Sunday, May 31, 2009
Get this. I was in Chapters today, looking for 2 books that they DID NOT have (ugh, super bummed, think I'm going to have to order them) and while perusing the aisles found a book holder. I kid you not. It holds your book for you so that you don't have to while you read it. Could we get any lazier? How difficult is it to hold a book? I admit I usually take the easy way out...last week I'm ashamed to say I bought cheese that had already been cut. It just seemed like a good idea at the time. But I draw the line at paying $19.99 for a plastic book holder. And it's Chapters....they have like every book under the sun except the one (two) I'm looking for. They have a stupid book holder evidently...but not the book. How helpful is that? I detest parents who speak very loudly to their kids in public. It's like they're not talking to their kids but to everyone else around them. Look at what a great parent I am. I'm interacting with my kid and I'm being nice to boot. No, you're just being loud and polluting my space with your loud, fake rantings. Shut up. And no, your kid does not need another donut, either. Irony. Finding what you've always wanted and all you've ever needed, only to know it's 1500km away and impossible. So close and yet so far away. Guess I should have been more specific when I threw the penny in the wishing well, when I wished upon a shooting star, when I blew the eyelash off my finger, when I ate the chip that was curled, when I blew out the candle on that kids cake the other day, and every other way I could have wished it. I even prayed about it. I am being taught extreme patience, trust, and loving on a level deeper than I have ever known. Still early in the journey, and I'm already frustrated. Someone out there is laughing, but it sure as hell isn't me.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
I was on my way to work, sitting on the skytrain (and no, sorry this is not one of those 'I'm a freak magnet' stories...) minding my own business, doing my crossword puzzle when out of nowhere this bible verse popped into my head. Ya, this stuff NEVER happens to me. Ever. It was Jeremiah 29:11
For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."It was so crazy. It was so powerful that I had to write the words out over and over and over just so I could release some of the pressure in my head. Here's a little known fact about me: I like to be in control. I know it's shocking. I've come to terms with it. An even lesser known fact...I'm an instant gratification kinda gal. Also very shocking. Okay, okay...those of you who know me well (or not well at all...) know these things about me. These are basically two character traits that define who I am. Don't get me wrong, I realise these are more flaws than positive qualities. So, that bible verse...it scares the shit out of me. In the best way possible, of course. As far as my relationship with God goes...I've pretty much been sitting on the fence for about 10 years now. I absolutely believe He exists. I absolutely believe that He sent his son to die for me. After that, it gets a little blurry. I grew up in a church that relied very heavily on fear based religion. Do this or you will go to hell, do that or you will go to hell. I spent my formative years being afraid, terrified that if I did anything wrong I would go to hell. The horrible part was I knew I wasn't perfect. I knew I was going to screw things up, ergo I was going to hell. Somewhere along the road, I missed the day that God's grace was taught. I missed the whole point, I get that. But not being afraid just felt so good. I could do things that satisfied my need for instant gratification and not feel guilty or damned. I was in control of my life. I made the decisions. It was all about ME. Ya, so I know you're asking, "how'd that work out for you?" and we all know the answer. Single motherhood is the first thing that comes to mind. I am a product of MY choices. The thing is that right now, everything is going reasonably well in my life. I mean, I'm in a job that I hate. I don't understand why I'm there. I don't feel as though I'm making a difference. And I have no control over being there. The pay is good, the benefits are fantastic and they're reasonably flexible if I need some time off for Q. But I left my job at the airport, one that I absolutely loved for this and I question daily WHY I did (okay, okay, so it wasn't so much a choice as it was a lay off, but that's just semantics.) At the airport, I got to be a part of people's first airplane ride, or first vacation in 25 years, or their honeymoon, or any number of incredible events. I got to be apart of it. Many times, a passenger's trip was made or broken by my decision. It wasn't the power that got to me, it was the honour that I was apart of their life, even for a bit. I took the responsibility very seriously and I was good at what I did. My job now is filled with disgruntled employees who hate their job and a management 'team' that has more problems than an episode of Jerry Springer. Blah, blah, blah, right? Everyone hates their job, or part of it...so I must make it clear...it's not my hatred for the job. It's that I don't understand why I'm there. And I'm lonely. That's certainly not a secret. I want a partner to share my life with. I want someone who I love and respect and who cherishes me, too. I want the 'for better or for worse.' Ugh, I want someone to cuddle with and laugh with and someone to hold me. I've been sitting on the fence for too long. I'm being asked to make a decision. It's not a "how much do you trust Me?" It's a "Do you trust Me at all?" It's not a test. It's not a trial. It's a simple question. "Do you trust Me? Because I'm telling you that I have a plan for your life. A plan for you to prosper. I'm giving you hope for the future." Well, isn't that what I've wanted all along?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? Why am I resisting this? I want hope. I crave hope. The answer to my loneliness and my frustration with my job is right infront of me, if only I am brave enough to take it. If only I can find the courage to let go of the control. And somethings are worth waiting for. Somethings, I'd wait a lifetime for. There's a plan for my life. A plan for me to prosper. There is hope for me. It doesn't have to be a scary thing. I'm feeling kinda stoked about the whole thing to be quite honest. If ever a sign was given...
Friday, May 29, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Love. It's been on my mind. Alot lately. More than usual. I think people have forgotten how to love, or maybe they never knew in the first place. I've said before that I believe the only true, pure love that exists is that between a parent and a child (and even that can be warped in this world) I love my child unconditionally. There is absolutely nothing he can do that will ever, ever change that. I look at him and I melt. I cannot believe that I am his mother, and he has my blood coursing through his veins. I gave him life and I am in awe of what I created. I also know that my mom and dad love me. Absolutely. Without a doubt. My mom is one of my best friends and I know that she never judges my actions, she just tries to understand them. lol - as do I most times! My best friend in the whole world is one of the most self centered, self obsessed people I have ever met. She drives me insane. She is out going and beautiful and spontaneous and she talks a mile a minute about everything and nothing. Men are drawn to her, drawn to her in a way I cannot comprehend. But I love her to pieces. My brother is the exact opposite of me. Exact opposite. He is handsome and charming and nomadic. He could pick up tomorrow and go to India for 3 months, just because it seems like a good idea. He is athletic and a brainiac. He has traveled the world. He listens to different, alternative music and understands it. I love him for everything I am not. I love intrinsically. I do not love them for what they can or cannot do for me. I do not love them for their quirks or their faults. I do not love them because they are perfect or beautiful. I love them for no other reason than that is what I am compelled to do, and I cannot imagine NOT loving them with my whole being. It terrifies me that love has become (or maybe always has been) a weapon. People use love as a means to an end. It has become a bargaining chip in a society where selfishness is paramount. What can YOU do for me? What will loving you do for me? In relationships, it becomes a game, a test, "if you loved me, you would..." In the midst of a failed relationship, it becomes vessel for pain, "I never did love you..." Never can I imagine more hurtful words spoken. Finally, after years of hatred and anger have dissipated, I can honestly say that I did at one time love my ex. I loved him with my whole heart. I loved every flaw. (I did...even the super annoying ones...like having to set 3 alarm clocks. And still sleeping in. Seriously...who sleeps that soundly? Definitely not me.) My son was conceived in love and hope and fear all rolled up into one. But my ex couldn't love me back. He couldn't and I could only be pushed away so many times before I realised that coming back for more was not the answer. He is an emotional void, he is selfish. What's my point, right? I don't know. Okay, wait...yes I do. My point is this. I am a whole person, I am complete. I am still learning and still growing and I hopefully will until the day I die. I am certainly not perfect. I have flaws, I have baggage, I have issues. I don't love because I need to be loved back. Trust me, the majority of my loves have been from afar (and not stalker crazy afar, just loving those I couldn't have for one reason or another.) I am independent and fiercely so. I can fix my own toilet (albeit grudgingly), I can pay my own bills, I don't need a man in my life to do that stuff. What I need, what I crave, is a man who's love is all he brings to the table. Because I will stand before him and offer the same. A man who will let me love him, if only for the simple reason that I am compelled to do so. p.s. I took my profile of POF. After coming to this realisation, it seemed too shallow a pond (haha, punny). I am saving my love for the man who can appreciate that it is a gift that comes with no strings attached, no games, no ulterior motives. Interestingly enough, this has been a difficult realisation. I don't know why. It has been painful and my chest hurts when I breathe. Perhaps it's just a growing pain. I'm growing past the dating games and looking a little deeper.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
You know, one day I'm going to answer this question honestly. My day is just fabulous, thanks for asking. I have an insane headache. Probably because I woke up late, didn't get a chance to eat before I got to work, and then by the time I did eat, it was too late. I usually keep a reserve of Advil, but evidently I pop 'em like candy, so now it is pounding...behind my eyes, down my neck, both temples. I need a massage. I'm still dealing with guilt today over the fact that I decided to clean the house on Sunday instead of Monday. Sunday, true to its name, was beautifully sunny and hot. Q and I should have hung out at the beach and cleaned on Monday when it RAINED ALL BLOODY DAY. But no, poor planning on my part and I am still kicking myself in the ass over it. What a waste of a beautiful day. What a waste of a rainy day too, for that matter. Rainy days are perfect for cleaning, with the sweet smells that only spring rains bring. Ugh. Now I feel even worse about cleaning on Sunday. I hate my job, I hate stupidity and ironically they go hand in hand on most days. I hate even more that the issue is no longer my coworker's stupidity but my disdain for him. It's no longer his monkey, it's mine. And I don't know how to change it. I wear my emotions. It's completely evident that I have no patience for him or his incompetence. I have a hard time even saying "hi" without giving him the evil eye. And so now it's become all about that. I've become the bitch. I hate being a bitch. It's too exhausting. It eats away at me. And I'm pretty sure it makes me frown, which will give me wrinkles. I like to, as a rule, stay away from anything that will give me wrinkles. (Although I worry and worrying makes me frown, which gives me wrinkles....so there goes that theory...) The problem as I perceive it is this - being a non bitch requires swallowing my pride. It means being nice to this guy, helping him, and I don't know if I can do it. It seems so unfair that this guy gets paid the same amount as me when half my job is trying to undo or fix what he's done. But being a bitch is hard. I hate being the bitch. I miss my son. I have huge issues about working full time, with being a single mom. I feel like I don't see him enough or spend enough quality time with him. He's growing so fast. Guilt, guilt, guilt. And then there is this huge elephant in my life right now. I can't talk about it, although I am dying to. I wonder if someone else has seen (felt) it, but can't ask....you know, 'cos it's the elephant in the room that no one talks about. But it is bigger than I am and I just have to trust that if it is in the plan for my life that it will happen. I truly believe that some things happen for a reason but this just seems impossible and wonderful and did I mention impossible? For the time being, this one is completely out of my hands. I just have to hope and pray that a seed has been planted and is growing in my favour. But with my luck, most likely it is not. And it's all I think about day and night, so I am losing sleep over something I have no control over. Oh, and then today, I flushed the toilet (toliet? I can never remember that one) and the thingy that flushes breaks. So now in order to flush my toilet (toliet?) I have to stick my hand in the bowl and pull the thingy. This also means I have to make a trip to crappy tire to buy a new one (where I ask the guy where I can find a 'thingy' for my toliet (?) and he looks at me like "Don'tcha know it's called a _____, not a thingy") and then I have to FIX it. Why? Oh, that's right because if I don't, it won't get fixed. Seriously folks, it's times like these that I wish I could say "Oh pookie, could you fix the thingy in the toliet (toilet??? oh I give up...now they both look wrong) while I go bake some brownies" I'm all for 'his' and 'hers' jobs...especially if it means I do not have to take out the garbage or fix toilets or go to crappy tire. Just for the record, I'd never call him 'pookie', it just fit the sentence. Or maybe I would just to be annoying, like all those annoying in love people out there. On a funny note, tho, Q is going pee like every 5 minutes just so he can flush the thing (aha!) And then there's the smoking. 4 1/2 months and I just want a smoke sooooo bad, and I've gained 20 pounds, so that's a bonus right? Just more of me to love I always say. Now, it's day two of diet....and all I want is a smoke and a chocolate bar. Wow, ain't life grand. So, that's how my day is going. Thanks for asking. How's yours? Oh wait. I don't care. (ooooh, see there was the bitch again...sooo not good.) But the Advil gel caps are working, so I don't feel like throwing up any more...that's a bonus. And I just won the cutest pair of running shoes on e-bay. They're pink. And so this will make losing weight fun, I just know it (ahhhhhhh, sweet sarcasm.....)
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Ugh. My life is sooooo boring right now. I'm stuck in a rut. I do the same thing every day. I wake up. I go to work. I come home. I go to bed. I do this 5 days a week. Of course I have Q alot of the time, and that breaks up the monotony. But on the days when I don't have him....booooooooring. There's nothing to look forward to. I hate my job. I haven't seen my friends in ages. Ha, date? That's just a joke. Ha. Ha. Ha. So, I was so bored, I figured I needed a diversion. I narrowed it down to 3 options...start smoking again, get a fake-n-bake tan, or re-activate my account with Plenty of Fish. Seeing as how 2 out of the 3 options have been proven to cause cancer, I decided to go with door number 3. On line dating...again. I know, it was only weeks before that I swore off the site. But for an instant gratification gal like myself, mundane doesn't work. There is no excitement in my life. Yes, my life is simple. And that is by design. I don't like complicated. I don't like crazy busy. I like to stop, smell the roses. I've learned how important it is to stop and notice the small things, otherwise the small things pass you by and you miss so many significant things. That's one of the many blessings of a small child...getting to see the world through their eyes again for the first time. But this is just blah. Blah. So, POF... It was probably a good two days before I remembered all the things I HATE about POF. I hate spelling and grammar mistakes. Hate them...huge pet peeve for an English Major such as myself. There's this fabulous new discovery called "Spell check" and hundreds of people probably worked thousands of hours tediously entering every single correctly spelled word known to man just so you - Mr. Enchanted Soul (yes, I kid you not) - can appear more intelligent than you are. I hate that everyone is looking for the same thing. How is that possible? How? If we're all looking for someone to cuddle with on rainy days, and go for long walks by the beach, and bbq's then why, I ask, are so many people still single? It should be a whole lot easier, I think. It's funny how everybody is easy going with a great sense of humour. Not everyone can be that funny. Or that easy going. It's impossible. But no, everyone on POF is Mr. Congeniality. But maybe my biggest pet peeve is the pics. The pics are not designed to attract women. They're designed to impress other men. Every picture has a guy with his car or his motorcycle or on a boat. The next pic is the "I drink Beer" pic...every profile has one of these. Then there's the token "I have lots of female friends" pic...always taken in a bar, always with women who are wearing too little. My fav was the guy who's picture was of him in a hideously ugly lazy boy recliner from 1982. Honestly...what woman is going to be attracted to that? It's so cliche...the single guy with the ugly chair that you have to combine with your furniture once you move in together. 'Friends' already did that episode....so, I'll move on to the next. The thing is, though, it doesn't matter how many pictures I scroll thru, or how many profiles I read, or how many e-mails I get that say "Howz u doin'?" Nothing attracts me. Nothing pulls me in. I'd get more excitement out of looking for shoes on e-bay. (Ooooh, like my heart just skipped a beat when I wrote that!!) I'm just reminded of what I've already learned...attraction is not a face, or a few random thoughts or quirky traits. Love is not a 'first sight' kinda deal and trust is built after getting to know someone. These things I can't get from a picture on the internet. It's empty. And the people in the ads are always way hotter than any guy I've ever come across. If dating is supposed to be a fulfilling experience, this is not. It's depressing. Recently it became clear to me that what I'm looking for is out there. He does exist. I gotta be honest, I was starting to believe 'he' didn''t. I met someone who restored my faith in man (men...) because he is one of them. And I may not be able to have him (who knows...) but it's worth the wait should I be so lucky. It gives me hope, he gives me hope. And life without hope, well, it's just boring...
Sunday, May 3, 2009
At 6:00am the other morning, my son Q woke me up. "Mommy!" he whispered sweetly in my ear. "Hmmmm?" I grunted (I'm not a morning person to begin with, coupled with the fact that I had gone to bed at 3:00am, well...I wasn't exactly waxing poetic) "I really, really want a skateboard so I can do tricks like Uncle Deedee." "Ok," I said "Tell ya what, honey...go back to sleep. In 3 hours, we'll talk about getting a skateboard." "Mommy?" he whispered again. "Yes?" "Does this mean I can have one?" "Go back to sleep." "Okay." The next day we made a special trip to buy a skateboard. My brother, Uncle Deedee came as the "resident expert" on skateboarding, and Q was a happy little boy. Sometimes I wonder (note: when I say wonder, I really mean worry. Worrying is what I do. I worry all the time about everything, and if I have nothing to worry about, then the obvious thing for me to do would be to...worry.) So, sometimes I wonder if I'm one of those parents who tries to buy their childs love out of guilt. I'm a single mom. I work full time. The time I do spend with my son is usually spent cleaning or mundane everyday things that don't matter but are necessary to life - so I guess they do matter technically. I've lucked out because my kid actually likes to clean...seriously. I don't know where he gets it from, but it's not from me. I haven't vacuumed since he was 2. Vacuuming is his favourite, but he has found a new excitement in cleaning the toilet. Not a word of a lie, folks...today these words came out of my mouth..."Q, if you don't clean up your cars, you won't vacuum later." The cars mysteriously vanished in a matter of minutes. It's a blessing, nay he's a blessing! Anyways, back to the guilt. We've become this society of guilty parents. There are self help books galore that feed into this guilt. You should do this, you must do this, or else...I've even read a few of them. Well, that's not true. I started to read a few. But I get so overwhelmed at this task of raising my child to be an honourable man that I stop reading. It freaks me out. My ex is an emotional void, okay...not fair. He is the emotional equivalent of an 18 year old boy, and we all know how intuitive 18 year old boys are. They aren't. At all. He believes good parenting is ensuring Q drinks milk and eats his peas. No joke. That's almost a direct quote. So I feel like I am single handedly responsible for the emotional health of my son. Right now, it's pretty easy. He's a four year old child who loves his mommy (I love that he is a momma's boy!) But in 10 years, he will be a 14 year old pubescent male, and I don't know how to help him through that. I need a role model for my son. An honourable man who will help my son become a man who is in tune with his emotions, and is not afraid of them. It scares the shit outta me that one day Q might be in therapy because I fucked him up. I worry that he might become exactly like his father. I worry that he might become the 'typical' guy who can't commit, fears emotions (his and hers) and belches the alphabet after downing a keg of beer. Okay, okay, some of it I have not ability to control, no matter how I raise him. But I worry that I can't give him the tools he requires to make a difference in this world. Hell, I worry I won't succeed in giving him the tools just to be a contributing member of society. Will he just remember that I bought him things because I wasn't able to spend as much time as I wanted with him? Or will he remember the time we spent together fondly, even scrubbing the toilet and folding the laundry? I pray for the latter, but fear the former. As we speak, he is watching Blue Planet, blissfully naiive and innocent and perfect. I wish he could stay like this forever. I wish I could protect him from worry and pain and sadness. I wish he could be my little boy forever. This brings me to dating. I feel guity dating. I have so little time with Q, it's hard to justify spending some of that time with someone else. Truth be told, I haven't found anyone that I'd rather spend my time with. Most of the time, I'm thinking about what I'd rather be doing with Q. But my chest physically hurts. It started about a week or so ago. After going through my list of things it could be (after all, I'm also a mild hypocondriac) pneumonia, lung cancer, swine flu...I realised what it really is. I'm lonely. I crave the love of a good man. I know I should be grateful. I have a wonderful, healthy son, a job that supports us, loving family and fabulous friends, but I have a void. I long for a partner to share, and it's become a dull ache in my chest that constantly reminds me every time I breathe that I am alone. The excitement over Q's new skateboard lasted about 15 minutes. Exactly half of that time was spent putting on elbow pads and knee pads and wrist guards and a helmet. He's like me in so many ways and this was no different. He expected to effortlessly step on the skateboard, glide down the street and then do a 360. Frustration ensued when it became evident this would require practice. He kept saying, "I'm not gonna give up, Mommy!" Tell ya what dude, I won't either.
Friday, May 1, 2009
I really like having guy friends, because they offer such a raw male perspective that you don't get from someone your dating. When you're friends, the boundaries are already established, the don't feel the need to impress you, and they realize that your friendship supersedes anything idiotic they may say. I truly believe that men and woman can just be friends - however - one or both has had the desire to sleep with the other at some point in the relationship. Said desire has never materialized and instead a friendship grew. Today I was having a deep conversation with a great guy friend. Okay, it wasn't deep, but it was about me, so it was at least interesting! He's like my brother, except he grabs my ass every now and again in a completely non-weird platonic kinda way (if ever that existed...) The topic that came up is why I'm still single, why it's so hard for me to meet men. He says 'Well, you're hot," like it's a bad thing. So, I ask for clarification..."aw, really, you do? Like how hot? Like on a scale of 1-10?" And he says, without thinking, obviously "a 7." After my, "really, a 7?" a little more thought process goes into his answer and he says, "well, with the ability to be a nine, of course, you know, when you put the effort into it." Oddly enough, I wasn't offended. Okay, so his opinion on why I'm still single. I'm hot, which we've established...and the qualities I emulate are the qualities I attract. I know that I have a strong personality. I have strong beliefs. I have a strong sense of self. If this is what I am putting out there, then it's a blessing that men who do not possess these qualities do not ask me out. One day, a guy fixing an escalator was checking me out and my friend said, "wow, it must suck...always getting hit on, but never the one they want to date." and it was tongue in cheek. But it's like always a bridesmaid, never the bride. Ugh, so while it's frustrating to still be alone, and I'm lonely and praying for my someone to show up, I'm willing to wait if it means I don't have to settle. The other night, I was cuddling with my son and he was trying to put his arm around my neck. When I asked him why he wanted to put his arm around me, he said, "because mommy, that's what boys do when they love girls." Maybe it's just as simple as that