the system or the fact that the kids of the 1970s and 80's are now running this country and they all have a serious lack of compassion from conservative, narrow-minded judgements hammered into them from the MC himself and his crazy, excessive spending, harem-pant wearing ways?
Let’s look at the word NEED for a moment since I did bold type the words when needed. Who defines “need” when it comes to welfare?
For my own personal situation, I am allowed to have welfare, and my situation is based on fully-abiding, government regulations. So why am I judged and looked down upon for MY choice to accept government hand-outs during MY time of need?
Why do so many others feel they can define my NEED?
Even some of my closest friends look at me in a derogatory way and just cannot see why I should use THEIR tax dollars to support my life.
I don’t see it that way at all. I don’t feel I am doing anything wrong at all and I have no lack of pride by accepting welfare. None at all.
I would have a serious lack of pride though if my children were overlooked in any way. My days are spent catering to my children, playing with them, baking with them, teaching them, exploring the world with them…is that not a good enough reason for other people’s tax dollars to support? Are the children not worth it? Does a mother not deserve a salary for raising good human beings?
Many people would say to me, “why should WE help you and your kids? Why should we be responsible for your mistake when you married and had kids with the wrong person? Too bad, so sad…you need to give those kids a backbone, tell them to toughen up and get to daycare while you get out there and work hard like the rest of functioning society does!” I had that exact statement thrown at me via email. So sweet, isn‘t it? People are just so kind. NOT.
People who have known me have also criticized me for being on welfare and not "knowing my place". Meaning, because I am on welfare, I am expected to live in squalor, buy only the basic necessities, never take the children on trips, never purchase anything that the working man would not purchase. Talk about a restricted, regimental outlook. Yet it is the majority feeling right now. Why?
Case in point: I was made to feel bad from a fellow parent when I took the children to a special show in Vancouver. This parent wondered why should we get to go to a special show when she can't afford to take her kids? Um...my answer to that? Well you have two car payments and a house payment, and I don't! Regardless, she still didn't think we should get to have any treats from HER tax dollars. And this feeling is out there in the masses...have had close friends also express similar sentiments towards me and my choices while on welfare. So petty. So small. So mean.
Why do those on welfare have to behave like they are on welfare? Is it a slap in the face to the working man? Wouldn’t the working man be pleased that people on welfare want more out of life than to be stuck on welfare? And if there is time and a procedure involved for getting off the welfare system, is it right to expect a life to be placed inside a stereotypical box just to make other working people feel better about themselves?
When I was a working person, I honestly would never have an unkind thought towards any single parent who was using her benefits to provide the best and fullest life possible for her children and elderly parent.
I did have unkind thoughts towards the system abusers though…the ones who truly scammed the system by pretending to be ill, or having numerous cheques going to numerous addresses. Stuff like that bothers me, sure. But for every real scammer out there, there are dozens of legitimate benefit needs being met.
It is not up to us to determine need and I believe the legitimate needs being met far outweigh the ones who truly scam the system.
Instead of having a problem with me or others like me, why not petition the government to employ more detectives who spend time and effort investigating any suspicious fraud welfare takers?
People are becoming more and more, just out for number one. And yes, we should think about our own the most. I certainly do. But our actions to help our own should not hurt others. And if I felt for a moment that by using the welfare system to allow me to parent my kids full time until they are all in school, if I felt for a second that my actions harmed someone else and their life, I would not accept it. But that is not the case because if it was, I would not be allowed to have it. It is that simple.
Some people suggest I am a scammer. That I scam the system and somehow am “scamming” my way through life even. And leeching off my mum.
I know how this perception of me came about. It is by my own doing, of course.
When I was younger, I always “scammed” my way backstage to rock concerts by means of “white lies” told to band management, etc, in order to get the coveted backstage passes without having to do anything sleazy. And because of this “scamming” method, it is a word now used in association with me. That could be why.
I also have always had a knack for knowing how to get what you want. Whether it be a trip to England, or finding finances where others may not have realized finances existed, or simply locating a person or place with my super sleuth skills (somehow this also gets shoved under the scamming category!)…if that meant beating down doors (or finding proverbial “secret” back doors!) or maneuvering people or situations to help best gain what I want, so long as it does not hurt anyone else, then what is the problem?
People somehow think my “methods” are underhanded and sneaky and will end up taking away from their own lives in some way. Honestly, that is what it comes down to. I think anyway.
I did not want to end up on welfare. Who does? And there are people in my own family who abuse the system badly, which probably also shines a bad light on me because I get lumped in with all the system abusers due to family ties.
But I do not abuse or scam the system. It is a means to an end. It serves a purpose while my children are small and I am struggling to settle into life as a single mum. I also have my own mum to think about. I make meals for her and run up and down the stairs seeing to any needs she has. How would that work if I was gone all day?
The haters would say she needs to be in a home. And they justify it by saying how they are sure she would be happier to be away from the chaos of little kids and around her own age group.
For anyone who knows my mum, nothing is further from the truth. She does not like other old people and she tried senior life in an apt once and hated it, she felt like a chicken in a coop. She is not a joiner and not into socializing so all we can do is shut out the naysayers and just get on with what we know to be right.
By accepting welfare as my financial support in life, I am not harming anyone else, and my children and mum reap the benefits of me and my time for them. One day the children won’t be small any longer. One day my mum will no longer be alive. And one day I will return to conventional work when and if I have to. Providing I haven’t come into my own yet as a writer and have made my OWN financial success.
When that happens, I will be writing big cheques to donate to any government assisted help that has been there for me and mine.
We all have our own moral compasses and I feel mine is pointing exactly where it should be. Directly within. :)
What an ugly, nasty little word.
I am sure it wasn't always that way. Before the introduction of the social welfare benefits system in Canada in the late 1960's which gained momentum by the 70's, the word welfare simply meant “well being“. Not any longer. Now it means dirty, low class, poor, gross, underpriviledged, druggies, smokers...these are all words that people have chosen with respect to calling someone a "welfare case".
I never thought I would ever be referred to in that way. Never. Because I never associated it with finances. I also most certainly do not see myself in that light at all either! I was brought up to believe that when people receive government hand-outs to live their lives, it was their free RIGHT to have these hand-outs by making a life in this country of Canada and to use any hand-outs such as EI, welfare, disability, was absolutely fine to do when needed. The money received may be known as welfare, but once the financial term became associated with socially disgraceful behaviours and lifestyles, it was almost impossible to mean anything else but a derogatory statement when the word welfare was used to describe anyone's financial situation. It has become synonymous with a lifestyle choice. However, I was taught that it is not about the finances at all. Even working people can behave in a "welfare" manner, and to behave in a "welfare" manner or to exhibit "welfare" behaviours within our society, is somehow "ok" by the masses, so long as you are in the working system and your children are in daycares and your tax dollars are being circulated properly.
Case in point: a relative of mine constantly screamed abusively at her child. She would punish her with hot sauce on the tongue and other aggressive punishments. Naturally, we clashed hard when I opposed her cruelty. My point here is that she was a working mother. Her child grew up in daycares while she worked hard, was in the single-parent working world system of car payments, house payments, etc. Yet she behaved deplorably towards her child. But most people within the working world environment did not think she was a bad mother at all. Most people applauded her choice to work, let the child be raised by daycares and so what if she is tough on her child? That was the general consensus.
But if you placed that same mother in a low rental with a welfare cheque each month and she treated her child in the same way...letting daycares raise the child so she can be lazy and claim some disability (which is a common thread/statistic in homes on welfare, sad but true, some relevant reasons, some not), her cruelty would be called out, child services stepping in and most people from society looking down at her.
So why is it this way? Have so many people abused the social welfare system that the connotations placed on the word welfare now, have made it impossible for anyone to be viewed as anything else other than exactly what the word brings to mind?
Was it from abuse of the system or the fact that the kids of the 1970s and 80's are now running this country and they all have a serious lack of compassion from conservative, narrow-minded judgements hammered into them from the MC himself and his crazy, excessive spending, harem-pant wearing ways?
Let’s look at the word NEED for a moment since I did bold type the words when needed. Who defines “need” when it comes to welfare?
For my own personal situation, I am allowed to have welfare, and my situation is based on fully-abiding, government regulations. So why am I judged and looked down upon for MY choice to accept government hand-outs during MY time of need?
Why do so many others feel they can define my NEED?
Even some of my closest friends look at me in a derogatory way and just cannot see why I should use THEIR tax dollars to support my life.
I don’t see it that way at all. I don’t feel I am doing anything wrong at all and I have no lack of pride by accepting welfare. None at all.
I would have a serious lack of pride though if my children were overlooked in any way. My days are spent catering to my children, playing with them, baking with them, teaching them, exploring the world with them…is that not a good enough reason for other people’s tax dollars to support? Are the children not worth it? Does a mother not deserve a salary for raising good human beings?
Many people would say to me, “why should WE help you and your kids? Why should we be responsible for your mistake when you married and had kids with the wrong person? Too bad, so sad…you need to give those kids a backbone, tell them to toughen up and get to daycare while you get out there and work hard like the rest of functioning society does!” I had that exact statement thrown at me via email. So sweet, isn‘t it? People are just so kind. NOT.
People who have known me have also criticized me for being on welfare and not "knowing my place". Meaning, because I am on welfare, I am expected to live in squalor, buy only the basic necessities, never take the children on trips, never purchase anything that the working man would not purchase. Talk about a restricted, regimental outlook. Yet it is the majority feeling right now. Why?
Case in point: I was made to feel bad from a fellow parent when I took the children to a special show in Vancouver. This parent wondered why should we get to go to a special show when she can't afford to take her kids? Um...my answer to that? Well you have two car payments and a house payment, and I don't! Regardless, she still didn't think we should get to have any treats from HER tax dollars. And this feeling is out there in the masses...have had close friends also express similar sentiments towards me and my choices while on welfare. So petty. So small. So mean.
Why do those on welfare have to behave like they are on welfare? Is it a slap in the face to the working man? Wouldn’t the working man be pleased that people on welfare want more out of life than to be stuck on welfare? And if there is time and a procedure involved for getting off the welfare system, is it right to expect a life to be placed inside a stereotypical box just to make other working people feel better about themselves?
When I was a working person, I honestly would never have an unkind thought towards any single parent who was using her benefits to provide the best and fullest life possible for her children and elderly parent.
I did have unkind thoughts towards the system abusers though…the ones who truly scammed the system by pretending to be ill, or having numerous cheques going to numerous addresses. Stuff like that bothers me, sure. But for every real scammer out there, there are dozens of legitimate benefit needs being met.
It is not up to us to determine need and I believe the legitimate needs being met far outweigh the ones who truly scam the system.
Instead of having a problem with me or others like me, why not petition the government to employ more detectives who spend time and effort investigating any suspicious fraud welfare takers?
People are becoming more and more, just out for number one. And yes, we should think about our own the most. I certainly do. But our actions to help our own should not hurt others. And if I felt for a moment that by using the welfare system to allow me to parent my kids full time until they are all in school, if I felt for a second that my actions harmed someone else and their life, I would not accept it. But that is not the case because if it was, I would not be allowed to have it. It is that simple.
Some people suggest I am a scammer. That I scam the system and somehow am “scamming” my way through life even. And leeching off my mum.
I know how this perception of me came about. It is by my own doing, of course.
When I was younger, I always “scammed” my way backstage to rock concerts by means of “white lies” told to band management, etc, in order to get the coveted backstage passes without having to do anything sleazy. And because of this “scamming” method, it is a word now used in association with me. That could be why.
I also have always had a knack for knowing how to get what you want. Whether it be a trip to England, or finding finances where others may not have realized finances existed, or simply locating a person or place with my super sleuth skills (somehow this also gets shoved under the scamming category!)…if that meant beating down doors (or finding proverbial “secret” back doors!) or maneuvering people or situations to help best gain what I want, so long as it does not hurt anyone else, then what is the problem?
People somehow think my “methods” are underhanded and sneaky and will end up taking away from their own lives in some way. Honestly, that is what it comes down to. I think anyway.
I did not want to end up on welfare. Who does? And there are people in my own family who abuse the system badly, which probably also shines a bad light on me because I get lumped in with all the system abusers due to family ties.
But I do not abuse or scam the system. It is a means to an end. It serves a purpose while my children are small and I am struggling to settle into life as a single mum. I also have my own mum to think about. I make meals for her and run up and down the stairs seeing to any needs she has. How would that work if I was gone all day?
The haters would say she needs to be in a home. And they justify it by saying how they are sure she would be happier to be away from the chaos of little kids and around her own age group.
For anyone who knows my mum, nothing is further from the truth. She does not like other old people and she tried senior life in an apt once and hated it, she felt like a chicken in a coop. She is not a joiner and not into socializing so all we can do is shut out the naysayers and just get on with what we know to be right.
By accepting welfare as my financial support in life, I am not harming anyone else, and my children and mum reap the benefits of me and my time for them. One day the children won’t be small any longer. One day my mum will no longer be alive. And one day I will return to conventional work when and if I have to. Providing I haven’t come into my own yet as a writer and have made my OWN financial success.
When that happens, I will be writing big cheques to donate to any government assisted help that has been there for me and mine.
We all have our own moral compasses and I feel mine is pointing exactly where it should be. Directly within. :)
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Crossroads
Crossroads. Whenever I hear that name I think of the movie. No, not the Britney Spears one. Go back. Further. This movie is the 1980's Crossroads where a young, hot Ralph Macchio played a blues guitarist on a journey. Due to axe-wizard/David Lee Roth discovery Steve Vai playing the devil's advocate in the movie, all the guitar heroes I hung out with, jammed with (or slept with!) on the Moncton music scene, made it almost a personal rite-of-passage to have seen this movie. Which is how I had the pleasure of getting to see that great, underrated film.
But the crossroads I stand at today is real and not a movie. Real life. Which is far more dramatic and has more devils and their advocates than any movie.
I have to make a decision about my children, for my children regarding their future with the local school.
A few months ago, I made a mistake at my son's school, the local school, a ten minute walk from home. I got too involved, I said too much, I revealed too much of myself to far too many too close to home. I have done this before. And I react the same way everytime. I coccoon. I rarely go out, I dream of the future and travelling, I isolate myself for a bit. During my coccoon process I like to think long and hard about what lessons I have learned to get to this place and how I can prevent it from happening again. Looking at past crossroads is a great help to remind me of which path to take and what happens when you don't choose wisely...
1.Redneck Hell - I got out but barely. That was a bad, bad place. I learned I have family I now know I never want to know beyond a friendly Xmas card, ever, ever again. I learned a valuable lesson from Redneck Hell but it was a roller coaster ride which ended with a crossroads. Which took us to...
2. England - I had the right vision but not enough of the means! To be fair, I was pregnant so my brain was not functioning to the best of my ability. But I did not arrange that properly for my 80+ year old mum and her needs and I will never make THAT mistake again. And I think I clearly have maintained her needs much, much better after that mistake for which I am proud of myself. Anyway, returning from England to Redneck Hell was insanely hard. That was walking right back into the hornets nest I had left behind and thankfully I was able to gather my wits about me and be strong enough to get us out of there as fast as possible!!
But that sure does tell me something. My son going back to the school I removed him from is a good idea in theory. But in reality, returning to a place of toxicity does not make good sense. It would be poor judgement and I need to not take that fork in my current personal crossroads.
In hindsight, I simply should have gone further afield and tried harder to find the right accommodation before giving into mum's fears and returning to Redneck Hell. That was the wrong choice. Steve Vai would have won that round!
It is so good to self-analyze and be sure of yourself and what your inner voice already is telling you. I think the key is to LISTEN to that inner voice a little more.
The next crossroads came after getting away as fast as possible from Redneck Hell (7 months pregnant, time running out!!) and arriving in..
3. Vancouver Island - it is so pretty there. The motorcycle mechanic job my ex husband started working at sounded promising. The house we found to rent was cute and had a granny cottage for my mum and she joined us not long after we arrived due to the continued strife she faces when she stays with my sister.
This is where my crossroads starts going a bit more personal and for now I will simply say the next series of moves/crossroads in life all had to do with a main member of our family, DADDY, and my lifelong battle with the mistress I cannot compete against no matter how many fancy organic products I use on my skin, no matter how much of a positive outlook I have and no matter how great a childhood I strive to give these children, I am simply no competition for his mistress of over 20years, Ms. Mary Jane. I totally know how Princess Diana must have felt over Camilla. :)
But now I face a new crossroads...one for my children this time because we are already in the AD zone (After Daddy).
So at the end of September this year, I removed my son from school here. As I said earlier I became too involved, revealed too much of myself and my personal politics, and just basically disturbed my personal chi too close to home. And it trickled down to my son and he was unable to settle in school. Or maybe his agitated feelings at the new school bounced onto me and caused my own friction-filled angst with all the parents, etc. For whatever reasons now, and following all that transpired during the end times for us and our association with our local school, I firmly believe that both myself and my son will remain unaccepted in that environment if we returned. I believe I could possibly push through the hostility though. If I conformed and got my son assessed (as so many wanted instead of seeing him for the bright, creative, imaginative spark he is!) and fell in line with the school politics and didn't say a peep or ruffle any feathers, then perhaps we could overcome all the damage done, and my son and his younger siblings could have a positive school life here. But what would that do to me? To my personal integrity and well-being? Is it possible for me to give my children a wonderful school experience elsewhere? Can I find my son the school niche that he has yet to find to fit into?
Homeschooling is not enough stimulation for him. But going back to our local school would be a decision of poor judgement unless I am prepared to conform and put my own feelings aside for potentially many, many years. Do I want to face criticism for every trip I take or every non status quo decision I make? Not really.
So this crossroads is clear to me.
Do not go near Steve Vai. Let him solo his heart out but do not go down the path that is paved with spandex. Look to the sun, the glittering gold shining brightly off the ocean's ripples...look to the warmth of a brighter tomorrow, a more challenging set of hurdles to bring the goals into focus. Because once the butterfly emerges from the coccoon, the brilliance and wonder of the difficult birth outshines all troubled tatters of the shell left behind.
But the crossroads I stand at today is real and not a movie. Real life. Which is far more dramatic and has more devils and their advocates than any movie.
I have to make a decision about my children, for my children regarding their future with the local school.
A few months ago, I made a mistake at my son's school, the local school, a ten minute walk from home. I got too involved, I said too much, I revealed too much of myself to far too many too close to home. I have done this before. And I react the same way everytime. I coccoon. I rarely go out, I dream of the future and travelling, I isolate myself for a bit. During my coccoon process I like to think long and hard about what lessons I have learned to get to this place and how I can prevent it from happening again. Looking at past crossroads is a great help to remind me of which path to take and what happens when you don't choose wisely...
1.Redneck Hell - I got out but barely. That was a bad, bad place. I learned I have family I now know I never want to know beyond a friendly Xmas card, ever, ever again. I learned a valuable lesson from Redneck Hell but it was a roller coaster ride which ended with a crossroads. Which took us to...
2. England - I had the right vision but not enough of the means! To be fair, I was pregnant so my brain was not functioning to the best of my ability. But I did not arrange that properly for my 80+ year old mum and her needs and I will never make THAT mistake again. And I think I clearly have maintained her needs much, much better after that mistake for which I am proud of myself. Anyway, returning from England to Redneck Hell was insanely hard. That was walking right back into the hornets nest I had left behind and thankfully I was able to gather my wits about me and be strong enough to get us out of there as fast as possible!!
But that sure does tell me something. My son going back to the school I removed him from is a good idea in theory. But in reality, returning to a place of toxicity does not make good sense. It would be poor judgement and I need to not take that fork in my current personal crossroads.
In hindsight, I simply should have gone further afield and tried harder to find the right accommodation before giving into mum's fears and returning to Redneck Hell. That was the wrong choice. Steve Vai would have won that round!
It is so good to self-analyze and be sure of yourself and what your inner voice already is telling you. I think the key is to LISTEN to that inner voice a little more.
The next crossroads came after getting away as fast as possible from Redneck Hell (7 months pregnant, time running out!!) and arriving in..
3. Vancouver Island - it is so pretty there. The motorcycle mechanic job my ex husband started working at sounded promising. The house we found to rent was cute and had a granny cottage for my mum and she joined us not long after we arrived due to the continued strife she faces when she stays with my sister.
This is where my crossroads starts going a bit more personal and for now I will simply say the next series of moves/crossroads in life all had to do with a main member of our family, DADDY, and my lifelong battle with the mistress I cannot compete against no matter how many fancy organic products I use on my skin, no matter how much of a positive outlook I have and no matter how great a childhood I strive to give these children, I am simply no competition for his mistress of over 20years, Ms. Mary Jane. I totally know how Princess Diana must have felt over Camilla. :)
But now I face a new crossroads...one for my children this time because we are already in the AD zone (After Daddy).
So at the end of September this year, I removed my son from school here. As I said earlier I became too involved, revealed too much of myself and my personal politics, and just basically disturbed my personal chi too close to home. And it trickled down to my son and he was unable to settle in school. Or maybe his agitated feelings at the new school bounced onto me and caused my own friction-filled angst with all the parents, etc. For whatever reasons now, and following all that transpired during the end times for us and our association with our local school, I firmly believe that both myself and my son will remain unaccepted in that environment if we returned. I believe I could possibly push through the hostility though. If I conformed and got my son assessed (as so many wanted instead of seeing him for the bright, creative, imaginative spark he is!) and fell in line with the school politics and didn't say a peep or ruffle any feathers, then perhaps we could overcome all the damage done, and my son and his younger siblings could have a positive school life here. But what would that do to me? To my personal integrity and well-being? Is it possible for me to give my children a wonderful school experience elsewhere? Can I find my son the school niche that he has yet to find to fit into?
Homeschooling is not enough stimulation for him. But going back to our local school would be a decision of poor judgement unless I am prepared to conform and put my own feelings aside for potentially many, many years. Do I want to face criticism for every trip I take or every non status quo decision I make? Not really.
So this crossroads is clear to me.
Do not go near Steve Vai. Let him solo his heart out but do not go down the path that is paved with spandex. Look to the sun, the glittering gold shining brightly off the ocean's ripples...look to the warmth of a brighter tomorrow, a more challenging set of hurdles to bring the goals into focus. Because once the butterfly emerges from the coccoon, the brilliance and wonder of the difficult birth outshines all troubled tatters of the shell left behind.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
I suck
I suck.
Ok, I don’t really think that way about myself. I have too much self-confidence to actually think I suck. But in the sense of accomplishing the work-thing with this travel job from home? Yeah, I honestly do suck at that!
I tried it and I could manage the training around the kids. It was never for too many hours at a time and I tried to arrange it for the early morning hours before the oldest two were awake at least.
Far too often though, the lack of professionalism from this travel company I had so graciously been given a job opportunity with, irked me a wee bit too much. They would tell me they would phone at 7am (my time) which was 10am for them…I even offered to be ready for 6am here as I knew they started their days in Toronto at 830am or 9am. I was ready. But they never seemed to be. There were many false starts, or late starts, and glossed over apologies from the woman training me or the computer tech. It has been a rare occasion for anything I have been doing with this company to be on time at all. And that throws my entire household off! Why is there no consideration given for that? Is my time as a housewife (ahem, "wife" to the children only right now!!) and mother of so little consequence to them? Why was I not paid for all my hours of “standing by” and waiting for them??
Originally I was not looking to go into travel sales. I wanted to handle customer complaints with my kick ass letter writing skills. I had even sent some samples of my work with letters handling complaints in customer service to see if they could put me in that type of position. I could easily work around the children by doing writing at my own pace and am sure I could handle dozens of complaint letters during the course of a shift. But unfortunately, this company only needed internet “sales” travel agents to be ready to answer the phone which rings non-stop on an regular, eight hour shift.
As much as I want to jump into the travel game again, and as much as I want to have access again to free or discounted travel, I feel it is not worth what it will take away from the children by means of my time and efforts within their lives each day.
Loads of parents put their children in daycare every day so they can work to put food on the table. Thankfully, I am not in that position. And from my earlier blogs on here, I have already been very clear on how I feel about parents who CHOOSE to work and put their kids into daycare. Regardless of putting food on the table, there are always other options to keep you nearer your children, and it comes down to choice and what you value the most in this world. Parents who choose to work generally won’t admit this though and instead play the “I have no choice” card.
I am all for parents not losing themselves and continuing their careers despite having children…but not until the child is old enough to have their own life within school or some other outside learning stimulus.
So as for me, well, I tried. I failed and sucked at the challenge but at least I tried. How else can you know if you suck at something if you don’t give it a try first?
Always try. Sucking is optional. :)
Ok, I don’t really think that way about myself. I have too much self-confidence to actually think I suck. But in the sense of accomplishing the work-thing with this travel job from home? Yeah, I honestly do suck at that!
I tried it and I could manage the training around the kids. It was never for too many hours at a time and I tried to arrange it for the early morning hours before the oldest two were awake at least.
Far too often though, the lack of professionalism from this travel company I had so graciously been given a job opportunity with, irked me a wee bit too much. They would tell me they would phone at 7am (my time) which was 10am for them…I even offered to be ready for 6am here as I knew they started their days in Toronto at 830am or 9am. I was ready. But they never seemed to be. There were many false starts, or late starts, and glossed over apologies from the woman training me or the computer tech. It has been a rare occasion for anything I have been doing with this company to be on time at all. And that throws my entire household off! Why is there no consideration given for that? Is my time as a housewife (ahem, "wife" to the children only right now!!) and mother of so little consequence to them? Why was I not paid for all my hours of “standing by” and waiting for them??
Originally I was not looking to go into travel sales. I wanted to handle customer complaints with my kick ass letter writing skills. I had even sent some samples of my work with letters handling complaints in customer service to see if they could put me in that type of position. I could easily work around the children by doing writing at my own pace and am sure I could handle dozens of complaint letters during the course of a shift. But unfortunately, this company only needed internet “sales” travel agents to be ready to answer the phone which rings non-stop on an regular, eight hour shift.
As much as I want to jump into the travel game again, and as much as I want to have access again to free or discounted travel, I feel it is not worth what it will take away from the children by means of my time and efforts within their lives each day.
Loads of parents put their children in daycare every day so they can work to put food on the table. Thankfully, I am not in that position. And from my earlier blogs on here, I have already been very clear on how I feel about parents who CHOOSE to work and put their kids into daycare. Regardless of putting food on the table, there are always other options to keep you nearer your children, and it comes down to choice and what you value the most in this world. Parents who choose to work generally won’t admit this though and instead play the “I have no choice” card.
I am all for parents not losing themselves and continuing their careers despite having children…but not until the child is old enough to have their own life within school or some other outside learning stimulus.
So as for me, well, I tried. I failed and sucked at the challenge but at least I tried. How else can you know if you suck at something if you don’t give it a try first?
Always try. Sucking is optional. :)
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Something He Said
We were standing on the deck in the night air. If I wanted to talk to him I would have to put up with being outside while he smoked a joint. I don't understand the control that drug has on him. The drug he won't even call a drug.
Marijuana. A plant that looks innocent enough on the surface. But this innocent plant has been groomed and manipulated to new and dizzying heights of tokers' perfectionism. It is the drug that increasing numbers of our modern society either uses or sees nothing wrong with anyone else using. It has become mainstream, accepted and people have no idea of the long-term damage it actually does. Or if they do, they are too high to care.
As he tries to inhale his head into a different dimension, I ventured to tell him something nice. Something to perhaps pull him out of that ganja cloud and back down to earth.
"You know, I really and truly appreciate all the help you are giving me while you are here. I have to always do everything myself, even the gross BOY jobs, and I hope you do know how much I appreciate it."
He sort of shrugged and laughed and said, "Well, guess now you can see how much work I did around here and how much easier I made your life, so maybe you should have appreciated me a bit more!"
I was kind of startled at his words. How could he say that? I always appreciated his help and always lavished him with praise our entire marriage. I decided to remind him of a key fact.
"Your help always came with a price though and it is not a price I could afford any longer...how good is help when it is given with such a large amount of verbal abuse?"
He rolled his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Whatever," was his only reply. That small, mean phrase that says so much but means so little. It is so dismissive and I feel when someone uses it, they are using it unkindly and it irks me time and again.
He refused to acknowledge the damage he has done to all of us and instead he chooses to sweep it under the rug and create his own reality, in which he is a victimized hero who simply could no longer stand to be married to me.
Is this what all abusers do? Is this a classic pattern they follow?
It sure seems to be with mine.
But he is no longer mine now. He has returned to where he came from when I met him, at long last. A full circle moment? Perhaps. He is 4000km away and he is someone else's problem now. His family are dealing with him now. At least until he verbally abuses them and finds himself alone on the streets again.
I don't want that to happen.
I want him to find a good job, and get off the marijuana, and live for his kids and his own well-being. As much as I want that to happen though, I can't manifest someone else's life for them. He has to choose the path he walks and we will always be here with kindness for him if he chooses a path of happiness and peace.
Otherwise, I can only try to do my best to raise our children to have enough intelligence to always choose their own paths of prosperity and goodness.
Because in the end, it is not about us. It is about the children. And it always will be. For me.
Marijuana. A plant that looks innocent enough on the surface. But this innocent plant has been groomed and manipulated to new and dizzying heights of tokers' perfectionism. It is the drug that increasing numbers of our modern society either uses or sees nothing wrong with anyone else using. It has become mainstream, accepted and people have no idea of the long-term damage it actually does. Or if they do, they are too high to care.
As he tries to inhale his head into a different dimension, I ventured to tell him something nice. Something to perhaps pull him out of that ganja cloud and back down to earth.
"You know, I really and truly appreciate all the help you are giving me while you are here. I have to always do everything myself, even the gross BOY jobs, and I hope you do know how much I appreciate it."
He sort of shrugged and laughed and said, "Well, guess now you can see how much work I did around here and how much easier I made your life, so maybe you should have appreciated me a bit more!"
I was kind of startled at his words. How could he say that? I always appreciated his help and always lavished him with praise our entire marriage. I decided to remind him of a key fact.
"Your help always came with a price though and it is not a price I could afford any longer...how good is help when it is given with such a large amount of verbal abuse?"
He rolled his eyes and inhaled deeply. "Whatever," was his only reply. That small, mean phrase that says so much but means so little. It is so dismissive and I feel when someone uses it, they are using it unkindly and it irks me time and again.
He refused to acknowledge the damage he has done to all of us and instead he chooses to sweep it under the rug and create his own reality, in which he is a victimized hero who simply could no longer stand to be married to me.
Is this what all abusers do? Is this a classic pattern they follow?
It sure seems to be with mine.
But he is no longer mine now. He has returned to where he came from when I met him, at long last. A full circle moment? Perhaps. He is 4000km away and he is someone else's problem now. His family are dealing with him now. At least until he verbally abuses them and finds himself alone on the streets again.
I don't want that to happen.
I want him to find a good job, and get off the marijuana, and live for his kids and his own well-being. As much as I want that to happen though, I can't manifest someone else's life for them. He has to choose the path he walks and we will always be here with kindness for him if he chooses a path of happiness and peace.
Otherwise, I can only try to do my best to raise our children to have enough intelligence to always choose their own paths of prosperity and goodness.
Because in the end, it is not about us. It is about the children. And it always will be. For me.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
VISION OUT OF REDNECK HELL
Seven years ago I was living in a very hostile environment. Family problems, marriage problems. I wanted to be near the sea...a beach. Those are massively important elements I need in my life. The need to be near a beach only became uber-strong after I lived far away from it, I think.
Anyway, back then I always would tell people when I was out having a nice walk in nature and "making the best" of what I had within my hostile environment, how it would be so great if, at the bottom of the road (we were in rural farmland), instead of the highway, if there was a beach, or even a small train that stopped once an hour (like in my favourite quintessential English villages!), going onwards to the next town for some better shopping. I would daydream about that all the time. I would gaze into the distance and practically “see” the sea, and “see” the train, during my daily 3km hike with my baby in the stroller, stereo filling the wilderness with the sounds of anything from Abba to Anthrax, all the way to the top of our rural, backwoods road.
This road wound up a small mountain and had some dodgy spots where a flood had washed it out years before and the residents of the road had raised the funds to have the gap bridged with gravel. The stroller hated that part. My thighs thanked me for it later.
It was peaceful in spots…peaceful enough to sing really loudly. My oldest child (he was a baby then) learned about every amazing piece of music that I love, that tells the story of my life through song…and some awesome Mummy “Metal Queen” wails! We had some great hikes and they were an integral part of us maintaining a positive outlook through the hostility veil.
So now fast forward my life to what we gained once we finally left that rural life-suck/pot-soaked/hostile redneck small B.C. town. Every place we have lived since then, seems to almost fit my “vision” of what I “saw” and yearned for during those daily hikes.
1. England 2006…we lived in a stone cottage for a short time in a rural, Cornish village, with the sea at the end of our lane. We had fabulous bus access, nearby train, amazing beaches a short bus ride away, hiking trails…it was close to my vision.
2. Vancouver Island…of the two spots we lived in, the first (2006-2008) had a beach at the bottom of the road and an ocean view. The train passed right behind our house and I even had them let us off on our rural road on one train adventure!
The second place (2008-2009) had a proper train station within walking distance AND a wonderful sandy beach at the bottom of our road!
Both of these places were even closer to my vision still.
3. Sunshine Coast 2009- present…most amazing ocean view. Ever. Takes my breath away daily. Is highly therapeutic for my practically shut-in mum. The beach is at the bottom of our road yet again but the hike up from the bottom is steep and the beach is rocky only. There is no train here and it is a fairly isolated and cut-off area.
Could this be symbolism perhaps of my life in general while we roost here?
My point is this. Did I use the law of attraction to help gain these home-situations that I clearly had “envisioned” and focused on, many years prior? Or did I find these homes by my own idea of what I wanted and being lucky enough to find them?
Do you believe in luck? Or do we make our own luck?
Luck or Law, I like it.
My vision these days is very clear about never returning to that hostile environment of the past, or setting foot in that town I felt indentured in, ever again.
And I plan on continuing to use “luck” through “law” to progress my life ever closer to my “vision” for my family’s best life success.
Anyway, back then I always would tell people when I was out having a nice walk in nature and "making the best" of what I had within my hostile environment, how it would be so great if, at the bottom of the road (we were in rural farmland), instead of the highway, if there was a beach, or even a small train that stopped once an hour (like in my favourite quintessential English villages!), going onwards to the next town for some better shopping. I would daydream about that all the time. I would gaze into the distance and practically “see” the sea, and “see” the train, during my daily 3km hike with my baby in the stroller, stereo filling the wilderness with the sounds of anything from Abba to Anthrax, all the way to the top of our rural, backwoods road.
This road wound up a small mountain and had some dodgy spots where a flood had washed it out years before and the residents of the road had raised the funds to have the gap bridged with gravel. The stroller hated that part. My thighs thanked me for it later.
It was peaceful in spots…peaceful enough to sing really loudly. My oldest child (he was a baby then) learned about every amazing piece of music that I love, that tells the story of my life through song…and some awesome Mummy “Metal Queen” wails! We had some great hikes and they were an integral part of us maintaining a positive outlook through the hostility veil.
So now fast forward my life to what we gained once we finally left that rural life-suck/pot-soaked/hostile redneck small B.C. town. Every place we have lived since then, seems to almost fit my “vision” of what I “saw” and yearned for during those daily hikes.
1. England 2006…we lived in a stone cottage for a short time in a rural, Cornish village, with the sea at the end of our lane. We had fabulous bus access, nearby train, amazing beaches a short bus ride away, hiking trails…it was close to my vision.
2. Vancouver Island…of the two spots we lived in, the first (2006-2008) had a beach at the bottom of the road and an ocean view. The train passed right behind our house and I even had them let us off on our rural road on one train adventure!
The second place (2008-2009) had a proper train station within walking distance AND a wonderful sandy beach at the bottom of our road!
Both of these places were even closer to my vision still.
3. Sunshine Coast 2009- present…most amazing ocean view. Ever. Takes my breath away daily. Is highly therapeutic for my practically shut-in mum. The beach is at the bottom of our road yet again but the hike up from the bottom is steep and the beach is rocky only. There is no train here and it is a fairly isolated and cut-off area.
Could this be symbolism perhaps of my life in general while we roost here?
My point is this. Did I use the law of attraction to help gain these home-situations that I clearly had “envisioned” and focused on, many years prior? Or did I find these homes by my own idea of what I wanted and being lucky enough to find them?
Do you believe in luck? Or do we make our own luck?
Luck or Law, I like it.
My vision these days is very clear about never returning to that hostile environment of the past, or setting foot in that town I felt indentured in, ever again.
And I plan on continuing to use “luck” through “law” to progress my life ever closer to my “vision” for my family’s best life success.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
...And just think...until earlier this year I would NEVER use such a mod-con as a DISHWASHER!
I am so tired of doing dishes. But three kids make a lot of dishes. And dishes I would like to have finished yesterday are now waiting until tomorrow because Mum needed some scones, or the baby was clingy, or the room just could not wait another day before vaccuming…well that last one does have a bonus factor of being able to create a new game called “whoever picks up the most toys wins a prize!” Or as close to that kind of title that my brain can come up with, on the spot. :)
What I need right now though, is someone to fix my dishwasher. I cannot stand the way the kitchen gets behind. This upsets my Mum and she tells me I am not working hard enough or prioritizing. She tells me to “get my head out of the clouds, stop focusing on writing and focus more on getting your housework done!” This is the complete opposite of what she taught me growing up…it is devastating what happens to someone in old age. It is hard to watch but necessary. I wish I could get Mum where she wants to be, and maybe one day I will. But for now, I just have to keep positive and do my best to keep her positive too. I am so grateful for the good days and I ride out the bad ones the best I can.
So in order for me to have even an ounce of time to myself to be creative (I get grumpy if I have done nothing creative in 24 hours), I pretty much have to stick it on the bottom of the totem pole. Isn’t that where a mother’s time and energy for herself and HER wants and needs usually sits? I am no stranger to this position and I know how to make it work. Most of the time.
But it would make my life just a teensy, tiny bit better if I could find someone to fix my dishwasher.
What I need right now though, is someone to fix my dishwasher. I cannot stand the way the kitchen gets behind. This upsets my Mum and she tells me I am not working hard enough or prioritizing. She tells me to “get my head out of the clouds, stop focusing on writing and focus more on getting your housework done!” This is the complete opposite of what she taught me growing up…it is devastating what happens to someone in old age. It is hard to watch but necessary. I wish I could get Mum where she wants to be, and maybe one day I will. But for now, I just have to keep positive and do my best to keep her positive too. I am so grateful for the good days and I ride out the bad ones the best I can.
So in order for me to have even an ounce of time to myself to be creative (I get grumpy if I have done nothing creative in 24 hours), I pretty much have to stick it on the bottom of the totem pole. Isn’t that where a mother’s time and energy for herself and HER wants and needs usually sits? I am no stranger to this position and I know how to make it work. Most of the time.
But it would make my life just a teensy, tiny bit better if I could find someone to fix my dishwasher.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Multi-tasking Metal Queen...Bieber's world may be at 2.0 but mine is set all the way to 10!!
When asked recently why I did not go to “work”, I began trying to explain the amount of work involved with being a full time, SINGLE (ahem!) stay at home Mum to three children (I am homeschooling the oldest), and two dogs, AND, as a thriving member of the SANDWICH generation, caregiver to my own elderly mum of eighty-seven. But my explanations always seem to be lost on deaf ears. Those who have never tried the work that I do, have no concept of how much energy, brain power or imagination it takes, each and every day, twenty-four hours a day. Well, sometimes I sleep. But never for more than four hours at a time, max. Is that normal, I wonder? What is normal about my situation though? Maybe it is MY normal. :)
I thought I would lay out the contents of my “normal” insane (?) day and see where oh where I am going to fit in the time to be a travel agent from home? So far I have only been training and it is not too bad to spend a short time on the phone and training through the computer, but how will it be when I add an eight hour shift into the mix? Will I be able to multi-task that into the day successfully?
My day begins very early…to have some time to myself, I often rise around 5am, after the final nudge for breast comfort from my youngest of 18 months, who takes up residence in my bed from approximately 2am onwards. We are still weaning and night time nursing is almost all he has left, poor lamb.
From 5am-6am I indulge in coffee, internet entertainment, emails, news and some metal (or sugary pop!) videos to get my morning started. If Rowan continues to sleep, I try and get some creativity flowing and work on one of my writing projects. But when the sun is rising, the best thing to do in those early morning hours to myself, is to stand on my deck and breathe in the morning air, watching the sunrise over the ocean before me. It is a glorious view and I feel so blessed every time I wallow in the vision before me. I love where I live right now.
Lately I have been visited by some very friendly blue-jays…they come to my deck and sit on the railings, silently observing me. I have never seen blue-jays be this vibrantly blue and Mum thinks it is a sign of good fortune. Maybe she is right. I love that the children always take the time to stop and point out the birds…no matter where we are, I have encouraged taking notice of nature as a fulfilling part of life and I love it when it shows in them.
My “me” time is shattered when the baby stumbles down the hall to find me, usually around 7am. I snuggle with him on the couch and start my morning with the previous night’s George Strombo show, followed by anything else I need to catch up on stored on my PVR. By 8am, my older two are awake and take over the couch and TV while I get breakfasts for everyone. Artzooka is my six year old son’s morning viewing choice which is a good lead in to his homeschooling lessons.I spend from 8am-9am tidying up the kitchen, sorting dishes, preparing my son’s school area and arranging an art or craft thing for my four year old daughter to do. I never sit to eat breakfast, I just eat as I go. It works. :)
At 9am, my daughter and I get washed up together and ready for the day, then we give big brother the bathroom and my girl goes downstairs to do her activity with Grandma. She usually gets some nice cakes or sweets from Grandma and they have a good time together. They are the best of friends, as it should be.
My son sits at the table from 9am to 11am to do school work, which I oversee. I sit with him and do a variety of lessons with him in between dealing with getting the baby dressed and chasing him about. It is a mega juggling act!
Some days I fall short of my self-imposed schedule, but since I am a Virgo into structure and order, things usually go fairly according to plan.
When my oldest finishes lessons, he heads downstairs to join Grandma and his sister for a bit, and if Grandma has had enough, then they play in the rec room nicely. Well, I “aim” for nicely, because as they keep seeing from trial and error, when you treat each other “nicely”, we all have a better day, lots more fun, feel good, etc. The more they keep seeing that, the better they respond to it. Time. All in good time. We bear some battle scars from Daddy and as time goes on, those scars fade and heal.
I take the baby for his nap at 11am and if I am lucky, he is asleep by 1130am. If he wants to fidget and play, it takes me longer and then I get so sleepy laying there, I just want to drift off for a nice nap…HELLO REALITY CHECK! Um, no. I can’t have a nap. I have to get lunch. And if I do actually manage to sneak a peek into dreamland, I am pulled back to earth very quickly by someone shouting, “Mummy!!! I’m hungry!!!”
Ok, so from noon-1pm I make some lunch. Did I mention I hate cooking? No, hate is too strong a word. I greatly dislike cooking. :) I do it because they have to have nutrition and I can follow a recipe. But some days it just seems like all I do is cook. And I could menu-plan like my BFF tried to teach me but taking time to menu-plan would take time away from me doing something creative, or reading a chapter of the latest Colin Angus book, so no. Maybe one day I will buckle down and make some menu plans. One day when I have some TIME.However. Until I find that time (or get someone to do it for me!), I stick to what I know and keep on aiming for nutritional balance or fun, creative meals. Whatever works to get them to eat and be happy about eating!
I don’t mind if they eat in the living room. They have a kid sized table and lunch is a good time to view a dinosaur documentary or some other educational video. I eat at the kitchen counter while cleaning up and getting more school work arranged. If I get a moment, I might be able to take a load of laundry downstairs. But Mum might request scones or some other baked good, in which case it becomes a great Home-Ec lesson for both my oldest son and my daughter. I always have to push myself (as a kitchen hater! I mean disliker.) to bake stuff with them though and it is on my list of “activities to do with children at home” which I consult often! I can make any task fun when I need to! :)
They are fabulous bakers though. Better than I am for sure and with far more enthusiasm! It makes a huge mess and that gets my cleaning super behind, but the fun outweighs the mess. Memories are made with every baking spill…
After lunch, the oldest two usually go outside to play, or if it is raining, I arrange an activity for them at the table. This is when the baby generally wakes up and I pop him into his high chair for lunch. While he eats, I tidy up, get dishes done, continue with laundry, sneak onto the computer (if lucky), squeeze a page of reading or writing in OR do some singing with whatever music I have on, and maybe take a few moments to sit down and breathe. Maybe. Or maybe the floor needs mopping, or the bathroom cleaning…the chores are neverending it seems. But the key is to keep going and keep progressing every day. Nothing is forever. This is now.
I have to start planning dinner by 3pm. I often look online to create a recipe around whatever meat I took out the night before (or that morning, whenever I remember!) and I get all the ingredients sorted out for that and then I take the baby outside to join the others, or I chase him round the house for free play. There is so much lego it is hard to be on top of it all so when my baby is on the loose, I have to drop everything to chase around behind him. If he is having a good time and playing safely in each room he enters, I try and do some tidying, laundry sorting, etc wherever he is playing.
To make myself feel good, at least once a week I put on one of my amazing organic Eminence masques (haha, this could be a plug for that company!) and let it sit on my face all day. Have been loving the results on my skin from the rose line I began using this summer. Small, but important indulgences, I feel.
When the sun is shining and the children are happily playing outside, I sometimes tackle some outdoor work. Like mowing the lawn. I really hate, oops I mean, “dislike” :) any manual labour tasks and soooo wish a strong prince charming would come along and do it for me…until then though, I slowly get on with it. If I can’t muster the strength to “get on with it”, (this calls to mind the gross phrase often chucked at me of “suck it up”…this is such an unkind phrase and makes one not want to suck anything up at all! At least in my case…it simply makes me sulky!) instead I try and bring a notebook outside with me and do some longhand work on whatever project I am working on while the children play around me. This exact blog was written in longhand over a stretch of days before I used some of my early morning ME time to post and edit it into word.
By 430pm, I have to head back to the kitchen (again?! Arrgh!) and prepare supper. If Mum feels up to it, she often stays outside with the children while I disappear to slave over a hot stove. If it is rainy out, my oldest will do some more school work at the table and the others stay with Grandma for stories and snacks.
I serve supper at 6pm which can sometimes be a struggle to get everyone sitting round the table and paying attention to eating. But I strive for it as an important factor of our day. My oldest son is already quite good at setting the table and takes great pride in this chore. Children love routine and chores…for the most part! Some things still elicit heel dragging though!
After supper, the baby hangs out with me in his high chair while I embark on more (yes, you guessed it!!) kitchen clean up. The oldest two tend to disappear to the bedroom with their desserts or downstairs to the rec room. This makes for a fun game for me of “hunt for dishes”, spread over the week whenever I have time…or whenever we run out of dessert bowls, whichever happens first!
If it is a bath night, I try and get the baby dealt with first, then secured in his playpen while I direct the other two through shower or bath time.
I aim to get everyone to bed by 8pm (which usually does not actually take place until 9pm or later once you figure in story, snacks and, generally more negotiating than my brain can handle at this point!) and then, if I am lucky, I find some time to chill on the couch and enjoy Coronation Street and Eastenders. If I am feeling extra saucy, I will maybe check out something else I have taped…Graham Norton is a current fave!
More often than not though, I will only get to catch up on any TV on the weekend, when and if I can sneak it in. By the time the children are asleep most evenings I am far too tired to stay awake another moment and am asleep for my first 4 hour stretch before my head even hits the pillow.
Some people will see this blog as self-indulgent whining. It is not meant in that way at all. It is merely a peek at what I do, how I do it, and what it takes to get it done. I am proud of myself, exhausted, sometimes can use a nice bit of ego-stroking, and overall, contented and happy.
If I can make the travel agent thing work, I will be able to provide a trip for us to Hawaii (next on my list of where I want to visit…volcanoes for the children, beaches for me!!) and I will be one step closer to the greater goals. So I just have to fit it in, I have to stretch myself thinner and make it work to reap the rewards.
I feel I am exactly where I want to be right now and I am lining up everything in my life to head towards my ultimate life’s destiny.
Group hug! :)
I thought I would lay out the contents of my “normal” insane (?) day and see where oh where I am going to fit in the time to be a travel agent from home? So far I have only been training and it is not too bad to spend a short time on the phone and training through the computer, but how will it be when I add an eight hour shift into the mix? Will I be able to multi-task that into the day successfully?
My day begins very early…to have some time to myself, I often rise around 5am, after the final nudge for breast comfort from my youngest of 18 months, who takes up residence in my bed from approximately 2am onwards. We are still weaning and night time nursing is almost all he has left, poor lamb.
From 5am-6am I indulge in coffee, internet entertainment, emails, news and some metal (or sugary pop!) videos to get my morning started. If Rowan continues to sleep, I try and get some creativity flowing and work on one of my writing projects. But when the sun is rising, the best thing to do in those early morning hours to myself, is to stand on my deck and breathe in the morning air, watching the sunrise over the ocean before me. It is a glorious view and I feel so blessed every time I wallow in the vision before me. I love where I live right now.
Lately I have been visited by some very friendly blue-jays…they come to my deck and sit on the railings, silently observing me. I have never seen blue-jays be this vibrantly blue and Mum thinks it is a sign of good fortune. Maybe she is right. I love that the children always take the time to stop and point out the birds…no matter where we are, I have encouraged taking notice of nature as a fulfilling part of life and I love it when it shows in them.
My “me” time is shattered when the baby stumbles down the hall to find me, usually around 7am. I snuggle with him on the couch and start my morning with the previous night’s George Strombo show, followed by anything else I need to catch up on stored on my PVR. By 8am, my older two are awake and take over the couch and TV while I get breakfasts for everyone. Artzooka is my six year old son’s morning viewing choice which is a good lead in to his homeschooling lessons.I spend from 8am-9am tidying up the kitchen, sorting dishes, preparing my son’s school area and arranging an art or craft thing for my four year old daughter to do. I never sit to eat breakfast, I just eat as I go. It works. :)
At 9am, my daughter and I get washed up together and ready for the day, then we give big brother the bathroom and my girl goes downstairs to do her activity with Grandma. She usually gets some nice cakes or sweets from Grandma and they have a good time together. They are the best of friends, as it should be.
My son sits at the table from 9am to 11am to do school work, which I oversee. I sit with him and do a variety of lessons with him in between dealing with getting the baby dressed and chasing him about. It is a mega juggling act!
Some days I fall short of my self-imposed schedule, but since I am a Virgo into structure and order, things usually go fairly according to plan.
When my oldest finishes lessons, he heads downstairs to join Grandma and his sister for a bit, and if Grandma has had enough, then they play in the rec room nicely. Well, I “aim” for nicely, because as they keep seeing from trial and error, when you treat each other “nicely”, we all have a better day, lots more fun, feel good, etc. The more they keep seeing that, the better they respond to it. Time. All in good time. We bear some battle scars from Daddy and as time goes on, those scars fade and heal.
I take the baby for his nap at 11am and if I am lucky, he is asleep by 1130am. If he wants to fidget and play, it takes me longer and then I get so sleepy laying there, I just want to drift off for a nice nap…HELLO REALITY CHECK! Um, no. I can’t have a nap. I have to get lunch. And if I do actually manage to sneak a peek into dreamland, I am pulled back to earth very quickly by someone shouting, “Mummy!!! I’m hungry!!!”
Ok, so from noon-1pm I make some lunch. Did I mention I hate cooking? No, hate is too strong a word. I greatly dislike cooking. :) I do it because they have to have nutrition and I can follow a recipe. But some days it just seems like all I do is cook. And I could menu-plan like my BFF tried to teach me but taking time to menu-plan would take time away from me doing something creative, or reading a chapter of the latest Colin Angus book, so no. Maybe one day I will buckle down and make some menu plans. One day when I have some TIME.However. Until I find that time (or get someone to do it for me!), I stick to what I know and keep on aiming for nutritional balance or fun, creative meals. Whatever works to get them to eat and be happy about eating!
I don’t mind if they eat in the living room. They have a kid sized table and lunch is a good time to view a dinosaur documentary or some other educational video. I eat at the kitchen counter while cleaning up and getting more school work arranged. If I get a moment, I might be able to take a load of laundry downstairs. But Mum might request scones or some other baked good, in which case it becomes a great Home-Ec lesson for both my oldest son and my daughter. I always have to push myself (as a kitchen hater! I mean disliker.) to bake stuff with them though and it is on my list of “activities to do with children at home” which I consult often! I can make any task fun when I need to! :)
They are fabulous bakers though. Better than I am for sure and with far more enthusiasm! It makes a huge mess and that gets my cleaning super behind, but the fun outweighs the mess. Memories are made with every baking spill…
After lunch, the oldest two usually go outside to play, or if it is raining, I arrange an activity for them at the table. This is when the baby generally wakes up and I pop him into his high chair for lunch. While he eats, I tidy up, get dishes done, continue with laundry, sneak onto the computer (if lucky), squeeze a page of reading or writing in OR do some singing with whatever music I have on, and maybe take a few moments to sit down and breathe. Maybe. Or maybe the floor needs mopping, or the bathroom cleaning…the chores are neverending it seems. But the key is to keep going and keep progressing every day. Nothing is forever. This is now.
I have to start planning dinner by 3pm. I often look online to create a recipe around whatever meat I took out the night before (or that morning, whenever I remember!) and I get all the ingredients sorted out for that and then I take the baby outside to join the others, or I chase him round the house for free play. There is so much lego it is hard to be on top of it all so when my baby is on the loose, I have to drop everything to chase around behind him. If he is having a good time and playing safely in each room he enters, I try and do some tidying, laundry sorting, etc wherever he is playing.
To make myself feel good, at least once a week I put on one of my amazing organic Eminence masques (haha, this could be a plug for that company!) and let it sit on my face all day. Have been loving the results on my skin from the rose line I began using this summer. Small, but important indulgences, I feel.
When the sun is shining and the children are happily playing outside, I sometimes tackle some outdoor work. Like mowing the lawn. I really hate, oops I mean, “dislike” :) any manual labour tasks and soooo wish a strong prince charming would come along and do it for me…until then though, I slowly get on with it. If I can’t muster the strength to “get on with it”, (this calls to mind the gross phrase often chucked at me of “suck it up”…this is such an unkind phrase and makes one not want to suck anything up at all! At least in my case…it simply makes me sulky!) instead I try and bring a notebook outside with me and do some longhand work on whatever project I am working on while the children play around me. This exact blog was written in longhand over a stretch of days before I used some of my early morning ME time to post and edit it into word.
By 430pm, I have to head back to the kitchen (again?! Arrgh!) and prepare supper. If Mum feels up to it, she often stays outside with the children while I disappear to slave over a hot stove. If it is rainy out, my oldest will do some more school work at the table and the others stay with Grandma for stories and snacks.
I serve supper at 6pm which can sometimes be a struggle to get everyone sitting round the table and paying attention to eating. But I strive for it as an important factor of our day. My oldest son is already quite good at setting the table and takes great pride in this chore. Children love routine and chores…for the most part! Some things still elicit heel dragging though!
After supper, the baby hangs out with me in his high chair while I embark on more (yes, you guessed it!!) kitchen clean up. The oldest two tend to disappear to the bedroom with their desserts or downstairs to the rec room. This makes for a fun game for me of “hunt for dishes”, spread over the week whenever I have time…or whenever we run out of dessert bowls, whichever happens first!
If it is a bath night, I try and get the baby dealt with first, then secured in his playpen while I direct the other two through shower or bath time.
I aim to get everyone to bed by 8pm (which usually does not actually take place until 9pm or later once you figure in story, snacks and, generally more negotiating than my brain can handle at this point!) and then, if I am lucky, I find some time to chill on the couch and enjoy Coronation Street and Eastenders. If I am feeling extra saucy, I will maybe check out something else I have taped…Graham Norton is a current fave!
More often than not though, I will only get to catch up on any TV on the weekend, when and if I can sneak it in. By the time the children are asleep most evenings I am far too tired to stay awake another moment and am asleep for my first 4 hour stretch before my head even hits the pillow.
Some people will see this blog as self-indulgent whining. It is not meant in that way at all. It is merely a peek at what I do, how I do it, and what it takes to get it done. I am proud of myself, exhausted, sometimes can use a nice bit of ego-stroking, and overall, contented and happy.
If I can make the travel agent thing work, I will be able to provide a trip for us to Hawaii (next on my list of where I want to visit…volcanoes for the children, beaches for me!!) and I will be one step closer to the greater goals. So I just have to fit it in, I have to stretch myself thinner and make it work to reap the rewards.
I feel I am exactly where I want to be right now and I am lining up everything in my life to head towards my ultimate life’s destiny.
Group hug! :)
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