Father's Day

Tomorrow is Father's Day.

Yaaaaaaaaaaaay. Not.

I'm not a huge fan of the parent-themed holidays, to be honest.  Mother's Day makes me feel almost as miserable as Father's Day and misery isn't exactly a fun state to find oneself in. 

This will be the third Father's Day that F's father hasn't been around. He's missed seventy five per cent of Father's Days in his son's life. It's a thought that should make me furious, but it doesn't. It makes me really, really sad. F doesn't deserve that.

This will be the third Father's Day in F's little life that I've worried about my son not having a man to look up to. I worry that he doesn't have a man to walk with him through the ups and downs of life, and while I try my best I know I can't replace that male influence. 

He once asked me to show him how to stand up to pee and that just ain't gonna happen.

As F and Little play out in the living room, I hear Little talk about how his Dad will be back in a few days and F says "Well, *my* Dad will be back in a few days, too!" and I know that we'll have to have that conversation again.

The one where F asks when his Dad is coming home.

The one where I explain that he might never come back. The one where I have to tell F that I just don't know. The one that leaves us both in tears, with an aching heart. The one I never wanted to have, and yet the one that I have regularly now. The one that I will have more and more as he grows up and realizes that our family doesn't look like his friends' families. 

And for all the sadness I feel, I feel so much love and joy and appreciation that both F and I have my Dad. We have Uncle Allan and Uncle Buddy. There's Uncle Nelson and Uncle Johnny, Uncle Gordon and Uncle George. We have Uncle David and Uncle Edwin. We have my brother, Devin, and my friend Evan. 

Although we lost F's Dad, we have many strong, wonderful men in our lives and I hope they all feel a little bit of our love tomorrow. XO

Christmastime

It's supposed to be the happiest time of the year, and in a lot of ways it still is.

Two short - and yet very long - years ago, J and I were gearing up to spend our first night in our new home. Young newlyweds with a toddler, we were the picture of a happy little family. As we put the finishing touches on the walls and swept up the last of the dust leftover from construction, we discussed all the extra space in F's room for a crib - if we were lucky enough to have a second. We couldn't wait to host our family and friends for a Christmas celebration in the upcoming evening. I never imagined then that it just be F and I from there on out, but so it is. 

Christmas is so heavily wrapped in tradition for many families that it brings a sense of loss and sadness when the holiday rolls around. Five years ago, there would be as many as 20 people sitting around my Nanny's dining room table for Christmas Day dinner. This year, there will be 10. The emptiness fills the room, and there's a precarious mixture of reminiscing and avoiding mention of loved ones now gone. 

But Christmas is a time of new beginnings, right at its core: the arrival of the baby Jesus. It's a celebration of the magic of love. While I enjoyed seeing F's eyes widen at the sight of what Santa brought him and the smiles of family members as they unwrapped their gifts, I'm mostly relishing in the opportunity to just be. Just sit with F and watch snow fall. Laying on the couch watching movies with Dad. Laughing at YouTube videos with Mom. Sitting around the table with food and drink and just feeling the warmth of family, friendship and love.

In spite of the pangs of sadness that have an amazing ability to sneak up on me, I'm filled with the joy and magic of the Christmas spirit, not because it's easy but because it's the decision I have made. Wherever you are, I pray you have a safe and happy holiday. Hug your loved ones, call a friend, spread some Christmas cheer!

And if you still feel sad, watch this video. 

Merry Christmas! 

best, love and smiles, ashley & family

Unbroken Family

Last week, someone "kindly" forwarded a link to my email.
(catch that? it's called sarcasm and i am dripping with it today)

The name of the article that the link was for was "How to Survive the Holidays as a Broken Family". I have an issue with the term "broken family" - though, admittedly, not nearly as big an issue as I have with the fact that someone felt it was necessary to send me that bullshit link. In case you're wondering, a "broken family" is defined as a family where parents are separated or divorced, but I'm still not really feelin' it. A "broken home" essentially mirrors that statement, except it's a house with a broken family living inside of it.

My family is not broken. It is not defective. It might not look like yours, but it's made of the exact. same. stuff. 

I had a broken family when I had a husband who didn't help me raise our child. I had a broken home when a truck meant more than a marriage, and when fun with friends was more important than family. I had a broken life when my heart ached because my relationship was empty and my dreams were in the dark. I don't have those things any more, and my son does not come from a "broken home". He comes from a home that's filled with love and support and he has a family that loves and cares about him more than anything else in the world. He might not have someone in the house who he calls "Dad", but he's got a group of great men to look up to, each of whom is more than willing to lend a hand along the way.

Terms like "broken" serves only to tell our kids that there's something wrong with their home. Their family is "bad", it's not right. It's broken, like a toy that needs to be thrown away. Isn't being a kid in a situation with only one parent hard enough, without society telling him or her that their family is wrong? Isn't being a kid in the society we're in hard enough? I know as an adult that hearing terms like "broken family" or "broken home" make me feel badly about my life, and it's bullshit because my life is pretty awesome, and perfectly imperfect in its one-piecedness.

Does it suck that my family falls into the category of "broken"? No. Sure, I didn't plan on being a single parent but I'd way rather raise F alone than be miserable in a relationship where I felt just that - alone. My kid is a Hell of a lot better off having a parent who is genuinely happy than he would have been with two parents who weren't.

Families, like the people they are made up of, are unique. I explain this to F all the time. Some families have brothers or sisters, some have brothers and sisters. Some have no children, some have one child and others have all kinds of children. Sometimes they're different colours. Some families have one mom or two moms, two dads, one dad or a mom and a dad. But for all the differences, families are the exact same because they're made of love, whether they are nuclear, blended, upside down, purple, green, single-parented and triple-childed. 

And every family has hiccups and crazy Holiday stuff to deal with.

THE END.

The Happiest of Hallowe'ens

Two posts in one day! Yay for you, my beloved readers!

F didn't want to trick-or-treat last night (he decided this on Wednesday after his Halloween party at preschool), so we decided to lay low - thank goodness! I was up before 5 am to bake a blueberry croissant puff for our office Hallowe'en breakfast AND I wore a tutu and my excitement over this really took a lot out of me. That and F was a real ghoul all day and I had to carry him kicking and screaming into his daycare provider's home, where she then had to peel him off of me so I could actually go to work.

Sigh. Parenthood is so, so, SO unglamorous - even when you're wearing a tutu.

I got the idea in my head about halfway through making my tutu last weekend that I should start making them and selling them. One of my good friends pointed out that I'm probably the only adult who'd be into wearing tutus every day, but there may just be a market for little ones. We'll see where that goes. I really enjoyed making this one!

I think it turned out pretty well and I was especially impressed with my hair - considering it was day 3, after sleeping on it two nights in a row and I managed it at 5:30 am in only a few minutes. Hooray me. It was significantly less pretty this morning when I woke up on day 4, with a bird's nest that an osprey could have homed in.

Here's a couple of photos of my get-up!

The tutu, before tights!

My hair!

Legs and nude heels!

In my old pointe shoes!

Hair - from the front!

I realized yesterday, while standing in my office lunchroom just how amazing the people I work with are. I had the warm and fuzzies all day, after laughing and sharing in some good times with everyone. The awesomeness of the day was only improved by snuggling with F last night while we watched the Magic School Bus in bed! I somehow doubt this is how we'll be spending our next Hallowe'en.

Happy November, friends!

Resolve

What will you do differently in 2013?

As 2012 wraps up, I find this question wiggling out of the woodworks and tripping me as I walk down my little path of life. What will I vow to work on in the upcoming year? Healthier eating? More meditating? Better work ethic? Less stress?

The answer is nothing, and yet it's also everything.

I'm not going to have a new year's resolution for the first time in as long as I can remember. In this past year I've realised that I don't need a new year to start fresh, just a new attitude and a little fuel in my tank. The rest of your life starts whenever you want it to, so why put a date on it?

If you are planning a resolution for your new year, whatever it may be, remember to factor in room for error. Everything in life has a learning curve, and we all start at a different place. If it's losing twenty pounds, don't expect to see them gone before January 31. Start small, be positive and enjoy the ride.

Happy New Year!

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.

Christmas-y

Christmas is supposed to be the happiest time of year.

It doesn't seem like long ago that it really was the happiest time of the year for me. Excitement and magic filled the air, and the anticipation of Santa's arrival was almost too much to bear. My baby brother and I would sleep in his bedroom on Christmas eve and then wait (albeit impatiently) at the top of the stairs on Christmas morning for Mom to wind up the camera and take a photo of us in our PJs before we rushed in to see what Santa had left for us.

After opening our stockings and having a cup of tea, we'd wait until 7:00am to call Nanny and Papa next door to tell them we were up and ready to open our presents. It was tradition, and I loved it.

Now, though, Christmas just doesn't hold the same wonder. I've filled it with financial stress and worry, rushing through the motions, trying to remember where I stashed the presents for Mom and F, and of course making sure everything is just right. By the time Christmas day arrives, I can't wait for it to be over and that makes me just a little sad.

It's during this season of merriment and cheer that I find myself missing Papa the most. I miss his laugh, his mischevious grin and the way he talked about salt herring (his favourite meal) while sipping his Canadian Club and 7-Up at the Christmas dinner table. I miss my great-aunt Mayme and her husband, Doug, who always chimed in that turkey dinner was his favourite. This year, I'll miss J too. We spent the last four Christmases together, and this is just another "first" to get through without him.

I'm trying hard to get into the Christmas-y spirit and help F get excited. He has some idea about toys under the Christmas tree, but he's not totally into it yet. I have the NORAD Santa Tracker open on the computer, and we'll make some Gingerbread men later today. The Christmas tree in Mom's living room is beautiful, with gifts piled up and around it. Everything is decorated, and there's even a little bit of snow on the ground - just enough for "Santa to rest his runners on". 

Tonight, I'll read in church and we'll come home and share the story of the Night Before Christmas, just like always. We'll open the rum and the wine and we'll all sit around the living room and I'll bask in the joy and love of being close to family, even if it's a little bittersweet.

I'm hoping the candlelit church service and snowflakes in the air can bring the Christmas spirit into my heart tonight, but I'm willing to bet the excitement dancing in F's eyes when he sees all the toys in his stocking tomorrow will inspire nothing shy of a Christmas miracle for this girl.

Breakfast Cake

Yesterday, F and I had birthday cake for breakfast.

I'm not sure who enjoyed it more, to be honest. Probably F, since it's still totally new and exciting to him that you could possibly ever eat something beside Cheerios and eggs at breakfast time. If we're being honest, I've eaten many a non-breakfast food for breakfast (beer included). We ate our breakfast cake in my bedroom, he standing at the nightstand and me laying in bed. Between great-big-honkin' spoonfuls, he looked at me and said "I'm so happy you're home. I love cake for breaksbist."

I'm not sure if that was the exact moment or if it was the ten minutes we spent hugging and looking at eachother the night before that did me in, but I melted. He's just so fantastic. Being away from him has been so hard. Even though he's not quite three, F is showing a level of understanding beyond what I could have ever imagined. He told me that I was away so I could buy him more toys, which is partially true: I'm away so I can give him more everything.If it weren't for my family, I wouldn't have the opportunity to do this for F and I. It's the greatest gift ever.

Down the hall from mine, Mom's room is piled high with gifts, each wrapped perfectly with love and care. I haven't wrapped my gifts to my family yet. Nothing seems big enough or good enough. I can't imagine every finding something big enough or good enough to give to my parents. They've given me everything, and I'm doing my best to one-up my gift from the year before every year. (Spoiler alert: Next year, I'm going to try to buy an Island. Wish me luck!)

As a society, we've forgotten the true meaning of Christmas. It's lost in the stores filled with toys and expensive jewelry. Christmas is a time for family, friends and love. It's a time to share, reflect and be thankful for all we have. I've vowed to spend every moment in positivity and love for the next two days. I'll eat cake for breakfast, pour myself a bigger glass of wine and I'll let the poor manners and occasional snarky comment from F roll. I'm going to enjoy every minute.

And I'm going to savour the look on my Mom's face when she sees what I got her for Christmas!