Leaps and Bounds

In only two short weeks, I am embarking on a whole new journey in my life.

I'm going back to school, as a single mom. Leaving my son with my parents.

And guess what? I am scared shitless.

If you haven't read Standing Up, you might want to do so to fully understand my situation. I shared my displeasure at being called a bad mom for trying to make my life, and in turn my son's life, a Hell of a lot better, but I also gave some insight into the fear I hold in my heart as I stare into the unknown. It's daunting, to say the least.

If it was simply a matter of leaving Finn with my parents, it would be a simple matter. I'd see him on weekends, he'd come visit me every couple of weeks and all would be well. But, there's a lot more to the picture than just that.

You see, I actually have a life here. I'm involved in my community, and I love this community. If I was willing to give up my dreams and settle, I'd never leave here... and sometimes, that's really tempting. This community is one in a million. A year ago, we were celebrated by the Lieutenant Governor for the province's Community Spirit Award. As an active member of the community and also several of the community's organizations, I received this award. It was the third time I received an award of this honour.

When I accepted my seat in school, I also had to accept that this meant a lot of sacrifices, beginning with being separated from Finn for 5 days a week. I also had to give up my position as Secretary and elected member of the St. Ann's Bay Health Group Society - but not just that. In addition to my position as secretary, I also cooked lunch for seniors every Wednesday. I founded and ran a youth group. I also created a wellness program focusing on easy ways to make your life healthier and happier. All of that went into the box of things I had to leave behind.

Devin and I, testing out our new turnouts!

Next, my position as Medical First Responder on the North Shore & District Fire Department, where I am a third generation member (AND I get to drive a firetruck - how cool is that?) along with my kid brother. We gear up next to my dad, uncle, cousins and neighbours. I'm the head of the Ways and Means committee, aka fundraiser, and a member of the Fire Department executive committee. I also took care of renting the fire hall.






After that is my involvement with the church - which, sadly, was the easiest for me to give up as my minister just retired. This woman shaped my faith and watched and helped me grow.

A lot of my identity is engrained in my involvement here in the community. I'm a volunteer, a fundraiser, a role model... am I really ready to give it all up? It's a hard question for me to face, and even harder for me to answer. Why? Because the answer is yes... and no.

I'm not ready to give up my identity. Even if I move away, I'm still a volunteer fire fighter. I'm still a Medical First Responder - I have Health Care Professional training that I will carry with me everywhere, up and down the highway, across the province. I might not be Secretary of the SABHGS any more, but I'm still involved - I'm turning that wellness program I spent hours on into a blog and newsletter for the winter. These things make me, well, me!

There are times when taking baby steps was all I could do to get by, but right now I need to throw myself into my future. Get out there and make things happen, because the truth is... no one else can do that for me. So here I go, with my Big Girl Shoes on!

Sunday Funday?

There are a handful of things I really love in the world: my family, my dog and good coffee are at the top of this list. I have been excited to share this post for the past four hours - yep, four hours. I just wanted to go back to sleep first. I haven't had excitement like this on a Sunday morning since I was in university.

Daisy is a one-year-old Beagle. She's got big floppy ears, double dew claws and freckles on her legs and belly. I fell in love with her the minute I laid eyes on her, and so I handed over a good chunk of change to the breeder, wrapped her up in my arms and took her home to be our family pet. Finley absolutely adores her, and she him. All-in-all, she's a super dog. She only has one flaw: She is afraid of everything.

Neither one looks particularly bright, but Daisy is the one eyeing the camera. She was probably afraid.

I've mentioned before that she thinks her shadow - we can now add reflection to this one - is an entirely different entity, she's terrified of her own bark (and has only barked  twice in her life), and today I learned, she is going to be totally useless if something should go bump in the night. Some protector - this is where that dog shaming site comes into play, isn't it?

My brother, aka Uncle D, is one of my favourite people in the world. He is funny, clumbsy and even though he makes a lot of stupid decisions and statements, he has the biggest heart ever. Really. He works in road construction, and so every morning I wake up and grumble at the fact I have to listen to my dad wake him up - yay, staying with my parents until school starts. This morning, however, I couldn't stop laughing.

The noisemaker, himself.

 

Before F was even a thought, I "rescued" a kitten. It was sick, and the veterinary office didn't even want me to bring it in incase it was contagious, and then quoted me a ridiculous amount of money to save it. I'm stubborn (and I was not paying that kind of money), so I bought baby formula and fed that to the kitten. That kitten now weighs some 20 pounds and is the most annoying animal ever. Rodney - affectionately named after the Premier of Nova Scotia at the time - is not the brightest creature to ever grace the planet. He is obsessed with food. OBSESSED. He's also a real liability, it seems.

At 5:34AM, I was peacefully asleep in bed. Daisy was sleeping at the foot of the bed, probably snoring because that's what she does. All of a sudden, the loudest bing-bang-boom I've ever heard at 5:34AM crashed through the house and woke me up. I sat up with a shot, only to be mowed over by Daisy in her effort to hide under the blankets. Really, Daisy?

All manner of emergencies went through my head in the next 10 seconds: earthquake, plane crash, meteor hit the house, Godzilla, Zombies. Then I heard my Dad call down the hallway, "D, are you OK?"

I got up then, admittedly relieved that there were no Zombies waiting to feed on my little brain, flicked on the hallway light and saw the bathroom door half closed. I tried to open it but couldn't, and when I forced it a little, I heard a groan.

"Did he faint? Did he fall asleep standing up and peeing? Is he OK? Are his pants up?"

Mom got up then too, F stayed asleep. We all stood worrying in the hallway. The other two dogs (yes, we have a zoo in our home) came to check it all out. Daisy was still hiding. Dad and I forced the door open and there was D - pants up, thank goodness - laying on the floor holding his head.

"I tripped over the cat."

 

Being a Medical First Responder, I took a look at his noggin and sure enough, he had an egg coming out. Good sign - "better out than in" is applicable to the human body in many ways. Aside from a pounding headache, he was OK. So I started to laugh.

 

And laugh.

 

And laugh.

 

And then I knew, I had to share it. It was just too good! 19-year-old trips over 20-lb feline, hits head, wakes whole house and scares the beejezus out of the dog.

 

Daisy, as it were, had to go outside to pee after the fright she got. I laid in bed laughing for quite some time. Dad cursed the cat. D took some advil - and no damn wonder, he's not a big guy but when he falls he makes one monumental crash.

 

Dad told me when I was making my coffee this morning, four hours post-chaos, that D's hardhat was hurting him because of the egg on his head. I suggested that D start wearing the hardhat when he gets up in the morning from now on.

 

Happy Sunday!