reflections

so i took the gaffer to the sitter's again today, then relished teaching the girls how to skip 'double dutch'. alas i was terrible and since having the gaffer, i just can't skip that fast anymore without holding myself from peeing. so i tried to teach them the skipping game D.I.S.H. i tried very hard to remember and it didn't help that the skipping ropes were not long enough, but i'm tempted to go buy some and show them how it's done so that they will be the 'cool girls' at school. was even funnier when gaffer wanted to hold the skipping rope and spin it around. having a 30 month old say 'ok, jump mommy' when he's whipping around the snake is just too much.

went to chapter's again. sat with the latte. talked to God. He said a little bit. then my friend Zee called to tell me about a dream she had. apparently i was married to justin timberlake (sooo not my type) and that we were looking outside a huge window into a field and there were hundreds of hot air balloons starting to rise up. she said it was beautiful. i can just imagine it. i wish i could capture it. then a gigantic bull was threatening us and then he went away...strange.

so i tried writing. my exercise told me to write about a conversation someone was having. so having to eavesdrop, i listened as a couple talked. from what i gather, they were sister and brother, but older. and they didn't have much to say to each other. it was almost like their time together was forced. and it made me miss my brother a lot. i haven't spoken to him in 3 weeks. he won't talk to us. he's getting a separation from his wife of 3 years. he's changed so much.

i remember spending so much time with him. i remember his stubborn attitude, how he would laugh when mom would discipline him. i remember teaching him how to punch, because he didn't know how. i remember beating up a 6th grader who tripped him. i remember spitting in some one's face in high school because they made fun of him. i remember punching a 13th grader in the face because he made fun of him. scrappy. but he never fought. he preferred passivity. tolerance. i don't know what to make of his marriage. dare i say it aloud? she made me uncomfortable. something wasn't right about her. i watched my brother's affections and passion deteriorate. just a rock. that played game boy all the time. it breaks my heart how he's given up. and i hate that a small part of me is glad she's gone. but God honours marriage. something will happen. i had a dream that they were back together. and they were happy. i wish he would just understand that marriage is a choice. love is a choice. not a feeling. we choose to stay with our spouse. we choose to forgive them daily. God forgives us, why can we not extend the grace given to us?

where am i not forgiving?

nothing interesting

not much happened today i'm afraid. woke up. went to the gym. had an awesome workout. bought groceries. came home. had an amazing nap. woke up. made venison stew. rockstar hubby came home. went to riverside park. played in puddles. came home. gaffer's in tub with hubby, squawking like a bird. csi is on twice tonight. have my doritoes and grape crush. got the day to myself tomorrow. gonna paint. gonna write. have started first chapter of book.

a lovely morning in all

well i dropped the gaffer off at the sitter's (as she is now back from a 3week stint in africa) and i popped into my favourite bookstore in kanata, and with a venti, decaf, soy, cinnamon, not cinnamon dolce, 150degrees latte, i plopped myself in front of the fireplace with my 'chocolat' book and let myself finish reading it. i'm sure i drew stares from other latte sippers as i laughed out loud and of course cried when armande died in the end. (if i spoiled it for you, too bad) and what a treat to finish a book in one sitting. took 2 hours. i sat there for two hours. never even noticed the time. what a luxury! of course i'm home now with housework awaiting me and maybe some of those unpacked boxes can come out to play? i'll have to ipod it of course, and probably hit repeat on 'sexyback' (why oh why am i in love with that song?). maybe another latte later as i peruse my lovely tomato seedlings and encourage my peppers while listening to enya...so much work to do! but so nice outside. if i listen carefully i can hear my lawn saying 'rake me! rake me!' and my flowerbeds saying 'we've been neglected for so long! come, hoe our thick soil, get dirt under your fingers that you can spend the rest of the day sniffing like a smoker having a nic fit.' how do you quieten the garden? really...maybe this afternoon....
ok, now i'm procrastinating. much work to do. stew to make. kitchen to clean. bathroom to polish. grass to rake. cookies to eat.....

another dream...

we took the gaffer to kid zone this morning, and i took some time to swing on the monkey rings, (and i'm pleased to say that i swung very well, without too much difficulty ), and i got to read 'chocolat' a new book for me which is deliciously written. enough to inspire me to get up, track down rockstar husband and tell him we were going to paint our front door and garage door a bright fire engine red. he agreed. (yay!)
then we went to chapters to let the gaffer play with the trains that he doesn't have at home. as i frequented the washroom (excuses to check out new books) i was sucked in by the teen fiction again. and the dream came back. i want to write a teen fiction book. i've always wanted to write a fiction book, well partly fiction, actually a non-fiction but everyone would think it was fiction.

you know, the problem with dreams, is that sometimes, there are just too many. well, i know i have too many. i mean, my oldest dream, the one i've had since i was 9, was to win the nobel prize for literature. by the time i'm 50. problems with that are 1) i'm 33 and i don't have many years to go. and 2) i've read some of the books that have won and to me, they are unbelievably dull and boring and i'd probably never get it done because i'd fall asleep while writing my book. so i don't know what to do now.

i've also noticed that my writing style has pretty much completely changed. i used to look for gigantic words in the thesaurus to try out and use the most delicious phrases to write out poetry. now...now everything is simple. blunt. like me. which is interesting, because so long ago, i was very descriptive, flowing, complicated...and now...just blunt. i feel like i'm falling into the generation x writers group such as douglas coupland. but i actually missed the x generation by three years, and i was too old for generation y, so maybe i'm a floating missed chromosome? for example: rockstar hubby and i heard chris daughtery's song on the radio and instead of saying that he had a deep, raw, emotional voice that dripped a bit of sensuality and a bunch of other crap, i said he sounded like chris cornell singing country. (chris cornel used to lead soundgarden, then went on his own, then joined rage against the machine group when zack left to go on his own, but they have a new name for their band and i can't remember it anymore. incidentally, you've GOT to hear him sing 'ave maria'.rips your heart out at the rawness of it.)
and my poetry gets to the point now. just point blank, here it is. and i guess that's ok, because today's generation wants just the facts thanks (have you seen desperate housewives? too fast, too complicated, too boring) but...if it's too blunt...how quick, how forgettable would it be? i mean, look at the difference between shopaholic and anne of green gables. granted, anne is a classic. but the words! and then anything that jane austen wrote. a little tough to read the first time when you're used to light lit, but the words! oh the words! you can drink and rest on them for days! and you become that character! when i read anne, i find myself talking like her for heaven's sakes. (not that that's a bad thing, although rock-star hubby starts to look at me funny). so..how to write memorable writing..guess i'll find out. huh.

catching up

i had a marvelous weekend. nana offered to take the gaffer for the entire weekend, and rockstar hubby was working nights, so i had two evenings all to myself. friday night i stayed too busy. i went for a walk, cleaned, went to the cool bookstore to hang out, but when i got there i felt...uncomfortable, so i left. strange. stayed up late, then fell asleep. waited for rockstar hubby to come home and we had ourselves a day date. we went for a quick brekkie, then to the art museum where ron hueck had an exhibit. it was...weird. when you first walk in there is a huge, and i mean massive baby's head, about 10' high. very very detailed. very perfect. and some other figures of strange sizes, but perfectly proportioned. it was very cool but very disturbing. he had a gigantic newborn, naked and bloody on a large table, and i just felt like puking. (and i've given birth...) then i came home and my lovely friend Zee came over. she battled the storms of snow just to visit my new home. what a girl. she told me wonderful things, and that she's going to africa to live with her hubby for a year and a half. and while i'm very happy about that, because i haven't seen her this happy in a long time, i'm sad because i'll miss her like crazy. she is the ultimate friend. you know when you need to vent, or to cry or to tell someone something that appalled you? she makes all the appropriate noises, picks up on how you feel and echoes it. she doesn't become all 'miss-fix-it' or tell you everything is fine, she just listens and sympathizes and empathizes. she is the ultimate friend. i can tell her the most ridiculous thing that upset me, and she'll let me be upset so i can vent. what a girl. she'd make the perfect Christian....:)

worked out this morning, having guests for dinner, looking forward to nappy nap this afternoon...sleep is lovely.

Serendipity

ser·en·dip·i·ty [sèrrən díppətee]
n
1. discovery of something fortunate: the accidental discovery of something pleasant, valuable, or useful
2. gift for discovery: a natural gift for making pleasant, valuable, or useful discoveries by accident

(Encarta ® World English Dictionary © & (P) 1998-2005 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.)

that's me.

i was an accidental pregnancy. i was almost set up for adoption. i was not a popular girl in school. i never had a lot of friends. i was quite alone a lot.

and yet, i'm very very valuable. and pleasant. and useful.

and unexpected.

that's me.

Rain

I actually really enjoy rain. Sometimes. Like in the summertime and I'm in a bad mood so I go for a walk and I get caught in a rainstorm. The rain is so hard you can't hear your own laugh, and you're drenched within minutes. You can't even seen for the streams down into your eyes from your forehead. And you're washed clean.

But today the rain brought us 'lovely muddy puddles' as Peppa Pig would put it. So I geared up gaffer in his all yellow gear and shoved him outside with rockstar hubby and watched with glee as they splished and splashed. Muddy puddles everywhere. Is there anything more beautiful than seeing a child with flushed cheeks from excitement and joy?

And so it goes...

had a pretty darn good weekend. went to a retreat centre run by nuns where you aren't allowed to talk. had some amazing moments with God. then came away completely uplifted and very confident...
rockstar husband isn't feeling well. sounds like flu is going around. i didn't feel well last week, but i sure didn't puke. wanted to, but never happened. gaffer ok.
went to kidzone this morning. played on slides and ropes. tried to lift my own body onto the rings, but found i couldn't do it. became very thoughtful/sad. i have decided, once and for all, that i need to be able to lift my own body. 10 times. i need to lose 5 pounds, but i'm going to lose 10. i need to do this. i need to take better care of myself. a better steward of what goes into my body. and i need to exercise more. everyday. i don't have a farm to take care of, so i need to start getting out.
so while the family slept fitfully, i went out for a speed walk to two stores in c.p. but immediately i began to jog. so i jogged to the first store. came away empty handed. went to second store which was a book store, and bought my book because i had a 5$ gift certificate, but was very unimpressed with their snootiness. seriously. chapters is friendlier. and that's scary. so i jogged home. it hurt. every step. i thought i would faint. but i didn't. and i didn't stop. i couldn't stop. i wasn't allowed. i remembered why i love jogging. and why i hate it. i only went 3km, but i liked it.
i think i have a food addiction. i like food way too much. i graze too much. maybe i need to be a 3meal a day person? dunno.
gonna achieve these goals. gonna beat last year's try race. have to.

got to.

On the subject of vomit

Yah, I know, catchy title. Especially after the last one.

This morning at 5am the gaffer was screaming. So we went in. Puke. Everywhere. Poor guy. What a stink. So we cleaned him up and put him back to bed.

6:30am. Gaffer screaming. I go in as rockstar husband has already left for firefighter work. Puke. Puke on sheets. Puke on toys. Puke on me. No biggie. Clean him up. Bring him downstairs.

Now later on, I notice I still have vomit in my hair and on my shirt. Why doesn't this gross me out?
I think it's because we are immune to our own children's...stuff. Anyone else's and it's gross.
Hm...probably designed that way.

Dog doodoo

We've been at our house for three weeks now, and it is getting exciting to see the snow melting so that I can discover what may possibly grow in the gardens. I pack up the gaffer in his oversize yellow rain suit and rain boots and leed him outside with a plastic shovel. As I begin to direct him to a site where he can dig away, I noticed...landmines. Everywhere. Large ones.
Yes, I know I have a dog. I've cleaned up all her poop. And she is a small dog. These were....very very large. The owner who lived here before us had a large brown lab.

So I'm picking up more dog doodoo, and yah, I'm kinda ticked. It is everywhere. I succumb to telling the gaffer to stay on the porch while I make a dent in the yard. One hour later, I've managed to pick up...half. I'm very very angry now. But what fuels my anger even more is the amount of garbage I'm picking up as well. I can live with the plastic. You can't help bags that fly wherever they feel like catching the wind. I can live with all the branches that have snapped off the dead tree in our yard. I can even...manage to not lose it picking up all the poop. But my fire burns at the amount of cigarette butts that are everywhere. And only two kinds. And the rusty chunks of fence. And oh look! Some old coffee cans. And can you believe it? Spray bottles filled with chemical. Funny but I don't recall the garbage being in the picture.
But I am running around picking up after this...pig who lived here before I did, and I'm having a really hard time feeling sorry for him. I forgave him for sealing up the back porch door before we moved in, so that it does not open. I forgave him for selling us a house with a furnace that has not yet been fixed because it is so complicated. I forgave him for all of the large holes and enormous screws left in the walls, and I forgave him for all the household cleaners, rubbermaid lids (where are the bottoms?), kleenex boxes, broken shelves and the pile of rocks in our garage. (?!) I forgave him for making sure that every single light bulb would burn out within a week of us living here. I forgave him for not leaving us the garbage tags for the rest of the year, so now we have to pay 2$ for every garbage bag we want to throw out.

but now I'm annoyed....

so to make everything better for the moment, I took the gaffer out front and we jumped in muddy puddles for half an hour and then I planted my seeds in their peat discs...

I am going to convince my rock star husband to pay some kid 50$ to clean up every piece of doodoo in the yard....

Tough Girl

Confession: I've always wanted to be the tough girl. I've usually loathed the whiny, simpering, 'oh help me' girls that you see on tv, read about in books, watch in movies. You know the James Bond girls who are always screaming 'James! James!'. I always liked the tough ones like Octopussy, and Pussy Galore (bad names but what can you do?) who knew how to kick butt, fly planes and look recklessly windswept and sexy at the same time. I'm afraid when I get windswept I look like a raccoon with the whites under my eyes and my too pink cheeks.
I've done a few tough things I think. I used to rock climb. I've camped (with my husband doing the dirty work), I kayaked in Lake Superior with two girl friends and camped out on deserted islands, swimming in freezing cold waters buck naked. I joined a Timbersports team and won first place once in log decking. I've even entered a few try-a-triathlons and blew my knee in the process.
But lately, I've been itching...to do something...a little crazy. So I've decided to go camping, by myself. Now I've mentioned to a few friends before, and of course the responses were expected. "It's not safe! What if a bear attacks you! What if you get lost? I know of a girl who went camping alone and she died from a cougar attack..." etc.
But I'm going.
My rockstar husband knows a spot I can go to, where I'll be left alone. But close enough to my car to take off if I have to. I'm looking forward to it. Yes, I'm terrified a moose will step on my tent in the middle of the night. I'm afraid the tent will rip in a thunder storm and I'll get soaked. But I think the worst of it will be the mosquitoes carrying me off.
But I'm going.

To prove something? Dunno. But I have to do it.

Of Better Husbands

so i'm at the gym this morning, getting dressed, and there were two women there talking. how could i not overhear them? they were talking about the rrsp commercial on tv, where the guy says to his wife, see what you got when you married me? a little of this. and he points to his head. then he proceeds to go forward in the car when he's trying to go backwards. and the women said, 'how true of our husbands!' and then they laughed. then they went on to talk about how their husbands weren't that smart.
i felt sick.
how could they speak that way about their significant other?

you know, i have a few very close friends and they are married to the best guys in the world. do you know why? because they never complain about them! as far as i can tell, their husbands are perfect. and beautiful. i never hear about how X didn't do the laundry, or how Y was trying to build something and it didn't work 'of course'. i only hear about how great their husbands are. of course the husbands make mistakes. but the wives certainly don't need to point it out. they need to just forgive and let it go.

a lot of people think i have the best husband in the world. everywhere i go i hear about how great he is. i know how great he is. but i also know his huge faults. but that doesn't mean i'm going to tell anyone about them. as far as i'm concerned, they can keep believing that my husband is a rockstar. 'cause i think he is. sure he makes me nuts. sure he screws up big time. sure he does mean things and insensitive things. but i'm not going to brag about his negatives. just his pluses.

so if you really look at a woman's husband, the way she talks about him, building him up; you can see why she married him. why he's such a good catch. i know my close girls have great catches. i see their beauty and amazing personalities all the time. because their wives put that light under them. and show them off.

why can't more women do that?
let's give credit to our men. they deserve the best from us.

love you rockstar husband.