Confession: I'm a complainer

I have a confession to make:

I complain about my child.

There. I said it. It's out. I'll just wait here while you reread that, shake your head and call me a bad parent.

Done? OK, good.

When I decided to go back to school, I had to make a lot of tough decisions. I had to leave the comfort zone that I was pretty happy in, give up the home that I loved so much and hardest of all I had to swallow my pride and ask for some help by leaving F with my parents. If you can imagine tearing your heart out and leaving it behind over and over again over the course of six months, you know what I'm talking about.

When I finally - and I mean finally - got to bring him to Halifax to start daycare and live with me, it was a challenge. I had a routine, a schedule, a little life that involved a lot of missing him but not a lot of including him. I had to rethink my approach to my days, my weeks - to every minute of down time. I had to toddler-proof my life, and I was so happy to do it but so exasperated when it didn't go smoothly.

A certain celebrity was quoted as saying that he didn't understand why parents referred to things they've done as "sacrifices" because in his mind there's nothing more important than your child, and that's true... but you do still sacrifice other things to be a better parent. It doesn't mean that those other things were more important or less important than the role as parent, just that they had to be put on the backburner or forgotten altogether.

I had to sacrifice the better part of F's 3-year-old life in order to do what it would take to be a better parent, but then in the same breath I lamented how tired I was, how poorly he was behaving and how tiresome he could be sometimes... but I wouldn't change a second of it.
I wouldn't trade a single meltdown, time-out, temper tantrum, spilled drink or fingerprint on my newly cleaned windows because I know how many people would do anything to have that.

So tonight, as I wandered down the hall in the dark I found myself thanking the universe that I hadn't tripped over anything but longing to step on the dinky cars I normally curse, or to feel a few cracker crumbs under my bare feet because it would mean that F was sleeping soundly a room away.

And I hope that next week after washing the living room window 32 times, pleading with him to put his pants back on, tripping over stuffed animals and finding boogers in my hair that I remember just how empty this apartment feels without him.

Thumbs Up for Thursdays! (August 22)

I've said it before, BUT CAN YOU BELIEVE AUGUST IS ALMOST OVER?!

Seriously, you guys, there is only one more Thursday before September is upon us. Shit, right? We'll soon be packing away the summer things, but not before enjoy the last few days and weeks of summer. This week was refreshingly quiet, filled with a couple of great surprises and an astonishing amount of caffeine. As always, there was lots to be done and little of it was finished. Luckily for everyone, tomorrow is Friday and the weekend is within our reach.

I'm looking forward to being even less productive in the upcoming days, but in the meantime I'll be appreciative of the things that deserved a Thumbs Up this week!

1. My parents hosted F for the week, so I've been a free agent all week - and will be until early next week! I've been missing him all week, but I have to admit that I've been enjoying grown up TV and getting lots of work done. That said, I'm really looking forward to catching up on snuggles!

2. I had a fun night out for the first time in a long time. It was well deserved, I really needed it, and that's all I'm saying. :)

3. My almost-85-year-old Nanny spent the night with me last night, on a very rare trip away from home for her. I grew up right next door to this amazing lady, and she is a focal point in most (if not all) of my childhood memories. Being 5 hours away, I don't get to spend as much quality time with any of my family members as I would like, but it was a treat to have her stay with me and see my place. Extra awesome was our trip to Swiss Chalet for soup, cheesecake and a spot o' tea followed by The Beverly Hillbillies before bed.

4. I had two interviews for an amazing opportunity this week, which has rekindled my confidence in my own abilities. After months of sending out resumes and not hearing a peep from any employer, two interviews in as many days was a nice reaffirmation that I have a lot to offer. That said, I was sad to receive a resume for my current position which means my days in my current chair may be numbered.

5. Last, but definitely not least, I had "coffee" with a wonderful friend today. She's an inspiration and like a big sister to me. And I owe her a big thank-you and a kick in the arse for getting me addicted to the Matcha green tea chiller! I'm on my way to get another right. this. minute.

Have a great day! What would you give a Thumbs Up to this week?

Stuff

Isn't it amazing how stuff accumulates?

Admittedly, I did far too much shopping these past 6 months. Part of the problem certainly lies in the fact that I had some need for spring and summer clothing, but the real issue was probably more related to some sort of validation or gratification I found in new clothes than anything else. I love removing the price tag and size sticker and wearing a new article of clothing for the first time.

 

Over the past 8 months at my job, I've had a real glimpse into the excess that I live in and the absolute poverty some of my neighbours and community members live in. It's a drastic difference. Last week alone, I removed more than a laundry basket of clothes that I don't wear or don't quite fit into from my closet. More than a laundry basket. Some clothes still had tags on them. Some were never worn. Some were well-worn. It's shameful, really, to have so much. I don't need half of what remains hanging in my closet, but I appreciate having it and I am committing to not adding to it unless it's absolutely necessary.

I love fashion, but I love my job. 

It is an honour and a privilege to work with and serve many of the people I do - and I'm not even a front-line worker. I sit in a cushy, air conditioned administrative office in my business wear and high heeled shoes five days a week. Sometimes I complain about being too cold so I have an extra sweater hanging on the back of my chair. But I've torn it all down and gone to the food kitchens. I've gone to the homeless shelter. I've handed out breakfast to hungry kids, and sat with an open ear for those who had no one to talk to and I'm better for it. 

This week, I've seen people with next to nothing offer their friends and neighbours what little they had in the aftermath of a fire... meanwhile, I struggle to let go of jeans that don't fit and shirts that I'm "too old" to wear. All because I'm attached to stuff.

I challenge you, my friends, to look through your closets and remove what you no longer need. Get rid of those too-small jeans or the clothes you held onto from high school. Take them to The Salvation Army, Value Village, a community centre. Those leftover school supplies the kids had before they went off to university? Drop them off at a local youth group meeting. Pick up a few cans of soup or pasta sauce and drop them in the food bank box at Sobeys. Schedule one evening out of your month to volunteer somewhere. 

No matter how much or how little we have, we can all help. 

A Case of the Mondays

I'm sure it will come as no surprise that Monday isn't my favourite day of the week.

Who likes the end of the weekend right? How can anyone be excited for another week in the office, especially with temperatures expected to reach 30*C? Hellooooo, that's beach weather and this beach bum hates missing out on all the fun in the sun. But, they're unavoidable. I come face to face with Monday morning every week, so today (after sleeping in a half hour), I decided to make the most of it.

Instead of dreading my day, I realized it's a blank slate. This whole week is really a blank slate. I can either enjoy it, or not. It's a simple concept, but it's not an easy thing to do.

I easily get caught up in all the things that make Mondays suck.

Red left yesterday.

I have five 10-hour days ahead of me.

I'm tired.

The list goes on, and on, and on...





Never underestimate the power of a Google search to make you smile.

But, I have five days of work ahead of me. I can get a lot done this week. I can make a difference - no matter how small - at each of my jobs.

I woke up today in a big, comfortable bed inside a big, comfortable apartment. More importantly, I woke up today. Healthy. Alive.

I have another week of breakfast at the dining room table with F, in our PJ's. It's also another week of our drive to and from day care, looking for big trucks, "ambliances", and city street sweepers. Another week of reading books before bed.

It's going to be a hot, sunshine-y week and I'll be in an air-conditioned office during the brunt of the heat, and out walking with F and the dog when the sun is setting. Beautiful.

They may be small blessings, but they are blessings nonetheless.

Happen

I am a planner.

I like to orchestrate things. I always have, from planning out the way my friends and I would play our games as kids to planning (or, ahem, rehearsing) how I want important conversations or interviews to go. It's everything from attempting to plan my outfits to planning my career, my life, and possibly my death (I totally plan to live-tweet it).

For over a week it's been F, Red and I and it's been wonderful. As per usual, I made a solid attempt to plan everything out - from meals to adventures, swimming pool visits to movie nights on the couch. What I didn't plan for was F to get sick. Or for Red to spend most of the weekend laying in bed exhausted from the excitement of chasing a toddler around.

It was an impromtu snugglefest that reminded me that you can't plan for the best things in life. You can't plan the best way to fall in love. You can't plan for those magical, impromtu hugs that seem to grab your heart and soul and warm them up with a squeeze. You can't omit the occassional meltdown and hiccup from your plans, no matter how hard you try.

The beauty of life is that things come as they're meant to, whether we realize it or not. Timing is everything - we just don't have the clock. Blessings and surprises are hiding around every corner, but you'll never see them if you're trying to pencil them in somewhere else.

I didn't plan to fall totally head over heels this spring. I didn't plan on giving up so much of my independence to be a part of something bigger than just me. I hadn't planned on introducing someone so important to F. But, I would have missed out on a lot of I'd been so busily wrapped up in trying to plan it all out.

If there's anything I've learned so far this year, it's this:

Just let it happen.

Final Firsts

Sometimes, without intending to, I seem to torture myself with unnecessary punishment.
 
After surviving Christmas (sans J) without a single tear, I made the impossibly stupid decision to dig out my wedding rings. They've been tucked away for months now, unseen but not forgotten. I looked at them for a moment or two, shiny and pretty in their box before I defied my own sense and pushed the boundaries of my own stupidity by putting them on.
 
Even after months of not wearing them, my left ring finger still feels naked. Before my engagement I had even worn my Claddagh ring on my left hand, always pointed inwards. I looked down at my hand, my engagement ring and wedding band sparkling back at me. It was a weird sensation. The rings suit my hand and yet they looked so wrong. They felt wrong, and not just because my fingers have grown far too small for them. I slid them off, tucked them safely in their box and looked at them one more time before I put them away. What possessed me to do that? I'm not even sure.
 
I hurried around at getting things ready for my big weekend "away" with F. I took him to my apartment in Halifax for the weekend for some quality time and also so he can get comfortable here. When we finally packed the car and hard our coats and boots on, we said good-bye to Breton Cove and started on our drive.
 
It wasn't until I saw the "Not Operating" lights flashing to the ferry until I realized that I had to do something I'd been dreading: I had to drive by my old house. Anxiety gripped my chest tightly, and that sick feeling that comes from pure dread spread over me. It won't be so bad I thought, lying to myself. As we got closer, the sick feeling got stronger. My articial Christmas tree stood in the window, my beautiful red drapes parted wide to show it off. It looked beautiful, perfect even. A perfect little home for a little family. As I rounded the turn, I couldn't bring myself to look in the rear view mirror for one last glance. The tell-tale tingle came to my nose and my lip quivered against my will as tears stung my eyes.

It's not mine any more.

I almost pulled the car over, but I realized that this was just another first: another bridge to cross, another hurtle to overcome and I survived it. There's only one first left: New Years.

2012 was supposed to be a great year, and in a lot of ways it has been. It's been a blessing in disguise, really. I've grown immensely. I found myself, my niche and I'm well on my way to finding happiness. I set goals and surpassed them. I started dreaming again. I've learned who my true friends are, and found the strength to wave farewell to the others. I've made new friends, strengthened the bonds with my family and I've worked on my relationship with myself. My life is still a little messy, but I love it in all it's imperfections.

I don't know exactly what's in store for me in 2013, but I know I will make it big.

Boring Day

We survived Christmas.

In truth, it was highly unlikely that I wouldn't make it through the day but it was a real fear for me nonetheless. After spending the better part of the last two months almost totally alone, being around family was a precarious combination of stressful and relaxing, alternating between the two quicker than you can say "turkey dinner". I won't deny that I spent the entire day waiting for the phone to ring, only to disappointed (and a little bit hurt) by a text message from J that said "Merry Christmas. How did F make out?"

Mom and Dad's living room looked like Toys-R-Us and Walmart's Christmas aisle threw up in it. There were toys, presents, Christmas stockings and ornaments every where. By the time all of the presents were opened (over an hour after the commencement), you could barely tell there was a floor beneath all the torn wrapping paper and empty toy boxes. F was so excited he was, possibly for the first time ever, at a loss for words. He walked around the living room talking to everyone and looking at everyone's gifts.

I was ready for bed by mid-afternoon, and exhausted by the time I'd finished my turkey dinner. F's joy was fading into a sour mood, and my patience was all but gone. When we settled into bed, F with his new toys and me with my new Kobo, it took about ten minutes for us both to conk out. I was more than a little happy to wake up today and to know that Christmas is over, at least for another year.

I laid in bed this morning thinking of all the presents I had found under the tree yesterday, how generous my family had been. I thought of how blessed I am to have the love and support of my parents, and how incredibly blessed I am to have a healthy, happy little boy to spend my days with. In the midst of his meltdown last night, I had lost my temper and reached the end of my rope and I regretted it this morning.

So many mothers were without their children yesterday. So many mothers would have given anything to have a meltdown take place in the middle of Christmas dinner or to have their child stick their tongue out at them and be saucy as she was getting his jacket on him.

The best gift of all was bouncing off the walls yesterday, not wrapped neatly under the tree.

Awesome

Parenting.

There's a job that's full of surprises, mostly good but let's be real: There's a few doozies in there, too.

Like the explosive poo's that come from a breastfed baby. No amount of What to Expect literature can prepare you for that one. I learned pretty quickly that two changes of clothes for baby and at least one extra, clean shirt for me was a necessity. I won't go into detail on how that lesson was learned, but honey, it ain't pretty.

Another thing I wasn't entirely prepared for was how grating a baby crying can be on your nerves, especially when you don't understand what the problem is. It takes time, practice and a lot of patience (and, OK... some Mommy time-outs) to figure out what every cry means. I was lucky in that F usually only cried because he was hungry, and if he had a dirty diaper I could usually smell him from the next county over anyway. It is heart-breaking and mind-boggling that a parent or caregiver could hurt an inccocent, helpless child but if you've ever spent three hours listening to a screaming baby, you can almost see how it gets to that point.

I'm sure that there are plenty of women who popped out a kid and just knew what to do. I had an alright idea, I knew how to hold a baby and change diapers and F knew how to grab a boob. All good, right? Yes and no. Like any skilled trade, parenthood takes practice. It's a learning experience, and the learning curve is a little different for all of us. Every bone in my body was aching to be a Mom, and while the timing and circumstances weren't exactly what I was dreaming of, I ran with it. Every day has been an experience, to say the least. I was ready for breastfeeding and being tired, but nobody prepared me for the emotional exhaustion. I was prepared to have a baby, but toddlerhood was on us before I knew it.

I imagine taming a lion would be easier than parenting a toddler sometimes. Have you ever seen a three-year-old pitch a fit? Aye-yi-yi. Did you know that just one little indiscretion can undo months of work in less time than it takes to utter the swear-word your kid just picked up? It's not all bad, though, I promise... it's just that I don't feel the need to try to gloss it all over and pretend I have it all figured out. I don't even have 1/1000th of it figured out and I think that's wonderful! I've learned more in the almost three years I've been blessed with the role of Mommy than I did in the twenty-two years that led up to F's arrival. And guess what? I don't ever want to know it all. Some of that shit (literally and figuratively) is too frightening for me.

I have learned patience and perseverance, how to be stand up when I want to lay down and how to ask for help when I need it. I've learned how to enjoy the little things, and how to laugh at the things that make me want to cry. I have learned to appreciate my body, apologize to myself and to stand up for what I want. I've also learned that I have a lot to improve on and how to go about doing so.

Parenting is an awesome thing. The moment you become a parent you are responsible for the health, happiness and care of another human being. You spend every minute of everything shaping that little person into the type of person you want in the world. You are able to sculpt a personality, mold a character and guide an indivual down their path in life. Just make sure you have a strong stomach and access to wine.

Restored

I saw God today.

Yep, that's a bold and dramatic statement, and no, I haven't lost my mind (or what's left of it). I really and truly, honest-to-goodness saw God today. I don't know what He looks like, but what I do know is that the God I believe in manifests in goodness, love and support. He manifests through random acts of kindness and a true sense of community.

Today was an average, ho-hum kind of day. It was also my Mom's birthday and we went out for a delicious brunch. We came home, I did some tidying and reading. I watched a movie with my little guy, My brother's girlfriend had a death in the family, and I had offered to meet her at the bus stop to help her get home. I originally had boots on my feet, but after walking around for a few minutes had decided I'd rather wear my new Toms and break them in. Besides, I was only going to be in the car, right? WRONG.

As we neared the cable-ferry I cross to get to and from the highway, my phone rang. It was my mom, and the sound of panic mixed with relief in her voice was immediately upsetting. "There was just a call on for the Fire Dept. Thank God it's not you. It's a car accident, near the shore. You'd better stop, none of the members have called back in." I got out on the ferry to tell the staff I needed to get across immediately. I had hit the ferry at shift-change, a procedure that takes 10-15 minutes, meaning you sit for that amount of time. They took us across immediately, and let me off ahead of nine other cars. With my caution lights flashing and R in the passenger seat, we were off.

My shoes, post-accident

I pulled up on the scene not knowing what to expect. I had no radio from which to obtain information, but I parked on the side of the road and hopped out. I ran across to see a group of strangers lining the shoulder of the road, an RCMP officer and two of my fellow Fire Department members near a badly demolished truck. That's when I saw the blanket on the ground. I stumbled and slipped down the embankment, wishing I had worn a better pair of shoes as I rolled my ankle and lost my footing. It wasn't until I was up to my ankles in muck - cold, filthy, smelly, gasoline-enhanced muck - that I was really sorry I'd worn these shoes. For a split second, I thought about not going further. For five steps, I tried to avoid the deep, squishy muck. Finally, I gave up. They're fucking shoes, and there's a woman lying on the ground.

As ambulances pulled up, I ran up the embankment to help them with whatever I could. Back down with a backboard, back up for more, back down with more. Up and down and up and down we went, myself and other volunteers - men and women who had been sitting down to their dinners, enjoying time with their families. There were only five people who had to be there, five people who had a duty to the public. Everyone else was there because they wanted to help. How amazing is that?

On my final trip up the embankment, which was slipping away beneath my feet I felt myself go. Shit, I thought as I lost my balance altogether. Before my knees hit the rocks beneath me, two hands grabbed my arms. Strangers. People who had stopped to see if they could help, people who'd stripped their cars of blankets and towels to help the victims of this accident. It was a minor act of kindness to stop me from falling flat on my ass, and yet it moved mountains. Twenty-five, thirty people stood out in the cold mist and darkness for over ninety minutes. Some scanned the ground with small flashlights, some hovering over the victims of the accident, others directing traffic, all working together.

When it was all said and done, not a single person could leave there without saying that was community. That was care and compassion and selflessness. That was God, and this community is blessed. Every time I feel like I'm losing faith in humanity, I can pull the memory of this night - this awful accident - and I can be reminded that there are still people who'd risk it all for their neighbour and that faith in my fellow man will be restored.



The scene from the side of the road, after the removal of the vehicle.

XO


Both accident victims were taken by ambulance, but both were aware and seemed to be doing quite wel, all things consideredl. Less importantly, my shoes were salvageable and are hanging to dry.