The Dutch make old chips

Post Halloween conversation:

Eric:  Can I have a bag of your chips Roan?
Roan:  Oh, sure.  I have a ton of chips.  What kind do you want?
Eric:  What kind do you have?
Roan:  Lots.  Doritos... Old.
Eric/Holly:  Huh?  What?  I think he said Old?  What's old?  He must mean Plain.
Roan (holding) Old Dutch potato chips...Old!
Holly:  Oh Old Dutch! 
Roan:  Oh, Dutch.  I'm pretty sure I have a couple Dutch ones.  So you can have those ones Eric.
Eric:  Thanks dude.

Costume? Party Pooper.

I seem to have lost all interest in Halloween.  Not just this year but for the past few years.  (Granted, two years ago I was really into, but that's only because it fell on a Saturday night so Eric and I trapsed up to Boys Town in Toronto and spent the night with the best group of people to ever celebrate all hallow's eve - the gays!!) 

Lately it just seems like it's used more and more as an excuse for women and girls to dress like pure slutes.  And since my legs are now riddled with cellulite that's not really feasible for me.  I am polite you know, and don't feel it's my place to subject everyone to look at my cottage cheese legs. (I just wish others had this common courtesy.)  I'm also almost always too cold to wear scantidly clad outfits anyway. 

My boys don't even seem to care about it this year either.  And while I'm secretly glad that I won't have to spend a fortune on costumes for them, it almost saddens me that this childhood event isn't still holding strong in their lives.  I'm also a little disappointed that I won't have two candy bags to root through and steal mini chocolate bars from. 

I'm going to try to muster up the strength and excitement to get, at least, Roan into it.  He's ten for crying out loud.  He should be in countdown mode to Trick or Treating.  Not the case.  But having just reread that sentence it has occured to me that it will likely be me having to drag his cold (and mine) whiney butt around the neighbourhood so maybe I'll rethink that. 

It boggles my mind looking through my friend's posts on Facebook just how much people actually look forward to this time of year. I wish I had the energy.  They spend weeks, months even thinking up and creating a costume.  They decorate their houses (inside AND outside)!  They bake goodies shaped like pumpkins, and ghosts which despite my indifference to the holiday, I'd happily eat.  It's so bizarre to me.  I'm just so lazy, the thought alone tires me out. 

So despite my 'blah' feeling towards the night, I wish all the wanna be ghouls and goblins in my life a wonderful Halloween season.  I hope it brings you buttloads of candy and frights galore!!  Just living on Gore Street is enough for me, thanks.

Three to the X to the Squared?

-3x - (-2x) + 4 - 8 + 4x  =  3x - 4

That's the type of math homework Gage came home with today but most of it was harder. (I just can't figure out how to make the little squared numbers and then some...)  I am so pleased to announce that after spending 3 minutes, tops, on that sucker I was able to figure it out and properly explain it to the 14 year old so he understood it too! 

Yeah me!!!  I was doubting my stellar math skills during his last section but alas  my confidence has returned!!

So Far, Yet So Close.

Waiting games are no fun.  And after this spring I've lost most of my faith in our medical system.  I'm trying really hard to push my thoughts to the back of my mind.  At some points during the day I'm successful, at others not so much.   Moments like these I wish I had more optimism.  Sadly, I'm lacking. 

I know as I get older there are going to be more and more times like this that creep into my life.  I hope with experience I'll get used to them.  I highly doubt it though.  I'm almost envious of those people who are estranged from their family.  Maybe after the anger it all just hurts less. 

I'm trying to muster up good thoughts, but I think just ignoring them and pretending it's not happening is easier for my sanity.  I'm still broken.  Not even close to being repaired enough to go through this rollercoaster of emotions again. 

I hope, just like in the far past, that we can slide through these set backs easily.  I love my family.  ALL of them and this makes my heart hurt all over again. 

Please be well.

Anticipation

It's my blog, so I can write what I want. 

There have been many times in the past where I have been sweating and stewing over the impending arrival of my monthly visitor.  Now is not one of those specific types of times, but I have been sweating and stewing over its arrival this month.  I almost  feel like I'm in highschool again.  Though my body reminds me that, alas, I am not.

No, not because I fear I may have been impregnated.  Though that mere thought make my bowels loose.  I've been wishing it to come any time now so that it WON'T join me on my impending Mexico trip with Margie T.  in two weeks!

And ladies and germs, she has arrived!!  Voici! Voila! Whatever!  Now if I can make sure that 'common cold' knows that he and I can't hang until atleast 4 weeks from now, we'll be SUPER!

Black Celebrations

I don't come from a family with oodles and oodles of old traditions on holidays and special days.  Our house was rarely decorated for the holidays.  Maybe Christmas lights, but only if my dad was able to get them out  and up on a relatively mild day in the Fall.  Oh, of course, we had a Christmas tree.  Sorry I assumed that went without saying.  But really that was the extent of it.  Never was my house, growing up, decorated for Valentines Day or Halloween or the likes of those holidays.  So I suppose for that reason I don't find a deep desire to decorate my own house now that I'm an adult nor do I feel the need to create 'special' family traditions of my own.  Looking back, perhaps I've missed out on creating some fantastic memories with my children.  Or maybe they'll just look back on their childhood the same way I do.  I didn't need all that 'stuff' because holidays were just fun for me.  No pomp and circumstance necessary.  They were easy.  We spent the day together.  We laughed, we cried (if we didn't get the right presents), we smiled, we spent time with each other.  That seems to be all that was important to my parents.  And that in turn is all that is really important to me.  All the other 'stuff' is just bonus. 

This year on Father's Day I was compelled to come up with something, anything, to honour my father.  Because we didn't currently have an ongoing tradition on Father's Day we had to think of something new.  I don't know if what I came up with will stay with my mom, brother and sister, but I will carry on and continue to do it every year.  Regardless.  This year we each wrote our own letters to our dad, grandpa, husband and we got together as a family unit, we lit a fire and we each burned our letters.  We didn't read them, we didn't need to.  It wasn't about that.  We burned our letters and sent our words to him.  After, while the letters turned to ash, we had a toast in his memory with a glass of Coca Cola - his poison.  And then we all went home.   I think he would have been okay with that. 

In December we will be approaching what would have been his 62nd birthday.  Funny, and a little off topic, but when I first started in Funeral Services, 62 seemed like an old enough age for someone to die.  Now, not so much.  Anyway, in December we will be facing the anniversary of his birthday.  I hate that every date now regarding him has become an 'anniversary of'.  So I'm trying to think of something for myself and the boys (and my mom and siblings too if they wish) to do to honour him and celebrate him.  Something simple so we won't just casually drop it throughout the coming years because it's too much work.  I also want to come up with something to do the same thing for Christmas.  Something different than what we did for Father's Day.  He deserves at least three different 'traditions' right? 

I have an idea for what I would like to do for Christmas.  Something that all of us can participate in when we gather together on Christmas Day to exchange gifts and break bread.  It's already going to be an emotionally charged day and I'm so grateful for Gage, Roan, Sebastian, and Sawyer because they will keep the joy of Christmas in our hearts this year.  But now I'm struggling to come up with something to do for his birthday.  I don't know if we'll all get together (I doubt we will) on the 20th but I feel the need to do something symoblic so the day doesn't just pass us by.  So it's not just another Tuesday in December. 

It's interesting, all these years we shyed away from traditions, they didn't seem necessary.  But now it's all I can think about.  Like if I have these traditions they will keep him close to me/us.  It's silly but it's a small thing that gets me through the day.

For Eric

Sometimes I'm not the best at showing my true feelings or even saying them with words even though I know you need me to.  I'm flawed.

I know you hate my music with every fibre of your being but I truly believe I could have written this song about you (if I had any talent).  It's not very long, I promise.  And it won't make your ears bleed. So if you want some more insight into my feelings for you, you'll listen to the lyrics. 

I love you Johny Cobra.  And don't fear, I WILL car karaoke it for you.  No problem.

No Regrets!

I learned something about myself today.  When it comes to my dad, I have no regrets.  Sure there are things I wish I had gotten a chance to do with him.  But nothing major or life altering.  Just the wish for more time together. 

There is nothing in my relationship with my father that I look back negatively on and wish things had been different.  Honestly.  I hadn't given it much thought until this morning.  I decided (with the push from my mom) to speak to a bereavement counselor.  My main goal was to talk to her in hopes that she could shed some light and ideas on how I can better counsel or talk to my kids (more importantly Gage) about my dad's death.  She helped in that area, but since we spent two full hours yacking with each other it was inevitable that my own feelings would eventually be discussed.  And in that discussion we I learned that I have no regrets.  And there are few other things, I can truthfully say with conviction, that would make me prouder. 

I know I'm lucky.  I know most people have regrets.  Things they can't go back and change after a death.  It's actually quite common.  I can't remember the last time (or even one in particular) where I got into a fight with my dad.  Not even a true arguement.  Of course I'm an adult so the odds decrease as we get older, but I can't even come up with one from my teen years.  I can think of lots of 'fights' with my parents, but in reality I think it was mainly me and my mom.  He probably just stepped in to side with her. 

I think I've found another thing to hang on to.  I was blessed with a wonderful father but more importantly, a wonderful relationship with my father.  We were comfortable with each other and all the dynamics of what our relationship was comprised of.  He was a good parent and I am starting to believe I have subconsciously chosen to mimic him in my own parenting skills. 

Thanks dad.  You are an amazing man, inspiration and hero.  You will be with me long past my own dying day.  This I will believe.

The Great Escape Artist

Dropped today.  Kind of excited.  Not gonna lie.

Coral!

Me in technicolour!!! 

Man I can't wait to finish my ladies tattoo so I can start my LB mermaid.  I'm jealous of this awesome tattoo and I'm quite pleased that soon enough I'll be sporting one similar (though mine should have smaller tata's)!