Advise me

Kids give great advice.

Some of the best advice I've ever received and the most important life lessons I've ever been taught have come from children, especially my own. It's the little things that as grown ups, we forget or we're too busy for, and it's the things that make all the difference in the world.



Stop. Appreciate your surroundings. Doddle sometimes.

While hanging out with a friend not so very long ago, we got into a discussion about relationships. Her nine-year-old was apparently listening in, and when I said that I often thought about getting back together a little voice piped up with, "isn't it called a break up because it's broken?". And it's true. While I won't pretend to know what the future holds or how things may play out, I've learned the hard way that if it didn't work the first time, a relationship doesn't tend to work the second or the third time around, either. 

So, if it ain't broke don't fix it and it's called a break-up because it's broken. Apply those simple principles to  your relationship and you may find that you created problems where there were none, or you tried to fix something that wasn't fixable.

As we were rushing to get ready one morning, I barked at asked F to put on his jacket, perhaps little more sharply than I should have and he stood there looking at me as I continued to rush about. When I asked him why he wasn't listening, he told me I hadn't said please and he was right. Being late doesn't excuse poor manners, and who better to remind me than the child whom I'm teaching this simple rule. 

And then, I started thinking (dangerous, I know) and I came up with this little list of things that F has taught me recently, and I'd like to share it with you...

1. Hugs do not need an occasion. Hug people you love for no reason, other than that you simply love them. Receiving an unexpected, love-filled hug is the best thing in the world. I know this because it happens to me every. single. day.

2. "I love you" also doesn't need an occasion? Love someone? TELL THEM. Don't put it on Facebook. Don't tweet it. Don't beat around the bush - just say the words. And don't not say it because "they already know". Tell them anyway.

3. Celebrate the little things. F told me I had done a good job when I flushed the toilet this morning. and while it sounds a little bit silly to a grown up, it was important to F to tell me that I had done a good job. I also get "Great job!" or, my personal favourite, "You're the best!" when I make meals, put on our boots or sometimes just run a bath. Thank people for doing the things they do each day, even if it's just emptying the dishwasher.

4. Say what you feel. F tells me when he's upset. In fact, I encourage him to. He says he's happy, or he's sad or he's angry and he says when he doesn't understand or doesn't like something. Can you imagine how much easier life would be if people told one another how they actually felt? My stars! 

5. Be silly. Laughing makes you feel instantly better. If it doesn't, you need a soul because you obviously don't have one. Don't take yourself too seriously all the time. Sure, there's a time and a place for everything but don't forget to take a few minutes to watch a funny cat video or share a joke with a friend or colleague. 

6. If you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all. The words of Thumper's mum are repeated over and over at my house, and I'm as guilty as anyone of breaking this rule. It's extra hard when I preach "say how you feel", but you can say how you feel without making someone else feel badly. And if you don't think you can, that's one time you can keep your feelings to yourself.

7. Slow down sometimes. I often get frustrated when we're walking somewhere and F stops to look at leaves or some other random, inconsequential thing and hurry him along. But it's good to stop and smell the roses coffee. I tell him to hurry up when he's eating, as he takes a bite and then "mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm's" his satisfaction. How often do we shovel food in without appreciating the great flavours? I know I do. I've eaten entire meals without tasting them. Life moves fast enough without us hurrying it along.

Unchanged

It's amazing how quickly things can change.

Back in October, I wrote about my feelings on being adopted. Just a few days later I shared the excitement of knowing my birth mom had happily received my letter. When I first wrote my letter, I didn't really know what to expect. It was emotional, to say the least, and terrifying every step of the way. I anxiously prepared for the worst, and I am thrilled at the way things have turned out.

It's been two weeks now that I've been in constant contact with my Birth Mom (BM), my siblings and one of my uncles and I've never felt so at ease - though the fact that I'm on anti-anxiety medication may play a role in that. It's weird to go from feeling unsure of who you are to feeling complete so suddenly. Learning about the quirks I share with people I've never met has somehow given me and understanding of who I am and the power to become who I really want to be.

It's even more amazing how, in spite of everything that goes on in our lives, that any of us can remain the same.

A few friends have expressed concern that I might suddenly change - or have a total meltdown, which admittedly could happen - as my world begins to catch up to speed in the aftermath of finding my birth mom. By my own admission, I've been hiding in the woodworks for the past week or so just trying to catch my breath and steady myself. But I'm still me. I'm still all of the things I was before.

I'm still a MacInnis - unless I plan to have that expensive, ghastly-scar-leaving tattoo removal - and I will always be a MacInnis. It's kind of like a gang. There's no getting out! (Just kidding - we're so awesome, people keep trying to get into the clan)

In spite of wearing high heels and living in the city, I'm still a rubber-boot wearing girl who snorts when she laughs and prefers beer and lobster over pasta and wine. Well, unless the pasta includes lobster. And I've never turned down wine before.

Although I've been lucky enough to gain a whole new family, I like my old family just fine and they are irreplaceable. People like Mom and Dad, my grandparents, aunts, uncles and some (alright, all) of my cousins are few and far between in this world.

Disclosed

Imagine being 25 years old and hearing your mother's voice for the first time.

I lived that last week and it was as incredible and indescribable as you might imagine. Even more incredible has been learning how much we're alike, from taste in music to favourite wines, the way we drink our coffee and even having similar tattoos. It's been nothing shy of a dream come true. We even look alike.

Communicating with my brothers, my little sister and my uncle has been one of the most amazing experiences I will ever have, falling only behind F's arrival. I can't wait to meet them, hold them and see them face to face. I have played it over and over in my mind my whole life, but now I have images to go with it.

I am the oldest of seven kids, aunt to two nephews and niece to two uncles. Though it has been a bit overwhelming, I feel complete now - at peace, even - that I have this knowledge and this new connection with people who are a part of me. It is still surreal, my excitement is still electrifying and I don't think anyone could beat the smile off my face.

I have lived a very blessed and privileged life... In fact, I have been totally spoiled by two selfless people who have given me all I ever wanted and more (except for that pony, but they did fund many years of riding lessons). While many people live their lives without support - with no family - I am now fortunate enough to have two families of which I am a part of. My son has earned 4 additional uncles and a beautiful aunt, a new grandmother and her husband. He has two new cousins to grow up with.

The process of the adoption disclosure was long and tedious. After two years of waiting, a phone call changed my life. I laid in bed on the weekend F turned three and browsed her photos, fingered the writing on her letter to me... When we connected online last week, the world stopped turning and it's not quite up to speed again. And if things never go back to the way they were, that would be just fine.

From being the fake kid, to being Darlene's daughter I've come to believe that fairy tales do come true.

Forgot

2013 will be my year.

This, my friends, was the decision I came to while wearing my FANTASTIC onesie pyjamas with F on New Years Eve. We went to bed at 10:30pm, snuggled like two little bugs in a rug, and I promised myself that I would make the best of this year for both of us. Did I mentioned we went to bed at 10:30? Yeah. We're wild like that.

Yep. We're that cool.

Last year, for the first time in my life, I really looked inside of myself and I asked how I was feeling. I couldn't answer that question. It was too hard. I didn't want to admit that I was honestly living my life that way - a ghost of who I really could be, muted and pale. I'm not muted and pale. I'm obnoxiously bright, and possibly even neon. Fluorescent neon. I'm going to do that this year. I'm going to be aware of how I feel. I'm going to let the real me shine through.

When I woke up on January 1, I had only five days to get ready to start my "new life". The life where I'm not just Ashley, the Mom. The one where I'm Ashley, the Mom, Student, Public Relations Professional, Writer and Friend. That Ashley. The one that was hiding in there all along. I went to class (sometimes...), went to work every day, came home and did it all again the next day. I packed lunches before bed, cleaned the house and walked the dog. I puttered along - set in my ways of not coming up for air. I made a serious effort to get to know someone, and a great new friendship has emerged.

And it was all fine and dandy until I slowed myself down last night.

I didn't really have a resolution for this year, but if I accidentally made one and didn't proclaim it... well, I broke it already.

I forgot to check in on my own feelings, and January isn't even over yet. I forgot to ask myself if I needed a break or if I was tired. I've been as hard on myself as ever before, and (as per usual) it caught up with me at lightning-speed. It resulted in me sitting in my car in the parking lot sobbing. Otherwise known as the Ashley Meltdown. Oops.

February 2, 2013 will mark the one year date for my separation. We can file for divorce after that. It's a little scary to me, and a little liberating at the same time. I need to put it all behind me, once and for all and I need to be okay with not necessarily feeling like I'm okay every minute of the day.

Implied

...To the Moon & Back

My son and I regularly ask eachother "Do you love me?", and the answer is always the same.

"Yes, I do love you."

I tell him over and over that I love him, and that I always will. I tell him how special he is and how lucky I am to be his Mom. I shower him with hugs and kisses, playful tickles and the occasional scolding. My heart bursts with love and pride every time I look at him. Even now, as I type this, he has kissed both of my arms and my back through the chair. When I thanked him for the kisses, he looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and said "Thank-you for love, Mommy".

It just doesn't get any better than that.

I have vowed to always tell F how much I love him - and I hope he will always feel secure saying "I love you, Mom". If he doesn't say it, will he still love me? Of course, but there's something dangerous about the implied love. My parents love me very much - I know this because they have shown me what unconditional love is for the last twenty-four years, but it's not something we say very often. Infact, when I think about the times my parents have looked at me and said "I love you", I really have to dig deep. It was after a blow-out fight when I was a pre-teen, at graduation, when I left for University, when I was devastated after my break-up last winter. The love has always been there - we just don't say it, and I'm as guilty as they are.

I'm sure they said it all the time when I was a little girl, and I am equally certain that I said it to them all the time as a girl. Why did we stop? Maybe it wasn't cool, or maybe I was embarassed and asked them - I'm not sure. What I do know is that I was positively shocked when I first heard J tell his mom and dad he loved them, and then he kissed them. That doesn't happen at my house - and it hurt a little bit.

It's not just "I love you's" that we skip here. It's the "I'm proud of you" or the "I think you're specials" that we've left unspoken. I can't comprehend a day where I stop telling F those things, because he will always be special and I will always be proud of him. He'll make me furious and I'm sure he'll embarass the Hell out of me more than once, but that's OK. In fact, he's already done both. I believe that's called "payback" (or so my Dad tells me).

I look foward to those big blue eyes looking at me tomorrow, next week and ten years down the road and asking "Do you love me?". We're both going to change a lot, but our answers never will.