Proud of Himself

Hmmmm, I'm bored. What kind of trouble can I get into?

Well, look at me! I climbed in here all by myself! Do you know that Mommy won't let me climb the stairs? Well, I showed her! I climbed into my toybox. Ha! Now what should I do?
Oh yeah! Throwing toys is fun! Wheee!

.067 seconds later...

Well that was cool. And Mom looked really worried a few times. Mission accomplished. Now how the heck do I get out of here?

Here we go. Easy stuff. Man, I'm getting big. I think I'll go empty the drawers now and try to eat the waxed paper...

WHAT IS POUTINE?!?

Really?
Oh, ye unfortunate souls! My heart bleeds for thee!
I'll tell you what. You come on over to my house and I'll serve you up a lovely plate of poutine. Or, if you like, we can visit one of the six local poutine stands.
Quebec = abundant poutine. McDonald's has poutine here. Burger King, too. And Wendy's. And it's one of the main reasons I go to the movies.
I'll describe it, but I want you to keep in mind that the description doesn't do it justice at all!
Pile a whole bunch of french fries on a plate (or a styrofoam container if you're frequenting one of your local poutine stands!). Then, generously cover the fries with cheese curds. Sometimes, mozzarella is used, but it doesn't compare to the curds, dudes. Smother in gravy.
YUM.
It's good for the soul.

The movie was okay. The company was lovely. Fun was had. Poutine was consumed. It was a good night.

Now, it's family night, and I must be off. All of you should go out and try some poutine. You'll thank me for it.

But your thighs won't!

Tonight I Shall Have Fun

So. Jim and I have agreed that I need to start being more selfish. This is something that's come out of our most recent (and ogoing) crisis. One of the things.
So tonight I'm leaving my darling family and I'm going to the movies with a friend. Doesn't sound like much, maybe, but do you know how long it's been since I've asked a friend to do anything? YEARS, people.
I'm excited! I am going to look pretty (or give it my best go, anyway!)! I'm going to eat poutine! We're going to watch "Lady in The Water" by M. Night Shamalanalmalamylamylamylamlan.
I'm going to have fun.
Oh man, this is so much work. I hope all this fun-having and selfishness gets easier with practice...

The Art of Saying No

I have this problem. I want people to be happy.

Huh? Doesn’t sound like a problem, you say? Perhaps I should re-phrase that.

I have this problem. If people aren’t happy, I assume it’s my fault, and I do everything I can to remedy the situation.

This can be bad. It tends to cut into my own happiness quite significantly, see?

The boss rushes in with another project that she needs “someone” to do ASAP. I Can do that!

A friend needs help organizing a group event. I’m your girl!

Jim seems quiet. I must have done something wrong!

That man in the elevator is scowling. Maybe he doesn’t like my shoes!

Why do I do this? I do not know. But I know one thing: it has to change. ‘Cuz it’s driving me bonkers.

“Just say ‘no’!” advises my best friend. Hahahahahaha she is so funny. Because for me, that is the hardest thing in the world.

My first performance review as a government employee went smashingly; the praise was almost embarrassing. But at the end, my boss (who is so wise to do this for me) said, “I have one negative comment for you. You’re a people-pleaser. It sounds good, but it’s not. You’re going to get taken advantage of, and it’ll hurt you in the long run. You have to learn to say no.”

She was right. I haven’t mastered the art of saying no (haven’t even mastered the art of saying maybe, friends), and it’s hurting. At work, I’m seen as the go-to girl; the one who can do anything, and FAST! The problem is, I end up with piles or work that I don’t have enough time for, and it’s not the quality I’d like it to be by the deadline. At home, I’m the girl who’s given up everything – her whole self – for her family. And now I’m unhappy. Everyone around me is taken care of. Relaxed. Secure.

But I am…

Lost.

I need to learn to say no. I need just a touch of selfishness…just enough so that I can be happy, too. I need to think of me.

The question is…how do I do that without feeling the guilt of letting everyone down?

Good Grief This Blog Is Boring

I'm still in my events-which-I-will-not-write-about-(yet)-induced funk.

So allow me to share a humorous little story with you so you can stop jabbing that pen in your eye with the overwhelming boredom and whatnot.

This morning after feeding Liam, he climbed down off the bed as he always does and proceeded to crawl off toward the bathroom. His usual routine is to stand at the bathtub and push all the shampoo bottles in to bounce of the bottom and make a joyfully loud sound. The wonder of it all! The glee! So I was a little curious as to why I wasn't hearing these familiar sounds as I pulled on a pair of boxers. As I walked toward the bathroom, I heard another sound.

Splash, splash, splash. SPLASH! splashsplashsplashsplash...etc.

Oh dear.

I was rather disconcerted when I entered the bathroom and found my baby son hanging over the toilet, his hand fully submerged to the wrist, waving his arm back and forth with great force. The smile on his face made me smile too, despite the horrors of it all.

Then I saw that the water was not just water. It was water and pee and toilet paper.

Still, Liam seemed rather unconcerned that he was playing in pee. He objected loudly as I whisked him over to the sink, but his smile returned when he discovered that water was fun to play with in the sink, too!

And there was no pee in the sink.

So I was okay with it, too.

I'm Not Dead...

...but there are some things you just don't write about on your blog. Whether it's for the preservation of your job or respect for the ones you love, you just don't write about some things. Okay, maybe some do write about them...and that's great! For them. I guess there are just some things I don't write about.

So, when your life is consumed with these things that you don't write about, it's hard to write, you dig? Which is why I've been so quiet lately.

I'm still reading, though, and I'm still here! The kids are well and good, and are the joys of my heart. And I have very dear, sweet friends who love me and who I am so blessed to know.

Very soon, I shall hope back up on the horse and write.

I promise.

God and Flowers

Caleb, from the back seat of the van, begins to complain about something. It’s been a busy day, Aidan’s whining and Liam is yelling loudly in the middle seat. I cannot hear what Caleb is saying.
“What?” I yell.
More mumbling. Something about “skin” and “hurt”.
“I can’t hear you, hon!” I yell over the din from the younger children.
Somehow, I hear him sigh in frustration. I make a monumental effort to hear him this time.
“My skin is growing too close to my nails again! That means that when you cut my nails, it’ll hurt my skin!”
“OH! Oh, I heard you that time! Oh! Yeah? Your skin? Too close to your nails? Aw, that hurts, doesn’t it?” I congratulate myself on hearing him and on being sympathetic, then go back to trying to placate Liam and figure out why Aidan is whining.
Something from Caleb way in the back.
“UGH! Caleb, I cannot hear you! The kids are yelling!”
My frustration reaches a new level.
I wrench myself around to look at him, and his little beautiful face is miserable. My heart hurts a bit for him. Poor kid’s just trying to be heard.
He waits until the younger boys have quieted down a bit, then tries again:
“Why?”
“Why what, dear?” My head hurts.
“Why does God do that? Make my skin grow so close to my nails so it hurts when you cut them?”
Jim says something sarcastic while I struggle to come up with an answer to satisfy his question. A pause, then, from Caleb,
“Maybe it’s because he did so many treats. He did so many treats for us that he has to do something bad, too.”
I don’t know where it came from. I don’t. But I do know that I didn’t feel frustrated anymore. I felt calm. And so in awe of my Caleb. What if I hadn’t made the effort to hear him? I would have missed his striking revelation!

Another one with Caleb:

Mom, what does perfume smell like?

Perfume? Well, there’s a lots of different kinds.

But what does it smell like?

Well…a lot of it smells sweet!

Sweet? Like what?

Like…flowers.

Like you?

He keeps making me love him more and more! I am helpless against it!

Aidan is FOUR!

It's late, but I want to acknowledge Aidan's birthday (June 29th).
I think it's hard for me to write about my middle boy...well, it's hard to write about the pregnancy, anyway. It was tough. Preterm labour at 21, 24 and 33 weeks, bedrest for four months, severe depression, insulin-dependant gestational diabetes...I was convinced I would lose him until I hit 26 weeks. He ended up being born at 37 weeks, 1 day. To me, it seemed a small miracle. I had my boy. My second baby, and all was right with the world.

Aidan is a dear boy. He's been the favorite of all his daycare workers. Compassionate, caring and sweet, he is effortlessly endearing. He loves hugs and kisses, loves music, and is always up for a snuggle. He's addicted to Pokemon and, like his big brother, loves the Gamecube. And Gameboy. And Playstation.
Oy.

It was hard on Aidan when Liam was born. Not the fact that he wasn't the youngest any more...no! In fact, he relishes being the "big brother" and is excellent in the role. It was the fall in attention, the lack of time with Jim and I that got him, I think. But he's adjusted. He is amazing with Liam...he's always entertaining or comforting him, and enjoying doing so! What a dear, sensitive soul he is. Do you know that he adores baking with me? And will even play My Little Ponies with me for like, ten minutes before they start to fly across the room? It's true! I look at him and feel blessed.

I wonder if this feeling of amazement that he's here, actually here with me will ever diminish? I was so sure I'd lose him so many times...so convinced of it that when I finally held him in my arms, I was in awe of the fact that he was okay.

His beauty is so potent to me. His spirit is so pure. Don't get me wrong; the boy is a huge goofball, like his Dad. He loves acting the fool just to get some giggles, and is very good at it. He is amazing in his selflessness at his age.

Happy Birthday, sweet James Aidan. You are a joy to everyone you meet!

Ghost Story Wednesday (It's Blogger's Fault!)

I’ve never really “gotten” much from pictures of orbs. I can’t explain them, I don’t get specific messages from them…sometimes, I get a definite energy from them, but like most people, I can only guess at what they mean. Still, they’re fascinating, aren’t they? Because they make us wonder!

While I was in Vermont, we drove a lot. The road leading away from the resort was winding and tree-lined, and happened to have this beautiful old mill on it:

I admired the mill every day, saying often that I wanted to take pictures of it. “It’s haunted,” I said to Jim, who offered many times to stop so I could snap a few pictures. I kept putting it off until the last time we drove down that road and away from the resort. They day was overcast, but I was overjoyed it wasn’t raining. Maybe I could get some good pictures. I snapped several, then connected to the energy of the place and asked any entity that was there to show up in the next picture. I immediately felt a coolness in front of me, snapped the shot, and got this:

“COOL!” I shouted, but nobody heard me; Jim was arguing with the boys in the van and the street was deserted. Still, I think somebody must’ve heard…so I whispered, “thanks,” too.

One rainy morning, I went outside very early in the morning to take shots of the weather, and felt a presence all around me, and everywhere…I got this:

Yes, it could be rain, and I would say that it was automatically, except…except for that feeling. That presence. And this is rain:

Different, no?

When I got home, I found a note from a dear reader in my inbox, with this attached:

And here’s a really cool one (I like the blue colour) from a few months ago, from another reader:

Another one from a dear friend and reader which has special meaning:

Truly, I think these orbs mean something to the person taking the picture, and the people who will see the picture. I think they’re presences. They want to be in the picture, too…because they’re there, too!

What do you think?

Any orb experts out there?

In any case, keep sending your pictures and I'll keep posting them.

Upsetedness

Blogger will not let me post pictures. I've only been trying for several hours. An entire day, really. And my ghost story post is all about orbs. Pictures of them.

Sucky.

I tell ya, I just need a liiiiittle push and I'll be following some of my esteemed computer freinds over to a more friendly interface. Suggestions, anyone?

In the meantime, I'll keep trying with the pictures...

Bye Bye, Vacation. I Love You.

Today is the tenth and final day of my vacation. I started relaxing on day nine.

I needed this. While we were in Vermont, I found myself stressed, frazzled, stressed, and stressed. What is WRONG with me? I asked myself so many times a day. I argued with Jim, snapped at the kids, and generally felt awful. My sinus infection was bad for the first few days, and it rained, rained, rained...but those weren't the problems. On Wednesday night, Jim and I put Caleb in the "Kid's Night Out" program and a babysitter (provided by the resort) took care of Liam and Aidan at the condo. Jim and I went for a nice dinner and then drove for a bit. It should have been wonderful, but I felt so...stretched. I just couldn't relax into it. Tears, unfortunately, were part of that night.

I finally realized that I was trying so hard to have fun that I was sort of missing the whole point of the vacation. I intently scanned the resort's schedule every morning and evening, planning the day ahead. I was so disappointed when the rain prevented us from doing so many things...all I could do was think about how we could salvage some of the trip.

I think, looking back on it, that it had been so very long that we'd taken a real vacation that I just...didn't know how to do it! So much has happened over the past several years...three kids, five (yes, FIVE) moves, graduating University, career changes, moving away from our families...so very much more. I can't even begin to list all that has happened in our lives. I've been so busy doing that when I finally got a chance to sit back and enjoy a break, I didn't even see it for what it was. I just kept doing. We got home Friday, and spent Saturday getting ready for Aidan's party. Saturday night, I had the mother of all Irritable Bowel attacks. I'm talking pain so bad that I blacked out a few times and had to work really hard at not puking. Pain so bad that I ended up with wads of my own hair wound around my fingers and then thrown in the trash.

Then yesterday, we had my darling Aidan's fourth birthday party, and it was really lovely. I was busy throughout, of course, but I was so exhausted and just so...done...that I couldn't muster any stress. I laughed with our friend and daycare worker, who brought her kids. I asked my vegetarian sister if she'd like a hot dog (oops...sorry, dear!), and laughed over that, too. I ate cake. I howled with laughter when the kids tried to bash open the piñata (has anyone actually had the kids open one of these and not had to rip it open themselves? 'Cos that's what I ended up doing...just tearing that motherfucker apart and dumping the contents all over the grass). Strangely, amidst the chaos, I found myself relaxing. I went to bed feeling something so peaceful and amazing...something I haven't felt in a while: Contentment.

Today, on my last day before I return to work, I've been calm. Anxious about going back; about losing the bit of peace I've gained back, but generally at peace with the world.

To all of you who I owe emails (it truly has been on the fritz, but it's been up and running for several days and I've been lax), I'm sorry. I know I owe some of you a phone call, too. Sorry again. No. No, I can't be sorry. I needed this time. But here's what's true: I've missed you! And you know what else? Liam is so deliciously cute all the time, but when I'm relaxed, he's nearly unbearably so. And Caleb? He's so damn smart - the kid blows my mind. And my Aidan...my newly four year-old boy...what a dear soul he is. What a loving soul. And Jim, that man of my heart...he is good. He loves me. I am so, so blessed.

Even rain smells better when you're relaxed, you know. And hey! I'm not worried so much. About...well, about everything. I know the stress will creep back...it's inevitable. But right now, right in this moment, Jim is sitting on the step watching a storm roll in. The air is cool. I'm going to go join him.