Dear Quinn

Today, you are 10.

Double digits.

A decade.

I have so enjoyed getting to know you these past 10 years.  It has been the most fantastic journey and nothing in my life has compared to this experience, being your mom.  We've traveled through mama, mommy, and now here we've settled...mom.

I love that I know you inside out.  I know what makes you laugh (and how you laugh...it's bubbles out of you), what makes you sad.  I know how you deal with anger, and what makes you tick.  I know your hopes, your fears and everything in between.

I love our talks where you come out with the most insightful thoughts and ideas, and when I ask you where you heard them you say, "Just me...I have thoughts in my head, you know mom."  It gives me hope for the future, when it will be very, very important that you have your own thoughts in your head and that you've learned to listen to them so early on in life.  

I remember back to when you were just a baby, and then a toddler, and I would stare at you, wondering who you would grow to be.  It seemed it would take forever, and now it feels like it was just the blink of an eye.  Here you are 10 years old and I cannot imagine you any other way.  It feels as though I have known you forever.  You have always been a part of me, long before you were ever born and you will be until the end of time.  Of course you are who you are, who else would you be?

You have introduced me to the worlds of Pokemon, Beyblades, Skylanders, Lego, sharks, dinosaurs, cars, airplanes, soccer and hockey.  You have tested my patience and helped me (and it) grow.  You have made me laugh more than anyone I know.  You've made me cry a time or two as well, I'll admit.  You have held my hand.  You have pushed my boundaries.  You have brought me out of my comfort zone on many an occasion.  You have shown me how to love.  

You are honest, almost sometimes to a fault. You have a natural talent for sports, all sports.  You 'get' sarcasm, and have perfect comedic timing.  You have determination, and for a 10 year old, a very good plan for the future.  You understand things far beyond your years and part of me is sad that it's because you're an only child shuffled between two households.  I'm sad that I couldn't give you the life I had planned for you, with two parents together and tons of siblings running around annoying you.   But I do promise to do my best to help you make happy memories that you will cherish your whole life long.  I promise to teach you to do right by people.  I promise that I will help you through the terrible teens and the hormones and the acne and your very first broken heart.  I promise to help you make the right choices in life and help you grow with strong morals and values worthy of a man of honor, a man of his word .  I promise to teach you about God and Jesus and the gift of grace.  I promise to remind you to see the best in everything, and to notice the beauty in every little thing, like the mountains and the super moon, and a beautiful sunset.

You and me, Quinnie, we can get through anything.  

You are my greatest joy and my little love.  You are so loved, by your Momma, your Nana and Grandpa and Matana, your Auntie Alice and Uncle Steve, and your Papa.  We can't wait (well, I guess we can wait...please don't grow too fast) for the next decade, and the one after that, and the one after that.

And the one after that.

Happy, Happy Birthday, my love!

Happy Birthday to Q

My little bug turned nine last week.  Nine whole years of wonderfulness filled with Q.  I cannot imagine my life without him.  He makes everything better in a million different ways.

 

But....

 

I'm having a really hard time with Q turning 9. 

 

And going into grade 4.

 

I'm mourning the loss of my baby.  My toddler.  My little boy.

 

Because now he is 9.

 

His feet smell (worse than before)...

 

He'd rather hang out with his friends than with his momma.

 

He says I'm weird.  There was a time when he wanted to marry me - okay....so I guess it's a good thing he doesn't want to do that anymore - but still how do you go from that to *weird*?

 

He has opinions on everything from his hair (it's long) to his clothes (baggy). 

 

I'm flooded with memories of him being a baby lately, and it makes me so sad that I can barely remember the smell of his sweet skin, his new voice, his soft skin.  I miss holding him in my arms and rocking him to sleep.

 

Plus, he's going through this really annoying phase (Eeps, at least I hope it's a phase...).  It's like his goal every day is to annoy me.  He sass talks me.  He's loud. 

 

I guess that he's going through this little thing called...growing up.  Whether he or I like it or not, this is a process we cannot ignore or think won't happen.  I read somewhere that boys go through a testosterone surge at 2 (sooooo funny, my friends son started grunting everything at 2 - like from "owwww, I stubbed my toe" to "hi! how are you?") so maybe they go through another one at 9?

 

I am no longer the center of my son's universe.  I know it's normal for this to happen.  It's even really good for this to happen.  I knew it was coming all along.  But nothing could prepare me for it.  Especially because he is still the center of my universe. 

 

I am so dreading the teen years. 

 

At least I cannot legally leave him alone yet.

 

At least he can't drive.

 

Or drink.

 

Or do long division...

 

I guess we've got a while to go yet. 

 

And he still sleeps with his favourite blanket...

 

So, no matter what, he'll always be my baby.  Even though he can't see through his hair...

 

Happy Birthday to my beautiful (baby) boy!!

Anniversaries

Late Fall, early Winter is filled with anniversaries for me.  Whether good or bad, I cannot stop them from coming every year.  They make me who I am and so I guess I should be grateful for them, because I am overwhelmed with gratitude for the person I have become and everything I have been blessed with.

Two years ago, on October 23, I quit smoking.  Probably one of my proudest accomplishments - besides Q, of course - because of how incredibly hard it was to quit.  I watched "Flight" recently and a commiserated with two of the characters who struggled with addiction - knowing how bad something is for you, and yet craving it with all your being.   Two years later, I still miss smoking.  I still crave nicotine.  But the benefits outweigh the cravings.  My circulation is incredible - my hands and feet are almost always warm.  I rarely am short of breath.  I haven't had a cough in ages.  My headaches are down.  I guess the only downside of not smoking is my weight is up.  My biggest mental hurdle with quitting was the idea that I *wasn't allowed* to smoke and that bugged me because, I'm an adult, dammit...if I want to eat ice cream for dinner and then smoke a pack of cigarettes, so be it.  I can do what I want.  A valuable lesson - just because we can, doesn't mean we should...

Six years ago in December, I officially became a single parent.  I say 'officially' because it sure felt like I was one waaaaay before that.  Six years ago, I had a two and a half year old toddler, lived in a one bedroom basement suite, had borrowed $300 from my ex for a security deposit, and had about $10,000 more in debt.  I know it sounds really depressing that we split over Christmas, but really it was the greatest gift I ever gave myself.  The only disappointment is that I'm still single, six years on.  Way back then, I had the hope of a healthy marriage, maybe some more babies.  That hope is dwindling.

Eight years ago in October, I was a new mom diagnosed with post partum depression and went through the most horrible time of my whole entire life.  I know that it was eight years ago, and most people probably would have moved on by now, but I remember because it makes me who I am.  It reminds me to have compassion for others, because you never know their struggles.  It keeps me humble.  It reminds me how fragile our minds are, and how we need to protect ourselves.  It reminds me of how much I have overcome.  It reminds me how blessed I am to have a beautiful child, who is a true treasure in my life.  I truly hope that I never forget where I was eight years ago, because if I do, I might lose who I am today.

Thirty five years ago, in the middle of November I was born.  Thirty five years.  I think we need to pause for a moment of silence as we reflect on all those years...gone.  Just gone...

*Poof*

In years past, I have welcomed my birthday with excitement.  As a child, I wished to be older.  And now it is so.  I am 35 in one week. T-H-I-R-T-Y  F-I-V-E.  It seems so old.  I was talking to a couple of my employees the other day, and age came up...they were 23 and 24.  It might have come up that I was a *cougar*.  The worst part of being thirty five is that nothing I do will stop it.  I can ignore my birthday (which I most definitely will do), I can lie about my age (it's in the plan..), but no matter what I do, I will still be 35.  It literally fills me with fear when I think about it.  I want to puke and I get the chills and my heart rate gets faster.  I literally experience a panic attack when I think about 35.  This might be a midlife crisis. 

It's not even that I'm evaluating my life and I'm disappointed with what I see.  I mean, I did hope to be married by 35, but other than that, I'm quite content with who I am and where I've been.  It's just that....well, if you must know...I'm totally over my mini skirt wearing days.  I'm finding more greys and more wrinkles every day. 

I'm reminded that life is finite.

A Party Fit for a Super Hero

There are three times in a year that I get to use my creative juices for good.  Well, I have an excuse to go all out and spend ridiculous amounts of time crafting...Christmas (I make my own cards), Halloween (I make Q's costume), and Q's Birthday.  Q was born on August 13, 2004 at 21:51 hrs.  So, ya...I'm like a week late.  But the curse of a summer baby...everyone is away during his birthday, every year.  This year, he wanted a Super Hero Theme.  I was pretty excited.  This would be fun!  Making the invitations would be super fun (pardon the pun).  I was super stoked...

Until Q said, "Oh, but Mommy I wanted to buy the invitations this year..."  I'm not gonna lie, my heart sank a little.  I was able to get around that by sending e-mails instead of buying them.  Ha ha.  I should have taken the out, though, because by the time I bought all the raw *materials* it would have been waaaay cheaper to buy everything.  But not nearly as fun.  Of course.

So, for the goodie bags, I bought good ol' paper bags from the dollar store.  Thirty for a dollar.  Gotta love a deal.  Then I found logos for the different Super Hero's Q likes from the Internet to make templates.  They took forever.  Especially the Hulk.  That one was just tedious.  Superman was the hardest though.

I used the same template for the table cloth.  Bought a blue one from the dollar store (again...Yay!!) and stuck the logos all over it.  Along with a KA-POW!!, BANG!, WHAM! and SWOOSH (this idea came to me at 2:00am last night while I was trying to fall asleep (must have been the coffee I had before I went to bed...Nah!)  My brother pointed out that *Swoosh* has been copyrighted by Nike, so please don't tell them I used their trademark.  Thanks.

The balloon idea would have worked a little better if I had used helium, but I have something against buying *air*, even if it does make you talk funny when you suck it in.  So, I (read: my brother) blew up a whole bunch of Super Hero coloured balloons and then I took a whole bunch of green ones with a black one, tied them all together and slapped a Hulk logo on it.  Did the same for Spiderman, Superman, and Batman.  My fabulous brother also pointed out that I mixed Marvel Super Heroes and DC Super Heroes for any of you comic buffs out there who've noticed the same.  I don't know the difference.  They all go around saving the world in tights, so it's all the same to me.  Now if you were talking Gucci vs. Prada I'd totally get it.

The one thing that I didn't make was the cake.  I really am okay with admitting my weaknesses and baking is one of them.  I didn't think that 8 mothers really wanted me sending their kids home with e-coli or salmonella or anything of the sort.  I also didn't want to hear any, "This cake tastes awful" so Q and I went to order a Spiderman cake.  Can you see it?  The picture is a little small.  It was pretty cool, though.

The only thing I didn't plan for was rain.  Even though I had been religiously checking the forecast every 5 minutes for the past week and every 5 minutes it said it was going to RAIN.  But Plan B's are for smucks, I think...well...that and McDonalds needed 10 days notice (and nine bucks per kid...isn't a happy meal like $3.95?).  My Plan B consisted of having all 10 six year old's in my house playing games like "Pin the Mask on the Super Hero" and "Who am I - Super Hero Edition". 

I know.  Like Super lame, right?

I woke up to rain.  There was something about me that really wanted to check the forecast even though it was clearly raining, and it said that it wasn't going to rain.  The forecast is never, ever wrong, right?  So, I threw Plan B out the window and off to the water park we went. 

Where it rained.

Well, rain is an exaggeration.  It kind of sprinkled.  We found a party wrapping up, so we hovered until they got really uncomfortable and we had our stuff moved in before they had left.  Hey, it's a dog eat dog world in the birthday world.  Let me tell you. 

The rain clouds dispersed.  The sun came out.  The party was a success.  The great thing about having an outdoor party at a park is you don't have to plan any games to keep the kids entertained.  They played soccer, they went to the park, before I knew it, the party was over. 

And my baby is officially six.  Where does the time go?