Friday, January 15, 2010


First and foremost, my apologies for being an absent blogger.  I know how you, my faithful thirteen followers,  hold your breath for each and every little gem of wisdom written by yours truly (haha)!!  While it's true I've packing, working full time, picking paint colours for the new home, volunteering in Q's school, and of course, parenting full time...I've also developed a ridiculous addiction to Webkinz.

Have you heard about Webkinz? 

Okay.  Briefly, I will explain the lure of the Webkinz world.  It all begins when you buy a cute little stuffed animal, and with this animal comes an online code that allows you to "adopt" the little guy in a surreal online world.  You make a house for the lil fella, complete with flushing toliets and blending blenders.  You can wall paper the walls, and tile the floors.   And they have these games to play that help you rack up the money so you can buy all these crazy things.  It's the games that have me (although, I have to admit, I've caught myself freaking out at Q for buying a certain fridge when he already had one.  Seriously, who needs two fridges?)  They're like online adult games only way easier because they're supposed to be for kids.  It's great!  I can (and do...) spend hours playing Pile 'Em Up Solitaire!!  Oh yes.  I said Solitaire!  The only problem I've encountered so far is explaining to Q why mommy is playing his games and spending his Kinzcash...

The other reason for my absence is that I was reading a book.  A really, really good book.  A year or so ago, I bought Elizabeth Gilbert's "Eat, Pray, Love".  For the first six chapters I bawled.  Bawled.  Like a baby.  I could so identify with the anguish that filled those chapters.  I, too, found myself at one point in my life curled up in the middle of the night on the cold bathroom floor sobbing as my life fell apart around me.  I read as this amazing woman picked herself up and rebuilt her soul while travelling the world.  To be honest, my idea of hell is backpacking through India, Indonesia and Italy.  I often joke that my idea of 'roughing it' is a Motel 8 instead of a 5 star hotel.  Hostels are smelly, and the only things I think I would find in such a place are disgusting tropical bugs and cockroaches and rats (shudder).  But her journey of self discovery was fascinating, inspiring, and encouraging. 

So, you can imagine my pure delight when I found out that Ms. Gilbert had published another book, kind of a follow up to the first.  "Committed. A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage"  I will have you know I was in line buying that book the first day it was released.  Let me say this, the book does not disappoint.  I've never really had a problem with marriage myself...well, except for the fact that I've never been married, nor does it seem as though anyone wishes to marry me, but other than that I'm totally okay with marriage.  In fact ever since I was a little girl that is all I ever wanted to do - be married.  And be a mother.  To the extent that when ever anyone asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I'd make something up - like a teacher or a nurse.  In an era where women everywhere were fighting for the right to go to university and have careers (and get paid the same as their male counterparts...) it seemed so silly that all I wanted was to get married and be a wife and a mother.  But really, truly, that's all I wanted.  My career now, I've kind of fallen into and given the opportunity - when (and if) I grow up I still want to be a wife and a mother.

Ironically, reading how this skeptic made peace with  her impending marriage has helped me make peace with my ever looming singledom.  The book follows her trek through Southeast Asia where she bides her time speaking women from all walks of life about their views on marriage.  She's looking for a formula that will guarantee a happy marriage. In the smallest communities in Southeast Asia where divorce rates are next to nil, the secret to a happy marriage was this...creating a life filled with love.  Duh, right?  Here's the thing....not just the love of their husbands.  But their children, their own mothers, their aunts, their cousins, their nieces and nephews, their neighbours, their friends, their hobbies, their work, their homes.  And it hit me.  I've been waiting for the love of a man to complete my life, but when I look around me - my life is complete.  It is fabulously complete.  Falling in love isn't nearly as important as being loved.  Loved by my mother, my father, my child, my kindred spirits, my God .  Falling in love isn't nearly as important as loving those around me.  Loving my life, loving my career, my home and my child. 

I have to stop waiting.

Start living.  Really living.  Breathing in the sweet air right before the rain, watching the sunset, drinking in the smell of my child.  While I don't think I've ever really missed out on these experiences, I do know that I've never really looked at them as the complete story.  It just always seemed as though by being a wife they would be more special.  I look around me, and my life is complete.  I am content. 

Read the book.  Read them both, if you haven't read the first.  Enjoy the journey

1 comment:

  1. What a wonderful blog. It makes me think. Maybe I should stop waiting to win lotto, too.

    You are such a great writer. Keep it up. Enjoy that too.