Saturday, April 30, 2011

Feelings, Nothing More than.....oh, Whatever....

Holy Moly, what an emotional week.

I would suggest not moving while PMS-ing.  It would probably be way easier.  It would most likely eliminate the overwhelming desire to ram your vehicle into the vehicle in front of you over and over and over.  And then backing up into the one behind you a time or two and then laughing as you speed away.  To be clear, I did not do this, not even once, but I really, really had to talk myself out of it.  More than once. 

I was all *smarty pants* about labelling the boxes and stuff...but you know after a while, you just get fed up with packing and labelling and making sure you've taped the box correctly, and you just start throwing things in boxes and slapping tape everywhere, thinking, "Oh, I'll totally remember what's in this one."  And then you realize you've got a trabillion boxes that all look the same.  Then, it's 11pm in the new house and you're going through every single effing box trying to find a tampon.  Just one.  But no, you couldn't be bothered to label that box.  You couldn't even be bothered to have packed the tampons with other bathroom things, because that would have been way too simple.  I'm half tempted to just keep everything in boxes and buy new.  Budget be damned.  Next time I move, I'm hiring a moving company, a cleaning crew, going on a cruise and returning when it's over.  Of course, moving is stressful but that was really just one tiny part of an all round emotional week.

For instance, I got really emotional when I went to pick up my son from his father's with a few boxes in the back seat that Q had to rest his feet on.  I guess my ex is trying to win the father of the year award, because he totally freaked out that I was putting my child in an unsafe situation.  I'm not sure if he was more concerned that Q would get a paper cut or a muscle cramp but the man made me take all the boxes out of the car in the pouring rain and repack them.  Oh I was furious.  Livid.  First of all, suggesting that I would put my son in a situation that would compromise his well being totally set me off, but to suggest it in front of my son, well...I saw red.  Nothing is more important to me than my son's safety, but just as important is my son's confidence that he is safe in my care.  I am happy to report that we got the whole way home without one paper cut, so woot woot for me, right?

Also emotional - a sad story that I'm sure happens much too often, hitting much too close to home.  Before the spring break, Q brought home a letter from the principle saying that a family in his school had been in a horrific car accident that had taken the life of the mother, injured the father, and both daughters were fighting for their lives.  This in itself was horrible, but really they were words on a page.  This past Tuesday, the two little girls - one in kindergarten, one in grade 2 - returned to school, both in wheel chairs.  Their father escorting them on crutches.  It just absolutely broke my heart.  I just wanted to scoop the whole family up and give them a great big hug.  It brought home how fragile we all are, and just how finite life really is.

Third emotional wreck moment was the Royal Wedding.  I know lots of people who think it's ridiculous - all the pomp and circumstance over two people getting married, but I disagree.  First of all, what little girl hasn't dreamed of growing up and marrying a Prince?  So when Princess Catherine married Prince William, really a little part of all us *little girls* were standing up there right along with her.  Secondly, my heart just broke that Princess Diana wasn't there to see her Wills all grown up.  I really do think she'd be proud of the man he's become, and he really truly looks as though he's madly in love with his bride.  We all remember, I'm sure, the sullen little boys following their mother's casket and to see them grown and happy and handsome really just made a mother's heart happy. 

Living in the uber-multicultural Canada, it's so fascinating to see so many different cultures and all the traditions that are represented.  Watching the Royal Wedding made me feel part of a culture rich with history and tradition of its own, and there's nothing wrong with that (I am half brit, ya know).  I still remember where I was when Princess Di married Prince Charles (in a motel on a family vacation on our way *back home* to Ontario) and getting goose bumps when she walked down the aisle.  I was only four.  That's probably one of my first memories. 

So, an emotional wreck kind of a week.  I've been blessed with a little boy who is growing way to fast, whom I love so, so much.  Sometimes I feel like my heart might burst with love for him.  I said to him the other day (as I always do...)

Me: Do you know how much I love you?

Q usually responds, "How much, Mommy?"  and I say, "More than you'll ever know" but this day, he said

Q:  Ya...

Me: How much?

Q:  Too much... say tomato, I say tomatoe...

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