She did what?

I went for a pedicure today. Anyone who knows me knows I don’t do that stuff. For a few reasons including my cheapness, lack of funds, and a really severe case of ticklishness.
Anyway. On my way home I texted. No answer. Called husbands’ cell. No answer. Called the house. Breathless “hello?”. I start to worry, in the nanoseconds following about possible reasons for not answering, and why he would sound so out of sorts. Is someone hurt? Did the stairs racing finally end in split lips and broken skulls??? How long will it take me to get there at my current speed? What if I go 20km/hr faster? Why hadn’t I just stayed home??
After those three nanoseconds go by, I hear it. The reason for his delay. The cause of all this ruckus.
she bit her brother. My sweet, innocent, loving baby girl, took a decent chunk out of my baby boys already very lean back.
I can’t stop laughing!!!!!!
It’s a wildly inappropriate reaction to her brother not giving up the beloved toy she wanted, and was appropriately disciplined, but it’s just too funny!
The poor boy doesn’t have enough fat on him to spare any for her semi-cannibal personality.
She will be three next month. We call her Denis the menace in a dress. But she’s ramping it up. I’m a little scared. Perhaps it’s time for those dog suits. 😉

Mothers’ pride

The tree is up. It is somewhat lopsided, and sitting in a very awkward spot. But it’s up. I don’t know why I doubt myself.
We also took my five year old to the food bank today, to give his money to them. He raised $60.85. I am so proud I could burst. He’s such a good kid!! How did I get so lucky?!?!
I followed my feel good afternoon with a Latin Groove class and I’m feeling good.
20 days til Santa!!

Oh Christmas Tree

When do you put up your tree? Us Canucks celebrate thanksgiving early so it’s a little sad to put up the tree in early November. I keep telling the folks at Walmart that their displays are also too early (November 1st!!). They remind me Costco has been at it since August.
When it was just hubby and I, and even just us and the boy, we did it end of Movember-I mean November (sorry-I’m still recovering from the trauma). But it’s the first week of December and I don’t know how to fit it in without just doing it myself. I have oodles of hours during the day when I could stop pinning on virtual boards and decorate but the boy would miss out. And three hours after school is not enough time is it? I swear I spend every afternoon trying to carve out time to spend with the boy. But if you’ve ever seen the girl….well it’s just not an attainable goal when you are constantly overseeing Denis the Menace in a dress. Actually, it’s more Denis the Menace in the buff. She is an exhibitionist. *cough* understatement *cough*

But I digress.
How do you find the time to do the traditions and keep up with the busy pace of life?

Tomorrow we will try. Ill let you know how it goes.

I’ve got Santa’s email address

I just did it. I said “A****, Santa is watching and he’s making notes about whether you are good or bad.”
“How mommy?” He asks.
“He emails me. It’s a lot of magic, and a little email”

This is why I had kids. It’s what I knew in the core of my being before I was ever old enough to really consider having children. I was put on this earth to be their mama. I love this job!! I don’t like all the extras that seem to bog me down, like running a household, working on a marriage every G** D*** day but in a brief (and I mean brief) moment of clarity the scales balance out for me.
These two beautiful beings, with their quirks and idiosyncrasies and mind boggling questions, are the reason I breathe. They are the simple explanation as to why I didn’t drive my car into a tree three months ago in a moment of “I just can’t do this anymore”. How can you NOT do everything in your power to make yourself the best possible parent to these wonderful little monsters?
They don’t cringe anymore. I think I’m making progress. I was scared of my dad and I saw the same thing happening at home and it drove me to reach out and fix what is broken.
I just didn’t anticipate how difficult it would be. But that’s ok!! I like a challenge.
I had a chat with dear old hubby last night. After much discussion, he is back in my good books and thankfully not moving out, and going to go see someone with me. We want to learn how to resolve conflict better. I feel empowered again. If only because the delicate balance of my life is where it needs to be for now.
Today I’m back to the grind. Being active again has been wonderful. I’m ramping it up again this week to move past a plateau I’ve hit.
Spin class this morning, Pilates tonight, Latin groove tomorrow, spin/Pilates Thursday, and a treadmill/bike session on Friday evening. Saturday will be a rest day.
I’ve decided to cut out eating after supper and no booze during the week.
Time to refocus and get my brain on straight and life back in order. Christmas will not suck this year!!!!!

Have a good day!

Listening skills

Part of the deal with my new medicine is that it not only makes you nauseous and tired, it takes six weeks to feel any mood changes. While I am sure they know what they are talking about, and I’m definitely no happier than I was last week, my tired/sick zombie like trance I’ve been living in has cut down on the yelling.
But it has also made very clear that I’m not the only yeller. Dad does too, obviously to a much lesser extent than bat-shit crazy ol me, but we are repeating our parents patterns and dictating. And yelling. And the kicker is he is ALWAYS telling me that I’m doing something wrong. All I can think of (and giggle about) is MY HOW THE MIGHTY HAVE FALLEN!!!! (Yes I’m lame. I know.)
Anyway. A perk to being tired and sick, is that I don’t have any desire to create conflict. So I brought up the yelling, told him to quit it, and he said sorry and I said I understood his frustration. Hey! Breakthrough! Communication is absolutely broken in our house, and this was one small step. Yay!!!
Now-back to TLC and all that wonderful screwed up drama.
Night folks
Ash

Just another minute mommy

One of the biggest wake up calls, and ultimately the trigger to asking for help, was my kids. One would cry, one would cringe, all because my insane need to release meant I was always yelling. Always. And not good stuff. Not even borderline stuff. I was mean. I AM mean. I don’t like it, but I’m not the mom I should be. That I was.
Today I challenged myself not to Yell at all. I didn’t make it through the morning. But I was aware and reaffirmed te challenge and forced myself to remember that my kids are just kids and maybe I’m expecting too much of them. Don’t get me wrong, we are hard on our kids, in that we hold them to standards of behavior we know they can achieve because they’ve done it, and when they slip we let them know-through discipline and coaching and positive reinforcement. But as of late I’ve taken to screaming-because a toddler isn’t moving fast enough or the kindergartener is being defiant.
I forget that these are all moments for them to learn. That in driving me bananas they learn things I couldn’t possibly teach them.
And sometimes a tired two year old just isn’t going to walk anywhere. So I shouldn’t expect it, and I should pick her up and cuddle and carry her. Soon she’ll be too big for it.
So today, after resolving to hold more and yell less I think I did ok. The day isn’t over yet, but its been a good morning of effort. I can at least smile about that.
And when that tired two year old falls asleep in the car, I park in the driveway and drink my coffee-like right now-and listen to her little breaths, and her wee snore, and look at those mile long lashes, and see why I’m trying so hard. Who could give up when this beautiful baby girl is the reason for living?

Seriously….

You know what makes adjusting to weird pills much more fun????? The flu. Yep. That’s right bitchez I am rocking a fever, aches, chills and a healthy dose of crazy. Why? Just to prove that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. And maybe crankier. Like a lot crankier.
Tomorrow is another day-and I will whoop its ass. Yep! I hope…

One Giant Leap

I left this update from my last post for a few days, sort of deciding how-or if-I was to make this public. My FB page is a fun place-so not there. Twitter is for my cynic, sarcastic moments, and honestly it’s not any big thing for me anyway. But here, here is where I come to vent, process, and heal.
So here we go.
I went to my doctor-he is on sabbatical, getting his masters in education. I’m sure this marks his 42nd degree and I doubt he is more than 40. I’m very very happy for him and reassured that I’m a luckily girl as he has cared for me and my kids well. But that means I got a new doctor. Dr S. She is good. But she is also my age and a rather obvious reminder of my state of mind and its need for an adjustment. Briefly while talking to her I felt like maybe I had not accomplished as much because I hadn’t been to med school. I am a server and bartender and as the cold air comes my days of even being employed are numbered. She did nothing but validate me, what I was saying, and express her joy over my two children. A new mother herself, SHE congratulated ME. Isn’t that something?? I am so upside down that I am forgetting just how very damn lucky I am. And just how much I’ve accomplished. It’s been a whirlwind the last ten years, and when you think about it objectively I suppose it can be said that I’ve done a lot. Or gone through a lot. War, death, life, births, love, and the in betweens. But I don’t like to think about it, and I doubt I made any real impact on anything outside of my home-but that’s not to say my impact here in my home hasn’t been substantial.
I don’t know if that makes sense.
Anyway. It took me four days to work up the courage to go to the pharmacy and fill my prescription and this morning I started on an anti-depressant. I am ashamed. I feel, however incorrectly, like I failed somehow. The stigma of mental illness is alive and well and it’s maddening. I have held hands of people battling this, and donated, supported, and made sure I was informed. I am an advocate!! But I can’t do it all on my own, and because of pride, and stubbornness, and some serious delusions about women doing it all and doing it well and not needing anyone, I hate myself a bit. For being a hypocrite. For not holding myself up as important enough to deserve support and deserve happiness, but that others do. What example does that set for my daughter?? That she should help everyone and disregard herself? And my son, that he shouldn’t have to scoop up his girlfriend or wife and make her remember she is as important as anyone else?
We women, as feminist as we can be, may be setting the movement back a bit, mixing messages. Being independent and having parity in the workplace and having equal rights is what we want, but somehow I think maybe the message got mixed up and we feel we need to do it all and be it all in order to deserve the level playing field. Which is ridiculous. Because I know many a middle aged man having crisis after crisis because he can’t manage his own life and is walking around like a HOT MESS. Thankyouverymuch.
This self inflicted pressure we put on ourselves-to be thin instead of fit, well balanced instead of being everything to everyone and only giving 10% to anyone, to be smiling, even if you want to cry, must stop. Taking a pill shouldn’t be a reflection of what one CANT DO. It should be, and is-if you look objectively-a reflection of someone treating themselves with the same respect we would expect, and it’s about damn time the world understood and took note. I am a good mother, I work hard to do well in my job and my life and I will be better through my actions and through my choice to ask for help, and no pill changes my value or yours. Or the person down the street or at the market. I am right here. I won’t fall down and lay there and die, and having depression doesn’t mean that I’m not going to be ok.
I might be crazier than a road lizard, but my big step for me, could be a giant leap for someone afraid to get help.
Just sayin.

That old familiar feeling

“It’s funny how that old familiar feeling we so easily slip back into isn’t always a good one. Comfort doesn’t necessarily mean safety, or positivity, or health-it’s just easy.”

Usually when someone thinks of a familiar feeling, they’re stuck in the middle of a country love song. Arms being wrapped around you, sweet feelings of romance blah blah blah. Normally I love these songs. Not so much lately. MY old familiar feeling is darker than that. It’s sadder than that. It certainly seems to be doing more damage. My poor kids. How awful to realize your quiet demon is hurting your babies. The slow detachment from your life-and the things you love the most-is suddenly brought into focus in yet another harsh moment when you could have used kindness, but instead got mad. I never wanted to be a “yeller”. I didn’t want to be a crier either. But I spend more nights than is comfortably admitted drowning out my sobs while the bath water runs and when the tub is full crying so hard no air comes out. this is no life for me. For anyone. I want more. I have been responsible for a good portion of the deterioration of my marriage, the reactions in my children, and I am fully responsible for my physical well being and the lack of care for it.
Tomorrow I’m asking for help. Again. But they will listen this time. I will make myself heard. I want to be better more than I want this black hole I’m in. The tug of war going on inside me is exhausting.
One of the smartest women i know once posted something about how you should never assume the smile you see isn’t hiding a battle going on inside. You don’t know what’s going on behind people’s eyes. We are masters of our disguises. Please find some compassion for the person on the street who greets you, and says hello or smiles and nods your way. It could have taken a lot of effort, and you could be the one who shows them there is life on this planet after all.
My mom had cancer and an episode I had this weekend that ended me in the ER rings eerily true to hers. Off I go tomorrow to rule out what my family is so scared of. I know I don’t have a brain tumor. I just need to prove to them. History won’t repeat here. Not in my body-not in my life.

Interesting week.

It is nothing if not interesting around here. Sometimes that’s good. Sometimes not so much.
On Wednesday we buried someone very important to us. He passed away a few months ago, but his loss is still felt daily and while I suppose these rituals are designed to bring closure, I didn’t get that. Just the re-opening of a wound.
That man loved my babies, so in a way the following update is fitting in that we got the news the same day as his internment.
Baby girl is fine. No longer under a doctors care for FTT, and happily chugging along. She’s still little, and will likely always be on the small side, but her progress, however slow in comparison to others, is a vast improvement from before, and it’s nice to be following the milestones like all the other mamas. She’s talking back with attitude. And I understand every word. He would be thrilled. Rest in peace dear man.

We are done junior kindergarten. One year done, 13 more to go. So proud of everything the wee man has accomplished, and how far he has come. Summer is on its way and I’m excited to see what’s ahead. I seem to be working a lot lately, but we’ve pulled a camping trip together for the Canada day long weekend. Long overdue time with the family. Funny how quickly the priorities get sorted when you are pulled in so many directions.
Cheers for now!