The Other F Word

Eric and I watched a documentary the other night called "The Other F Word", and it's about old punkers we grew up listening to who are now Fathers (spoiler alert, that's the other F word).  It was genuinely endearing and I would highly recommend a watching.  But in an interview with Flea of the Red Hot Chili Peppers he made a comment (which also made him cry, d'aw) that kind of blew my mind (it doesn't take much, seriously).  He said (and I'm ad libbing as I'm doing it from memory), 'There's a saying that parents often yell at/to their children along the lines of "I gave you life...blah, blah, blah".  But I feel quite the opposite.  My kids gave me life.  Without them I am nothing.'  Whoa.  Who knew Flea was such a softy? 

Seriously though, I'm notorious for preaching to people the importance of picking your battles, thus treating your kids the way you, yourself, want and expect to be treated.  I think it's easier to tear a child down than to build them up.  And as humans we tend to resort to the easiest route.  I'm doing my damnedest to try to build my kids up.  Sometimes at the chagrin of other adults around me, but whatever, they're my kids and I need to be able to sleep at night knowing I've treated them well.  Don't get me wrong if they need a proper tearing down, I'll be the first one leading the troops in to do just that.  I just think sometimes parents take their kids for granted and that makes me sad.  So it was super nice to hear Flea sum up his feelings the way he did.  I feel the same.  My kids are my everything even if they don't always believe it.

Virtual Valentines

If you're a fan of Arrested Development you'll love these cards I stumbled across on Marisa Seguin's blog that she designed for Valentines Day.  So for the week leading up to Valentine's Day I posted one on Eric's Facebook page daily.  Here are quick snaps of the cards I posted leading up to the actual day holding back one in particular I planned to post on the actual VD. 

 

So not to be outdone Eric created his own virtual card for me using a couple stock photos he found online and a lovely poem he penned himself.   He's quite talented I will say.  And based on his blog post it turned out to be more difficult than he had imagined. 

 

So after swooning over those charming words of love I followed up with the final card:

His response, internet world?  "No fucking way."  So we shall continue to live on in sin.  I'm a lucky girl - dodged a bullet there!! 

Happy Valentines Day everyone (for what it's worth).  Love yourself first and then those around you. 



Me and Margie T.

"We have to be able to grow up.  Our wrinkles are our medals of the passage of life. They are what we have been through and who we want to be."  - Lauren Hutton

When I was 15 years old, I had the luck of meeting an amazing human being, and 23 years later I am still honoured to call her my friend.  A best friend.  She's not amazing to the masses - she's not famous or anything deemed by society to be awesome, but to those who know her, she's pretty rad.  I have so many memories that include her through the years, both good and bad.  But even during the not so great memories, she was a shining pillar in the darkness. 

She has shared in my triumphs, both loudly and stoically cheering me on.  She has tolerated my absences and whether she agreed or not she accepted my excuses.  She has cried with me during devastating losses and sometimes she just silently held me while I cried.   She has laughed hysterically with me, often at other people's expenses but sometimes even at our own.  She's stood up for me when other's have brought me down.   She knows me inside and out even if we don't spend nearly enough time together.  She still gets me after all these years.   We have done just about everything with each other at some point in time.  And I am eternally grateful that I have been able to share two centuries decades (Oops, thanks Tanya) of my life with her. 

So the very best wishes to my girl Margie on her birthday.  I know we'll share and experience so much more in our lives together and I'm so grateful to be able to call you my friend.  I hope only the best things come your way and I look forward to the days when we are both old, grey and wrinkled. 

Love you to the moon and back!  Someday when the pages of my life end, I know that you will be one of the greatest chapters. 

Roanisms at Christmas

So on Christmas Eve night around 11 p.m. Eric and I brought Roan's "Santa" loot downstairs and placed it out in the living room so we could get some sleep before he woke us up at the crack of dawn to open gifts. 
At some point between midnight and 1 a.m. I heard the pitter patter of little feet and thought at first it might just be the cats.  After a period of time I emerged from my bed to find an 11 year old laying in the hallway with one of the cats.  I instructed him he needed to get to bed.  After trying to convince me that there was just no point as he was too excited and couldn't sleep he conceded and headed to his room. 

At 4 a.m. I awoke to a quiet singing by said 11 year old.  So after wandering downstairs and meeting up with him in the hallway I told him (albeit through grinding teeth) to get his ass in bed as it was only 4 a.m. and no one was ready to get up yet (oh I'm so foolish). 

An hour passes and again I hear the soft singing from downstairs.  This time I was too exhausted to care so I left him to his own devices.  Not sure what he was doing. 

At 8 a.m. I awoke and went venturing through the house.  Roan was passed out cold on his bed and only silence emerged from Gage's nook.  I wandered into the living room to find that maybe there was in fact a Santy Claus as ALL of the Halo lego we had put out at 11 p.m. the eve before had been opened and completely put together.  And the most magical part of all?  The garbage and packaging were no where to be found, cleaned right up!!  Looks like my little 11 year old had a full night of building Legos. 

I actually had to go wake up Eric so he could see what Roan had been up to all night before the actual little labourer woke up.  Thanks for the early morning chuckles Roan. 

My Thoughts

I am saddened by many events that have happened in this world, with the most recent being the obvious shooting in Connecticut.  I'm feeling an overwhelming sense of helplessness and melancholy about them all.  I don't see anything in the near future that's going to be done to change what's happening in the world.   And I'm not sure anything can be done to ensure this sort of thing doesn't happen again.

First and foremost my heart breaks for the parents and families of all the victims.  I know when I send Roan off to school each day that the farthest fear in my mind is that someone will shoot up his school.  I suppose it always lingers in the back of my mind about Gage, but that's to be expected right?  I mean we hear about teen aged angst all the time and unfortunately that angst sometimes leads to school shootings.  But never an elementary school.  Roan is supposed to be safe for another 2 1/2 years right???  I also know like most parents that not every day before school goes swimmingly.  Sometimes I yell at Roan and we both leave the house mad at each other because things didn't go smoothly while he was getting ready for school and I for work.  My  heart breaks for that mom who dropped her kid off at school that fateful morning frustrated and angry because he didn't do all the stuff he was supposed to do in the allotted time period.  The extra turmoil she must be feeling.... So that's kind of where I'm stuck mainly.  Focusing on my own flaws as a parent and my reactions to a little person when he strays from MY norm.    

I'm frustrated with the system.  And that's quite ironic for me to say because I don't really understand the system.  But I genuinely believe the system can't fix all this.  No matter what everyone and their brother suggests, I just don't see a government being able to repair this and stop it from ever happening again.  Or maybe I'm just so cynical about the system that I figure they won't even try. 

But my frustrations lie mainly with the media.  I have a harder time each day believing anything I read or see on the news.  I feel like the media is corrupting us all.  They sensationalize all this shitty stuff and give fucked up people something to strive to surpass-almost like the Guinness Book of World Records.    All they seem to focus on is the killer, their message and their motive.  No one ever remembers the names of the victims.  So if someone has ever felt alone in this world, invisible to everyone else what better way to become popular and well known than to do something so catastrophic that his name is front and centre in every one's minds?  It's pretty clear that if he just killed himself in the confines of his own home the media would never report that. He would have still died alone-a sad nobody who is still unknown to most.   By doing something so horrific he will be infamous for generations to come.  He will have made history books.   I'm frustrated that particularly in this situation that took place a few days ago there is no known motive or reason (yet) behind the actions of this disturbed man but the media has taken it upon themselves to educate all of us loyal readers and listeners and label him with Asperger's (a form of Autism), a nerd, a genius, a loner, and a sufferer of a personality disorder.  All things that add up to CRAZY, am I right?  So frustrating.  

And while I'm on the subject of frustrating I have seen numerous people post a list of all the victims names on the internet in the hopes of remembering at least one of them instead of just the killer's name.  Novel and admiral idea, but how come this guys mother's name isn't on that list??  She was off'd by her son but because he was her son clearly she's not a victim like the other's?  Maybe she tried desperately to stop him that morning and lost.  What's become of our society when we are held responsible for the shitty actions of our adult children?  As parents (just like the ones who lost their children this week) all we can do is hope we raise our kids to be good people.  It's our job to give them emotional support when they need it but we're not all perfect and sometimes the mentally ill have a really decent way of hiding it from those closest to them.  Why is she automatically lumped in with the evil that this man did?  Or his father and brother for that matter?  And don't tell me it's because she was the legal owner of those guns.  I don't buy it.  She didn't buy those guns with the intent for him to use them on a Grade 1 classroom full of kids.  And can I add, she LEGALLY owned them?  What is wrong with us as a society that we are so quick to condemn an uninvolved individual for someone else's actions?  You better all look closely at your children and pray to whatever entity helps you sleep soundly at night that your own children don't do something as repulsive and unforgivable.  Because you too will be shunned. 

I haven't watched much of the news or read too many articles because it saddens me enough just knowing this happened.  I don't need to listen or read all the mindless bullshit that is out there.  I don't need opinions of the reporters, or hearsay from bystanders to alter my own feelings about this situation.  What I do need to do is hug my kids more, keep the lines of communication open at all times, ask the right questions, choose my battles in the morning over cereal more carefully and hope with every fibre of my being that my children don't do something that destroys another life in any way, shape or form.   And really, I think that's the only way as whole that we can diminish these sort of events from happening.  We will never be rid of them, we'd be kidding ourselves to think we could.

That Old Familiar Feeling

There's something to be said about the comforting feeling I get when things revert back to a past normal for me.  For basically the past year Eric has been working either steady afternoons or steady midnights.  (Yuk, yuk and more yuk!)  I'm not lost without him as I'm a superdeeduper independent gal and all, but it's been topsy turvy to say the least.  It's hard for an entire house to remain quiet in the evening hours and it's hard for Eric to shut out the outside world to get proper sleep during the daylight hours.  It's safe to say that he was definitely ready to be done with this particular shift. 

So on Saturday following the dreaded (yet inevitable according to him) phone call informing Eric that his employer was laying a bunch of people off for 'lack of work' the demeanor in the house immediately changed.  Yah, pretty much just like that.  For him anyway.  Me?  Well of course I stress about finances.  But that's not really a huge issue when I think about it.  I survived all on my own for quite some time before Eric and his salary came along and I can persevere again if need be.  It was just really, REALLY nice to have two salaries again.  I won't lie.  At least unemployment insurance is an option this time if all else fails. 

I guess my point of this post is the comfort of having him around again.  I like being able to do stuff around the house with him (even if he hates it).  Seems like that kind of got away from us for a while.  Well, back at it!!  I also like having dinner together and preparing it together, even if he does stick goddamn Tempe in my freakin' stir fry.  And I really like that old familiar feeling of sitting side by side in bed on our laptops, blogging.  Yah folks, you read that right, he's posted FIVE new blog posts!! I shit you not.  We also throw the odd game of Scrabble in there too, but now he's getting good at that so I'm not feeling too superior anymore.   And I'm also looking forward to the day he can do drawings on the computer again for his old boss and a new book so I can curl up in the crook of his arm and go to sleep while he works.  That was cool too, even if it made things harder for him and he hates it. 

Today he got the chance to go work with a friend's father, who has a contracting company, cutting huge pieces of wood with chainsaws.  I know it could take a little bit of time and practise to get his skills back, but I have faith he can do it.  He's just that guy that seems to be decent at everything.  And big wood and powerful saws make him a happy lad.

So here's to new old normals my friends! 

Dress Shirt Throw Pillows

 

 

So when my father passed away, my sister and I got nuttin'.  No, no, we're not bitter (I'm trying to convince myself of that).  Well I suppose she did get something, she got some books.  But whatever, I don't really count those.  I hold on to the fact that my boys got something special of his and I suppose that's my share in a way.  So when I stumbled on this following idea I called my mom and secretly hoped she hadn't gotten rid of any of his clothes yet.  She hadn't.  Thank goodness for grief.  Am I right?  (I'M KIDDING, JEESH!). 

So for now I've taken possession of all of my dad's dress shirts.  I've pulled two out of the bunch to convert for my own keepsies and I figure eventually I'll turn all of them (including my two) into throw pillows!!  What's that?  What it is is a brilliant idea!  I think it's pretty cool that my dad once wore my throw pillows.  Wha-what?

So here goes.  I picked up some pillow forms at a garage sale for a buck each.  So basically these pillows cost me a buck each, not a bad score.  I measured the pillow, this particular one was 16 inches x 16 inches.  So I cut my material into a 16 inch square.  I didn't add much room to spare as I wanted it to be taut and not all loosey goosey.  I decided to include the pocket.  The inspiration photo I originally came across did not include the pocket, but I think it adds character and gives the impression that it was once a dress shirt. 

Once my squares were cut out I flipped them so the outsides were facing each other and I pinned them together .  Then I ran all four sides through my sewing machine.  Upon completion of all four sides I unbuttoned the shirt and inserted the pillow form.  Then I straightened it all out and did the buttons up again.  Et VOILA!  A throw pillow reminiscent of my daddio. 

This Moment - Part two {3}





My youngest son Roan has really taken a liking to drawing.  He's quite good at it and if I could just find a way to get past the debilitating effects of A.D.D. I could get him into a class where he could really fine tune his skills and shine.  For now though I'll take every invite I get from him to draw with him. 

I used to really enjoy drawing when I was younger.  I found I struggled with what exactly to draw and I see the same thing happening to Roan.  I was never one of those people who could just draw completely from my imagination.  I always did better following off of a picture.  I was a "mimicking artist" if you will. 

This particular drawing started with Roan hanging out in my bedroom on the floor,  quietly drawing and colouring.  Eric and I were on the bed watching television.  Roan asked if I would like to join him because he was working on a collage of monsters.  I immediately said yes.  I mean, who doesn't like to colour?  My initial thought was I'd help him colour in his work and he'd keep drawing.  But I got bit by the bug and started to draw my own stuff.  As we hung out on the floor colouring and drawing Roan thought Eric might feel left out so he too was invited to join in our collaboration. 

The above is the masterpiece we ended up with.  Don't get too scared, it's just a picture, they won't actually get you. 

It's pretty cool to see yourself in your kids.  As they get older I'm seeing it more and more and it's still fascinating to me that a piece of me (many in fact) is walking around in another human being.  I hope they only get the good stuff I have to offer and not any of my flaws.  What are some of the things you enjoy doing with your kids that you also enjoyed doing as a child?  Do your kids have some of the same interests you did? 


***And on a completely unrelated note, this is my 400th post bitches!!!!  Who'd have thunk I had it in me to commit to 400 blog posts.  Not this girl.  I have a tendancy to gain interest in something quite quickly but lose it just as fast.  I see no end in sight for this blog.  Lucky you guys.  ;)  Thanks so much for reading me babble on and for leaving me comments and feed back.  It's my favourite part! 

Memories in Ink

I was cleaning out my basement a couple of weeks ago.  I was making room for a new Kijiji find and to locate stuff I no longer use so I can donate to my sister in law's garage sale to raise money for my nephews education. 

I came across an old suitcase.  One I will never use again.  I have more modern stuff, with handles and wheels to make dragging it behind me so much easier.  Not this old thing... I'll donate it to the cause.  But first I'll remove my address tag.  No one needs my home address.  But alas, it wasn't my address tag after all, it was his.  Printed in that familiar font of his.  I wish it had said Kit Rousseau, but I'll take this.  I ripped it off.  I'm gonna keep it.  I can actually visualize him filling this out, the way his left hand transferred the information from the tip of the pen to the address label.  I always loved his penmanship.  Always.

I find comfort in the familiarity of this and I relish in the unexpected findings. 
Hi dad!  I love you. 

This Moment -part deux {2}

So sorry everyone, I was supposed to post the follow up to Monday's post on Friday but the day got away from me and we were heading out of town so I didn't get on here. 

Here's a quick synopsis of what memories accompany that picture.

Gage had previously been dumped and had gotten back together with the girl.  He had come to recently find out that she had only gotten back together with him because she was afraid that one of his friends, whom she was not interested in, was going to ask her out (a little presumptuous as it wasn't true).  So basically she was using him and he found out.  I asked him if he was sad or mad.  He replied, a little of both.  This sent my Mama-bear instincts into turmoil.  So we hatched a plan to dump her first.  A plan I was 100% confident would send her into fits of tears.  Wrong yes, but I'm not her mom, I'm his and he said he was sad. 

I remember what it was like to be a 12 year old girl so I knew how to accomplish this task.  We took a white shirt and wrote "AVAILABLE" on it in Sharpie.  He went to school and walked up to her at recess when all her friends were around and said, "Hey ****!  You and me?  We're through!"  The idea was to wear the t-shirt in front of her at this point and say the above and walk away.  He had better plans.  He borrowed a friend's zip up hoodie and wore it over his t-shirt for the first part of his day.  Then at the selected time he did what we talked about followed by unzipping the hoodie and walking up the hallway declaring to all the girls, "That's right ladies, Gage is available, Gage is available."

He was proud as punch when he got home and reported to Eric and Eric's buddy Tony what had transpired.  That's when Eric took this picture.  It takes a lot to get Gage to smile in a photo.  He felt much better about himself, and for that reason I'm not guilted by causing a girl in grade 7 to cry.  Besides, 12 year old girls cry all the time.  Pfft. 

This Moment {2}

**I've borrowed an idea from Janine over at Reflections From a Redhead who borrowed it from Thom at To Gyre and Gambol, who initially borrowed it from Cath at Just My Thoughts.  Last Monday I started a Monday ritual. One image will be posted. No words will describe it. It will capture a moment from my past, memories that I cherish. Then on Friday I will post part 2 of this new ritual where I will share the story behind the photo. This borrowed idea is called {This Moment}.

{This Moment - Part deux}

This a pretty old picture of Gage and Roan.  If I hazzard a guess I'd say it's at least 4 years old.  Gage is probably around 11 and Roan is around 7.  The boys and I had gone to the movie theatre to see a flick, the title is lost on me at the moment.  We were early so we went to hang out in the lounge area which was unpopulated for the most part.  I read the weekly and free version of Tribute magazine (one of my most favourite parts about going to the movie theatre) and the boys killed time. 

Once I was finished with my gossip rag I pulled out the old trusty camera from my purse and forced the boys to pose for silly pictures with me.  We have a bunch of them from this photoshoot, but this one is one of my favourites because I forced them into one of those awkward photo poses that would be worthy of that infamous website.  I made Gage lie down on the bench on his belly and told Roan to climb on top and lay down.  Then I said SMILE!  This is what I got.  I was actually kind of surprised Gage didn't balk at this suggestion, but this was clearly before he got his braces that made his teeth straighter thus making him "way more cool" and thus too hip to act silly with his little brother and his mom.

I don't remember the movie at all, but I do remember the 40 minutes we killed, just the three of us, laughing and snapping silly pictures of each other. 

{This Moment}

I've borrowed (oh who am I kidding, I've stolen) an idea from Janine over at Reflections From a Redhead who borrowed it from Thom at To Gyre and Gambol, who initially borrowed it from Cath at Just My Thoughts...phew that could get long winded if someone borrows it from me and then someone borrows it from then, and so on!  Starting today I'm going to begin a Monday ritual.  One image will be posted.  No words will describe it.  It will capture a moment from my past, memories that I cherish.  Then on Friday I will post part 2 of this new ritual where I will share the story behind the photo.  This borrowed idea is called {This Moment}

 

Flowers for a Flower

This past week was my brother's 40th birthday and this coming week is my niece, Sawyer's 4th birthday.  So to accompany the actual presents purchased in a store, I decided to make them each a craft this year, since that seems to be my shtick lately. 

I made my brother a 'king can' version of a red neck wine glass to use at his party (for pop silly, he doesn't drink) since he was the birthday boy, but the bugger never even used it!  Thankfully his wife, Anita, discovered the cubic capacity of the glass and stole it for her beer.  My kind of girl.

For Sawyer I decided to experiment with some crayon art that I'd seen on Pinterest.  I was able to find some canvas for $2 and I got some crayons and fake flowers at the Dollarama. 

I bought four boxes of crayons, because I mainly wanted to stick to greens, yellows, blues, oranges and browns.  (I figure I'll make another crayon art using the reds, pinks, and purples down the road.)  I then took my new, handy, dandy glue gun (works like a a glue gun should which is great since it's my 3rd one) and glued the crayons to the top of the board pointing down.  I then took my hair dryer and put it on medium heat and began melting the crayons.  It takes a while, have patience.  And as note for the next time, I probably should used the diffuser attachment to help keep the hot air concentrated on certain areas.  Make sure you have some newspaper under it as the wax will run and sometimes it splattered off the canvas.  I had propped the canvas up on the back of a chair so gravity could assist me and I found that helpful as well. 

Once I got the look I was going for, I plugged my trusty glue gun back in and by the time it had heated up, the running wax had solidified in place.  I then glued some silk (I use that term loosely as they're made of polyester) flowers randomly onto the streaks thus creating a garden when you flip the canvas over and the crayons are now at the bottom. 

This craft took maybe an hour and most of that was melting the crayons.  The whole thing probably cost me 18 dollars total and I still have flowers and crayons left over for another project, so let's cut that in half shall we?  So for $10  I made Sawyer a craft from her Auntie Holly, and then I jotted a little note on the back for her.  Maybe she'll keep it around for when she's older (which would be cool) or maybe she won't.  Either way, it was a fun craft and one I'd do again.  I have something in mind already for Round 2. 

White Trashapalooza!

So it seems my brother and his wife may have inadvertently started a new trend.  This year for my brother's 40th birthday they had their 2nd annual "White Trash Party".  It's probably insulting to red necks but to 'those' people you can't really insult them so don't worry your pretty little heads over it.  I'm quite certain they'd think we did them proud.

I should have taken pictures of the house as it appeared when we drove up.  There were tacky signs about Geoff being 40 and cars parked all over the front lawn with gardening tools strategically placed, or strewn about rather.  There was a smorgasbord of food consisting of Kentucky Fried Chicken, wieners and beans, baked beans, hot dog and cheese kabobs (raw of course), jambalaya and the birthday cake made solely of Twinkies pasted together with icing.

I don't recall any spectacular decorations, aside from the bras in the tree, because everyones' outfits stole the show.  It was a musical revue for my eyes.  Aside from two people (who joined us following a legit, non-white trash party) EVERYONE showed up in costume and might I add, they totally BROUGHT it!!  Value Village must have seen a spike in their sales this past week. 

Eric and I showed up trying to go for a different trashy look this year over last and this time we brought our kidlets in tow, who also represented.  I still can't look at the pictures of Roan without laughing.  He was a great sport and even won his own 'best costume' award:  an unopened box of Twinkies.  He was quite pleased with himself and proceeded to eat the box of Twinkies for breakfast the next morning.  Nothing trashy about being a mom who allowed that, right? 

I channeled Peg Bundy, Eric channeled a cross between Ninja of Die Antwoord and Al Pacino in Taxi Driver (but for some reason I thought he still looked crazy hot), Roan channeled the stereotypical white trash boy and Gage channeled a 'wigger' teenager ( I know it's a harsh term, but it's a term none the less). 

Dawn and Anita bought their supplies at K-mart in the States (who knew that this style was back in?), my mom formulated a cross between her mother and mother in law and sported a buttload of polyester.  We weren't lacking for kindling if we needed it. 

Kind of wish we'd had it in us to take an entourage trip to Walmart.  We probably would have ended up on the People of Walmart website.  Then we'd have known we truly nailed it. 

When You Wish Upon A Star....

A shooting star is a common name for the visible path of a meteoroid as it enters the atmosphere to become a meteor. 

This the closest photo I could find on line to depict what we were seeing last night.

This weekend is prime opportunity to witness numerous shooting stars in the night skies.   As it turns out, and most of you are aware, this weekend will be host to the best meteor shower of the year with hundreds of shooting stars filling the sky in the pre-dawn hours.  The Perseid Meteor showers will peak on Sunday night. 

Interestingly enough, in my 38 years I have no recollection of ever having the opportunity to see a shooting star.  I'm not much of a star gazer and I don't sit around ogling the heavens at night too often so my chances have been greatly diminished.   Last night was a first for me. 

Eric and I decided to create a makeshift 'bed' on the trampoline, since the temperature in the air was totally perfect last night, around midnight.  We got comfy and laid there and stared up at the night sky.  It had been kind of cloudy all day and supposedly there was supposed to be some storm that was due to blow in.  Thankfully the clouds dispersed and that storm never transpired. 

Immediately upon climbing up onto the trampoline I witnessed my very first shooting star.  And after an hour and a half, at the very most, I'd witnessed 26.  A couple of them were really amazing!  I didn't make a wish on any of them.  I thought since they were sending me so many for my first time it would be presumptuous of me to think I could wish on them all.  By number 26 I'd gotten too comfy (in true Holly fashion) and closed my eyes and fell asleep under the starry night.   Eric reported counting 44 before he too fell prey to sleep. 

We woke up at 7 this morning covered in dew with a light sprinkling of rain falling on us.  (I have to say dew works wonders on my hair.  It's so soft and curly this morning!  Probably not nearly as beautiful and flowing as I imagine it is but it sure feels that way.)

I think we're going to head out again tonight provided the weather co-operates and watch some more before I have to come in and sleep in a real bed before work tomorrow.  I'm gonna drag the boys out to witness it this time around though. 

Did you see meteors last night?  How many did you witness?

Dr. Mom

Haven't had the desire to write a blog post since completing the July challenge.  It's been nice not having that underlying 'pressure' of sorts.  I've also been sick in bed for the past two days and feeling like a truck ran me over so that doesn't help either.  Yesterday I got an email that was entitled, "Reminds me of you".  It was one of those chain letter emails but the fact that the sender put that in the subject line made me actually read it.  That sender was my mom (she's probably biased, but when I'm feeling shitty and sick it was a nice little pick me up!) and here's what it said.

"She can deal with stress and carry heavy burdens. She smiles when she feels like screaming, and she sings when she feels like crying. She cries when she's happy and laughs when she's afraid. Her love is unconditional."

So thanks mom for this unknowing bright spot in my lousy day.  Mom's are the best and I'm both glad to be part of that catagory and glad to have my own awesome mom.

Boys into Men

I was inspired after reading a blog to share some of her ideas of what things of importance should be discussed with growing boys.  And because I too have procreated and spewed forth (probably not the best way to describe it but whatever) two boys into the world I suppose it's best if I parent them to be contributing members of society or at the very least decent human beings.  I continuously feel like I'm participating in an up hill battle with the ex because he's probably not what one might consider the world's best role model.  Two steps forward, 3 steps back seems to be my mantra lately when it pertains to the father of my boys. 

These are some things that the parents of boys should discuss with their kids.  Some of these I've voiced already to my own, and some I really need to get a jump on quickly.  I can only hope that in that glazed over look of theirs, they've heard a portion of what I've said to them. 

1.  Your son should play a sport.  Even if it's not the traditional sport in the sense of the word.  Being part of team shows him how to work with others and be responsible with time management.  In a round about way it's introducing him to work ethic (if he commits to a team he must show up for the game).  He'll learn respect for authority (those coaches, refs and umps can be harsh!).  Most importantly put him in a sport where there are still wins and losses (these helicopter parents and the "everyone gets a medal" mentality is doing us no favours).  Hopefully he'll learn how to lose with style  and win with modesty.  But most importantly, statistics show that those involved in team sports are less likely to be out causing trouble in the streets.  Food for thought. 

2.  As the male, your son will essentially set the tone for the sexual part of his relationships.  He should know it is not his place to take something away from a girl that he doesn't have the power to give back.  He should learn to ask himself questions like, is this how I'd want someone to treat my mom or sister?  He needs to be aware that his actions have consequences, both good and bad.  Teach your son that everyone has a voice, even a mate.  Respect in a relationship is critical and starting young will teach him to be an amazing man.

3.  A foundation of education can never be taken from him.  Being too smart will never be a detriment.  He should never want to stop learning.  Show him that knowledge is power.  Try your best to instill the desire to learn.  Show him with education, good things will eventually come his way (even if it's just always winning at mindless bar trivia nights - free drinks and food are an added perk for being smart). 

4.  Boys are never as particular with their appearance as girls, but he should take pride in his.  Personal hygiene is one of the first things girls notice (ya we're vain like that).  Start young and teach him how to match clothes, wash his own hair, brush his teeth, etc., and help him understand why he should want to do these things.

5.  The art of urination.  It is supposed to go in the big porcelain bowl, yup all of it!  I suppose there is no real proper way to teach them how to perfectly aim that stuff, but make sure you stay on him until he masters it.  Sometimes boys don't understand that it doesn't get cleaned up all by itself.  (A mother's work is never done.)  Maybe if you make him do it once in a while he'll master the art much more quickly.

6.  It's going to prove fruitful if you can teach your son to be a leader, not a follower or bossy.  Far more success is accomplished with a good teacher who shows his group how to work together to get the mission accomplished.  Peer pressure is less of an issue with a leader than a follower as well.  And we all know peer pressure causes poor mom's to lose sleep at night.

7.  Learning how to save money is one of the hardest things to do but something that habit is best taught at a young age.  Your son needs to understand that saving when he's young is required for him to have money when he's old.    It sucks but one day he'll be glad he has those skills.  

8.  Teach your kid to never be a bully or pick on another human being.  But at the same time teach him to stand up for himself, his family and his friends when he needs to.  Make sure he knows the difference.  I also told my boys I'd have their back every step of the way as long as they weren't the instigators of the fight and they were doing it to protect another person or themself.  I have no regrets having said that to this day.

9.  How he treats women will be a reflection of what he sees and lives with.  Teach him to treat women with kindness and respect.  Being alone in life can feel like an eternity, but being with someone you hate or who hates you can feel even longer.    Be kind. 

10.  Teach your son housecleaning skills as soon as you think he's able to not break your washing machine, dishwasher, vacuum cleaner, toilet brush, etc.  In the event that he moves out and gets his own place he needs to know how to keep it clean.  And more importantly he needs to want to!

11.  There is still no sweeter sound than manners coming out of someone's mouth.  Please and thank you still takes you pretty far these days. 

12.  Fart and poop jokes shouldn't be the only funny thing in his repetoire.  Teach him to find humour in lots of other stuff too.  There's not much better than a great joke with awesome delivery. 

13.  Help him understand that a woman can do everything that he can do.  This includes, but is not limited, to her having a successful career and him raising the kidlets.  Mutual respect in a relationship is key.  Everyone has different skills and different roles, embrace them all.

14.  Beg him, if need be, to choose his spouse wisely (this is one of my biggest fears when it comes to my boys aging).   She will hold the key to how often you are able to spend time with your son and grandchildren.  He needs to know it's extremely important to pick a mate that gets along well with his mom (this will lead to a much happier son and mama!).

15.  Explain to him that private parts are called that for a reason...Because they're private.  Keep the public scratching of said parts to a minimum eh? 

16.  And last but not least, teach him your phone number and the importance of using it frequently.  Somedays you might be missing him more than others and a random phone call is all it may take to make his mom smile.  Boys love to make their mom's smile.

Dark Run, Blind Fury

So who doesn't love a story about an underdog trying to fulfill a dream while raising money for a number of charities?   I mean that sounds like the making of a great Hollywood production doesn't it?  And maybe if he's successful that will come to fruition. 

So here's the story:   My friend Stuart "T-bone" Gunn is attempting to beat the landspeed world record on a motorcycle.  Sounds pretty lame when you hear it doesn't it?  EXCEPT, he's registered 100% blind!  Yup blind.  Not blindfolded...actually blind...on a motorcycle going top speed!  Is he crazy???  Maybe a little.   Oh I should mention he also suffers from 90% paralysis on the entire right side of his body.  So lets make sure we understand the magnitude of this situation, he's physically disabled and blind, racing a high speed motorcycle around a track going as fast as he possibly can.  Sounds like disaster waiting to happen, but if anyone can pull this off, it's Stuart.  He's got his heart behind him.  And he's doing all this for bragging rights and to support a number of charities that are dear to that awesome heart of his. 

The bike he wants to be riding, the chair he normally rides.

The official date of the race hasn't been set yet and the logistics are still confusing to me, but I trust it is going to get done (I know the plan was for it to happen this year some time).   He's participated in numerous charity events to raise awareness and funds for this adventure and could use even more support.  Check out his webpage, Raspberry Ripple Racing  to read his story of how he's ended up where he is, and the details about the race.  Give your support with words or put your money where your mouth is, every little bit helps I'm sure.  It's a pretty surreal venture.   Since it doesn't cost you a cent, you could totally repost this and know that you're making a man smile with a single act of kindness.  The more people who are aware of this event, the better!  Do your part will you?  Help a man achieve his goal.  

Good luck T-bone!  I'm proud to call you my friend. 

Picking Your Battles

My career path has been bitter sweet.  After 16 years of heartaches and triumphs you know what my job has taught me?  It's taught me to pick my battles.   Pick the fights that are worth fighting for and let the little stuff just float away.  In a perfect world this would always just be.  But as human beings we are riddled with too many emotions and it's very hard not to let them envelope us some days. 

I have sat across the table from a family that is burying someone far too early, far too many times.  And despite these numerous experiences I will never begin to understand the hopeless feeling a mother must go through when she's picking that last outfit for her child to wear.  For no longer is her child there to tell her for the 10th time that he just simply does NOT wear stripes!  No longer is her daughter there to tell her she's just "so sick of pink - don't you dare bury me in that pink dress.  You liked that dress, not me!"  What thoughts run through a father's mind when he is selecting a casket for his teen aged son?  He's probably thinking this should be a bright and sunny Saturday afternoon and we should be out test driving for his first car.  He should be talking his son out of any yellow car.  Yellow cars are not cool.  He should not picking a matte or gloss stained wooden box.  What do these parents feel when they know in a mere 3 days they will never be able to look their child in the face again?  Do they regret screaming for their kid to get out of their face because he's driving them crazy?  What about the thought of never holding your kid's hand again?  All those times you complained about his sticky fingers touching you...

I know kids do just that, they drive us crazy.  They test their boundaries by testing ours.  They make mistakes as they learn (some extremely stupid ones), and instead of trying to explain to them how terrible the outcome is we turn to the ways we know best, we yell at them.  Sometimes out of fear for them and other times out of exasperation.  Regardless, we can look back and acknowledge that we perhaps could have handled it much better than we did because you know what?  We too make mistakes, probably much more frequently than any of us would like to admit.  Is this how we'd want to be called out on our mistakes? 

So what I've learned in my 15+ years of taking care of those that have gone before us, is that I'll NEVER begin to understand what a parent goes through at the death of their child.  I cannot sympathize, and I cannot empathize.  I just cannot (or will not) begin to imagine.  The only thing I've taken from these horrible, heartbreaking experiences is this:

• You are never old enough for it to be ok to bury your child.  I've buried a woman who was in her mid-70's whose mother, at 94, was still alive.  Her mother wept like her daughter was 10. 
• Wiping pee off a toilet seat for the thousandth time is  also something I've willing to live with and not get angry over even if I just sat in it.  It means my son is home and safe and able to pee on my toilet seat. 
• A messy bedroom is just that, a messy bedroom.  It is something a grieving parent would do anything to have back.  It's a shrine of their child's existence.  And isn't that what doors are for?
• Bereaved parents are some of the strongest people I've ever met.  I still don't know how they walk away from the casket that last time at the cemetery.  Or how they are able to remain upright as they watch the hearse leave with their daughter to go for cremation.  How do they find the strength to walk out of the funeral parlour at 9 p.m. after all of their friends have left and they aren't able to take their child with them?   I'm not sure I'd be able to find the strength to leave him there while I returned to my empty house - A shell of a home. 
• The fighting and power struggles just aren't worth it.  I'm not willing to chance that that is the last conversation I have with my child.  Do not leave a fight as, potentially, your last interaction.  Treat your children how you want and expect them to treat you.  With respect for their feelings and beliefs even if you don't agree.  You can still win the battle, you should just choose to win with grace and decorum. 
• Don't let animosity build up and build up until you resent your child.  Talk to him, help him understand how he is hurting you.  Let him make restitution on his own.  You'll be teaching him valuable lessons. 
• Sometimes material possessions and the importance of these items overshadow the importance of one's child.  Or we stress how important these items are and sometimes forget how to stress how important our children are instead. 
• I know not everyone will have these stories, but I do and so I share these heartbreaking tragedies with my two sons.  My hope is that they will learn from another person's mistake or misfortune (those words don't seem appropriate though) and therefore that person will not have died in vain.  Because if even one (or two) people, like my boys, don't get behind the wheel of car after drinking, or don't try those drugs, or don't swim in unsafe waters, then their death isn't all just loss.    
• I've learned that you should find a moment in every day to hug your kids or compliment them or make them feel useful and loved.  It takes nothing more than a moment.  But they'll remember it forever. 
• If it's not going to kill your child and he's happy then don't fight him on it.  Just because you don't agree with your child's lifestyle choice just be glad they are comfortable in their own skin.  They aren't asking you to fix the worlds problems or views for them, they are just asking you to love them regardless. 
• Pick your battles.  There are definitely some worth 'fighting' for as you want your kids to grow up to be good people.  But make sure the fight is for the right reasons.  There's some valuable lessons in that old saying, "There's no use crying over spilled milk."

So I guess what I'm hoping to convey (to other parents who haven't experienced the profound loss of a child), is to take a moment and try to imagine for that split second how badly those grieving parents want to switch spots with us for even 10 minutes.  Think of how they probably long to be in that same spot we are, where we are huffing and puffing and grinding our teeth and wondering how we are going to get through the day without harming our own offspring (don't lie, you've been there).  Step back before you shout at your kid, even if it's just to give yourself that 10 minutes you need to calm down a bit and let the influx of anger pass through you. 

Our children are our legacy that we will (hopefully) one day leave behind, I understand the need to ensure that our legacy is wonderful and brilliant but at what cost?  I want my kids to love me, there is no doubt.  I want them to remember their childhood not for the tension they felt around me or the hostility in our home, but for the support and laughter they shared with me.  Some days I question myself and wonder if I'm too lenient with them, have I gone so far to the other end of the spectrum because I'm choosing my battles?  But I let those thoughts quickly fade.  I've decided that I don't feel inclined to yell at them a lot because they are good kids and they aren't doing things to require those responses, yet.  I've been lucky.  I hope that what I've chosen to do with my children (because of the lessons I've learned as a result of another's loss of child) is working.  I hope they are hearing the stories and thinking twice.  I hope the lines of communication I have with my boys will always remain open.  I know for sure they will on this end. 

Love your kids and ensure you are able to look back on your own life and love yourself as a parent and a leader because unfortunately in the real world, the opportunity to make changes may be taken from you in a split second.