Someone Turned Onety One (or eleven...for those of you who are normal...)

It seem as though this blog has kind of morphed into a once a year check-in / birthday letter to Q.  Truth be told, I've gone through a bit of a writer's block and life has just become a routine of work, hockey (for Q...def not me), school, sleep, eat and repeat.  No one wants to read about that on a blog.

 

But lately we've gone through a lot of changes - well, to be more specific, Q has gone through a lot of changes lately and my hope is that if I write about it, I might stop bursting into tears at random, inappropriate times.  (p.s. I am not a crier...)

 

See, my Q is growing up and the past few months have been both beautiful and devastating for me all at the same time. 

 

Q is eleven and for us, that means spending weeks away from home with the grandparents - all of them.  It means sitting in the front passenger seat of the car.  It means FLYING in an AIRPLANE all by himself.  It means staying home alone after school.  It means owning a cell phone (for safety while being home alone).

 

This is beautiful and exciting, because Q is doing exactly what he should be doing.  He's growing up.  He's following the path that many boys have walked before him on their way to becoming a man.  And who am I kidding?  We all know I'd probably be freaking out if he weren't meeting these milestones with such perfect timing and accuracy.  None of it has been forced either, my Q is eagerly jumping from milestone to milestone, barely stopping to take a breath.  And he's not just growing personally.  He's physically growing...and that makes my bank account cry. 

 

We've had so many great conversations lately.  He is such a smart insightful kid.  He's an old soul and some of the things he says actually make me think about the choices I am making in my life.  While he was in Calgary, we had some awesome text talks.  One day he asked what I was doing and I told him I was just watching a movie because all my friends were out of town and I had no one to go to the beach with. 

 

He texted, "Maybe it's time you made a few more friends."

 

And maybe he's right.

 

The past 11 years I have devoted my life to Q.  Where I live, where I work, is all because of Q. And I have willingly given most of my spare time to him - because it's just him and me, I've been blessed enough to have that time to give to him.  I've not really dated.  My hobbies are relatively fluid (as in, I can read in a hockey rink while he's practicing).  My friends are used to either Q coming with me, or me bailing at the last minute.

 

Q doesn't need me as much anymore. 

 

And I'm completely lost.

 

This is the sad thing for me.  I don't know who I am if I'm not *little* Q's mom.  I've loved being needed by him and the center of his little universe and it makes me so sad that his universe is getting bigger and bigger.  I have shed many a tear over this.  I am mourning the loss of my baby.  (geez, am I being like seriously overly dramatic?!?!?!)  I don't know if it's different for women who are married or who have more than one child - because they have a spouse or other children to distract them. 

 

But if every woman goes through this, I can completely understand why we have the reputation of being crazy emotional. 

 

Because if you pulled up beside me at the stop light yesterday, you would have wondered why that red light made me cry.

 

I'm super proud of my boy.  He's becoming such a great *person*, you know...not just a little boy, but a person.. 

 

I will leave you with one little story... While texting me on his trip to Calgary with the grand-parentals, he asked what I was doing.

 

me:  I'm watching 'Far From the Madding Crowd'.  It's about a woman who has 3 men who fall in love with her.

 

Q:  Weird

 

me:  Well, yes.  It's definitely not a movie you'd want to watch 

 

me:  Who doesn't want 3 men to fall in love with them?

 

Q:  Would you?

 

me: No.  Probably not.  It causes her many problems

 

Q:  Ya.  That's what I mean

 

me: Ha.  You're very smart

 

Q: Ya

 

(and yes, I use punctuation in texts..)

Ode to 2013 - A Great Year in Review

Well it's been a while since I've been here...I wonder if I remember how to do this...

Life has been crazy these last few months, and finding time to pour out my heart is difficult.  I mean, there's that, and I'm also addicted to Candy Crush.  Seriously.  Addicted.  It's not just blogging, I haven't read a book in months.  I remember really liking books.  Reading them, smelling them, spending the evening with them.  I miss books. 

I thought it was really important to chronicle 2013.  Probably way more important to me than you, but hopefully you'll enjoy the read regardless.  

2013 was a year of new beginnings. My momma got married (!) and my brother and his wife had a beautiful baby girl, their first (of many??) and my first niece.  I know that I'm a tad biased, but folks, I am telling you this is the most beautiful baby girl in the world.  One of the many benefits of being an introvert is the immense joy that I receive living vicariously through others.  No joke.  I couldn't have been any happier in these situations if they had actually happened to me.  

So Q and I downsized from a four bedroom, 3 bathroom house to a 2 bedroom, 1 bathroom suite.  I thought I would feel claustrophobic in our new digs, but I actually found that I love the smaller space.  First and foremost, the cleaning takes me roughly 1/4 of the time to clean and secondly, it is just so cozy.  It's also encouraged me to purge and put less emphasis on *things* (and gives me so much more time to play Candy Crush...kidding...sort of...)

I started a new job.  It was such a great opportunity and I was in sooooo far over my head.  But you know what?  I made it through.  I learned that my capacity to learn new things is great, and this gave me so much confidence in myself.  I had a great year and enjoyed every second of it.  Then I got an even better job and had to decide between two awesome job opportunities.  Seriously.  Would you like this completely awesome job that you know you love, or would you like this new one that has the potential to be even more amazing?  How do you make a decision like that without thinking you might be missing out on something no matter which choice you make?

And those were just the physical life changing events.

I know, right?

All that, and some personal growth too?  What?!?!?!?!  Who gets that lucky?? 

2013 was a year of calm for me.  As a natural born anxiety case, this is really saying something.  There was no insane drama.  There was no unnecessary stress.  There was only calm.  

I spent a lot of time alone and came to terms with my introvert qualities.  I never really though of myself as an introvert, but the older I get, the more I enjoy quality time with myself.  Nothing delights me more than an evening alone.  I used to feel guilty about this - like I should be out with *people* doing *things*.  But spending time by myself has given me a deeper insight to me...and there can't be anything wrong with that.  I'd rather be alone than in a room full of people I can't relate to or having nothing in common with.  

I got to spend another year getting to know and getting to teach this wonderful child I'm blessed enough to call my son.  I can think of no greater reward or blessing in my life than my child.  Sometimes it's the smallest thing that gives me the greatest surge of pride, like when I give him something inconsequential and he says, "Thank you".  Nothing sounds better than "Mommy" and "I love you" and "Sweet dreams".  Just recently, over Christmas, Q was super sick with the stomach flu.  Amidst cancelled Christmas plans, I'm running around cleaning up his puke, and washing bedding and clothes, and checking his temperature, and bringing him ginger ale and I think to myself, "I freaking love being a mom".  Seriously, there is no greater gift than being able to take care of my child.  Gah, his whole life is ahead of him and I just know he is destined for great things and I want to give him the best beginning ever.  I just want to have a million kids and give them all the best start ever.  I just don't want to give birth to all these kids and there are sooooooo many kids out there that need someone to give them their best start.  I know that this is what I'm here on earth to do.  I don't want anyone to waste their potential because someone says they can't, or they're not worth it, or they're not wanted.  I want to WANT all those children in our foster care system, and give them love.

Oh....so corny, right?  I wish more people felt that way though.  You know, share the blessings around.  

But, C, what about the boyfriend....there must be one of those, right???

Nope.  Nope, there isn't.  And for the first time in my whole life, I can honestly and certainly say that I am TOTALLY okay with that.  Totally.  It's funny because this is a pretty significant life situation for most people - easily 2/3 of my friends are married or dating.  I mean, what would life be without romantic comedies?  What would Pinterest be without a "One Day" board?  What would Martha Stewart be without "Weddings" magazine?  Our whole society has placed a fair importance on being married, being doubled up, having a better half.  And don't get me wrong, I am so not opposed to it happening to me should that be the case, but I am so content with my life the way it is.  I am okay with me the way I am.  I don't need anyone else to complete me or my life.  I've been able to spend this time with my son.  Watching him grow and learn and be.  We have a really unique bond and connection to each other because it's just the two of us.  I remember falling asleep to the fantasy of finding the perfect man and having the perfect wedding and the perfect marriage.  Or looking at every man I passed, wondering, "Is he the one?"  And there's nothing wrong with having an active imagination, but wishing your life away is more of a waste than playing Candy Crush, in my opinion.  And I see God providing for me in a million other ways that make me so happy to be me. It's kind of like He's saying, "It's not time yet for you to have a husband, but in the meantime, would you like this blessing that will help provide for your needs??"  Uh. Ya.  Totally

I've become so much more spiritual.  And I don't mean yoga and feng shui.  Christians these days get such a bad (somewhat well deserved, though) rap about being these judgmental, self righteous, pious individuals whose belief is something so out there/naive/supernatural that makes them better than anyone else.  I don't want to be that person.  Ever.  I would agree that believing in a God who lovingly created each one of us in his image, then sent his one and only Son to die for our sins (because ugh, we are not perfect and we screw up soooo much) so that we could have eternal life in heaven where the streets are made of gold is pretty crazy.  On an almost a daily basis, I ask myself if I'm sure that's me.  And each time, I cannot find anything else that seems plausible to me.  I'm not stupid.  I've heard the big bang theory.  But at the end of the day, I choose to believe this instead.  Loving, well thought out, bigger plan, grace and mercy sounds so much more wonderful to me than BOOM!!! here we are, this organism reacted with this blob that became that blob and then millions of years later, here I am...a blob.  I try to live life like this:  Before I do anything, I ask myself two things, "How would Jesus react to this situation?" and "Will this right now matter when I'm in heaven?"  And then I try to do likewise.  At the end of the day, an eternity in heaven when I die sounds a whole lot more comforting than just ceasing to exist.

Okay, so what does that mean?  That means that when the Landlord fails to shovel my walk after a (relative to Vancouver) snow storm, I don't rant and rave about how careless and irresponsible he is for a home owner with a paying tenant (because this whole event won't matter when I'm in heaven).  Instead, I get the shovel and shovel my walk and his (because this is what I imagine Jesus would do, and while the snow pile won't matter in heaven, my reaction to it certainly will.)  I try to meet every situation with this formula.  Homeless person on the street asks for money, I go into to coffee shop and buy him a hot coffee and some chili.  He gets a full belly of food, and I know he's not buying booze (which, in my experience, don't really go well on an empty tummy).  

I don't want to judge.  I want to love.  I want my love to be contagious.  I want my love to be inspirational.  I want to be the example of someone who has been saved by grace.  If that makes me silly or naive, well I'm okay with that.  Totally.  At the end of the world, if I'm wrong, I will not regret my choice to live life the way I did.  And in the meantime, no one will (hopefully) be affected negatively by my decision.  And, I know from experience that living this way is so much more fulfilling than drinking myself into a coma or sleeping with another man who tells me, "It's just sex."

* Please note:  This does not mean I will not drop the occasional f bomb while sitting in rush hour traffic.

Phew...see what happens when you don't write for a while??  A novel comes out.

It almost seems like the end to Single Dating Mommy, because that's not what defines me anymore.  Not just the end of the chapter, but the end of this book.  Unfortunately, "Mommy" doesn't really have the same ring to it.  It's a little short for a blog title.  So I might keep the name, but I assure you, the content will not be the same.  

Will you join me in my new journey?  I sure hope so!!

And...here's to 2014!

Hey, You Big Bully

I feel like my last post seemed really judgemental.  It wasn't meant to be.  I mean, seriously, I feel like I've been judged enough in my life.  It's a horrible feeling.  It was more meant to be an observation.  People in this world are hurting and they'll do what ever makes sense to them in order to feel happy and to feel alive.  And I am not judging them.  I get it.  I really, really do. 

 

So, tomorrow is anti-bullying day in Vancouver.  I'm not sure if it's just a BC thing or if it's country wide or what, but we'll all don pink shirts in support of everyone who has ever been bullied. We all stand up together and we say, "No, it is not okay."

 

I've been bullied.  I remember as a kid in elementary school, my best friend all through out grades 1-6 became 'popular' and I didn't.  Her new friends were not friendly to me at all. 

 

I've bullied.  I remember when I was in my tweens, inviting a girl to my birthday just because a friend had to cancel at the last minute.  I was super mean to that girl.  I still feel horrible about how mean I was to her.

 

I totally agree that bullying is horrible and needs to stop.  I just wonder if we've over advertised bullying to the point where kids don't even know what real bullying really means.  Q often comes home from school and says he's been bullied by so and so over such and such.  Every single time, this kid has kind of gotten the idea wrong...."So and so got mad at me..." or "Such and such is so bossy..." or "This person said he didn't like what I brought for sharing."  I'm like, Dude, people are allowed to have opinions that are different than yours.  Just because he likes different things doesn't mean he's bullying you.  Or just because someone starts bossing you around doesn't mean he's a bully.  It means you need to stand up and speak your mind too.

 

It seems to me as though kids think any form of adversity is bullying.  And it seems to me that by glorifying bullying we're allowing kids to play the victim.  And I can't speak for all the other parents of all the other kids out there, but I will not allow my kid to be the victim.  He needs to find his voice, and stand up to people.  Instead of being anti-bully, I am totally pro-strength. 

 

Q and I have had the opportunity to have some pretty awesome discussions around bullying.  Because here's the thing...every bully has a reason why he/she is a bully.  People don't just wake up one day thinking they're going to be mean.  Something pivotal happens in every life that makes a person a bully.  For example, Q has a *friend* who says he's the best ball hockey player ever and everyone wants him on his team and he scores all the goals.  But then Q realizes that this boy doesn't even know the rules of the game and he wonders aloud to me, "Why would he lie about something like that?"

 

Feelings of inadequacy, the desire to be something you're not or something more start really, really early.  Those feelings start when you're 8 years old.  Why can't we address that?  Why can't we talk about the fact that Q's friend is a habitual liar at 8 to make himself look/feel better?  Why can't we wear a yellow shirt or a purple shirt in support of every body being able to find the strength to be who they really are?  And why does it have to be so early?

 

Let's address the parents that aren't giving their children the attention or the validation they so desperately desire.  Let's address the fact that children are bully's because someone somewhere doesn't care about this little life with the care that they deserve. 

 

Bullying makes me mad, absolutely it does.  But the bully makes me sad.  It breaks my heart. 

 

So yes, let's say "No" to bullying.  But can we take care of the bully too?  If bullying starts with 8 year olds...can we take care of an 8 year old?  Can we take care of their hearts?  Can we get them to the point where we they don't need to be a bully in order to feel better about themselves?

 

Can we do that?

Lessons From my Son (Who is 8...) and Q-isms

Okay, so my kid is brilliant. 

 

And hilarious. 

 

And I haven't done a 'Q-isms' for a while, so this is a whole bunch of his wisdom all in one post.

 

Q:  I'm think I'm going to have two kids.  A boy first and then a girl.  I'm going to name the boy Joe and the girl Maria.

 

Me:  Why Joe and Maria?

 

Q:  I don't know.  I just really like those names.  But I guess if I had twins, I let my wife name one and I'd name the other.

 

Huh, sounds fair.  I didn't know 8 year olds thought about things like that.

 

Q:  I'm getting married in the Dominican Republic

 

Let me tell you this is a far cry from his destination of choice last year, which was Russia...

 

Q's Daddy:  What if your wife doesn't want to get married in the Dominican Republic?

 

Q:  Well, she can go where ever she wants, but I'm going to the Dominican. 

 

Q's Daddy:  How could you get married then?

 

Q:  Uh, she could call me...we could get married over the phone.

 

Ahhhhh, romantic just like his father...

 

Q:  I'm going to stay at my school until high school, and then I've decided to go to Seaquam, not Tamawanis.  Then I can go to school with S and B.

 

Again, do 8 year old boys plan their future like this kid?  Last week we spent an hour in a book store while he looked for books.  This in and of itself is not exactly odd behavior for a child, but he went around straightening all the books on the shelves as he was looking for books.  He didn't even notice he was doing it.

 

Last week he came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth, with a huge smile on his face and said, "Mommy, look!!!  If I curl the toothpaste tube from the end, it pushes the toothpaste to the end.  It looks so much neater!"  Seriously, could I be any more proud??  I know, I asked myself that question but then he asked me if we could clean his bedroom and give away any toys and/or clothes that he didn't use anymore...and I think my heart burst with joy.  Where did this kid come from?

 

So a few months ago, Q began telling me and his dad how he was going to be in the NHL when he was older.  I smiled to myself thinking how wonderful the dreams of young children are.  They have the whole world ahead of them and really can dream as big as they want.  But then, he started saying he wasn't going to University because he was pretty sure he would already be playing for BCHL and wouldn't have time to do both.

 

We put him in skating lessons shortly thereafter. 

 

Listen, I don't know if he's going to be in the NHL.  He's 8.  He could change his mind a million times over between now and the time he has to choose a career.  Truthfully, I still don't know what I want to be, and I'm 35.  What I do know is that I'm going to do everything I can to try and make sure all his dreams come true. 

 

Granted, he is starting pretty late if he wants to play professional hockey.  Most kids start skating as soon as they can walk, it seems and they're playing hockey by the time they're 4 or 5.  Q starting at 8 is a little late.  Not only that, he has had to start from the very beginning.  My heart ached for him, watching those first few skating lessons.  Frustration was written all over his face.  It was not easy.  He fell.  A lot.  His muscles hurt.  A lot.  There were kids who were way better than him, and that is really hard for a perfectionist.  (Just like me!!)  He really wanted to be a 'hockey player' and every time he'd get cocky and do some smooth move, he'd fall or trip or lose his balance.

 

I went and watched Q at his hockey practice tonight, and I have to say, that kid has come a long way.  I am continually amazed by the lessons I learn from my child.  We really are capable of so much more than we give ourselves credit for.  Practice and perseverance.  That's all it takes.  If we want something badly enough, practice and persevere.  I think of how many times I say, "I can't do that..."  I really, really can.  You really can.  The question is really, "How badly do you want it?"

 

We've been practicing spelling since grade one.  Ugh.  I'm not going to lie, it's been painful.  I am not even exaggerating when I tell you we've spent a hour and a half every night of the week studying for his spelling tests, just for him to still get half of them wrong.  There would be crying.  And sometimes, it was Q.  There would be yelling.  There would be, "Mommy.  Are you getting mad yet?" Because we both knew it was coming. 

 

But we persevered.  People kept saying, "It will click.  It will click." I didn't really believe it.  I was super glad that spell check existed and the iPhone literally finishes your words for you.  I knew Q would be okay.  He wouldn't be an English Professor, but he wouldn't be playing guitar at the subway station either. 

 

We kept practicing.  Oh. My. Goodness. You guys!!!!!  Something just clicked!!  Lately, we've been spending 10 minutes a night on spelling.  10 minutes!!  And he gets 100% on the tests.  Something just clicked!  If he gets one wrong, it's because he had a "brain fart" (his words).  See what practice and perseverance can do?!?!?!  I'm seriously reconsidering everything in my life.  Everything I've said I cannot do.  I'm not really giving myself enough credit. 

 

Q...he's an introvert.  He's quiet until he gets to know you.  He's a perfectionist.  He's determined, though and my heart is sooooo happy because he believes he's worth it.  He's worth all the practice and all the frustration and all the falling down and all the spelling mistakes.  He's worth it.  And he knows he's worth it.

 

Do you know you're worth it?  What are you holding back on because you think you can't???  I'm compiling my list right now.  Specifically, I'm feeling completely overwhelmed in this new job and wondering if I've made a mistake.  Am I capable of even doing this job?  I am going to take a lesson from my kid, though, and persevere.

 

And now I leave you with an awesome picture of my awesome child.

 

 

 

Christian, Julia and Jayden

Social media has totally changed our world. 

I know, this is earth shattering news, isn't it?  Like you haven't noticed.  But bear with me...I'm not about to write a whole post stating the obvious (but that would be fun, wouldn't it???)

I was watching the News the other day.  This is odd for me.  I don't watch the News.  It's too depressing.  As someone who suffers from anxiety, watching a whole hour of people dying and fighting and bombing and raping and shooting is just too much for me.  I choose to not fill my mind with awful things.  It mean that I'm sometimes the last to know certain *big* events (like, did you know Obama got reelected for a second term!! Wow, Way to Go, Obama!!  Okay just joking, I knew that.) 

Anyways, I think I was getting my nails done and they had the News on.  Holy moly people, things have changed.  They want you to tweet them.  Twitter hasn't really caught on with me, it's too invested.  Who has the time to tweet what they're thinking every five seconds??  We've already established my mind goes a mile a second, so I'd be switching it up like all. the. time.  I wouldn't have time to do anything but tweet.  The stress to be witty all the time, too - that would kill me.  They want you to follow them on Facebook.  They want you to send in videos from your iPhone or smart phone - they basically want you to do their jobs for them, I think.  It's become much more interactive though, I guess in an attempt to stay relevant in a world where every answer to any question is just a Google away.

People use You Tube to post their *own* music videos and hope to be discovered.  People publish their own books without the need for a editor or publisher (not always the best idea...but done none the less).  People get University educations on-line.  People meet their husbands/wives on dating sites.  I even read an article about people using Craigslist for adoption instead of an agency.

People blog.  I know, right?  Totally foreign idea to me.

The amazing thing about blogging and following blogs is that you get to *meet* so many people from so many different walks of life.  I have a follower from India!!  I have a mentor in Washington.  I have fellow mom followers.  I have single women followers.  I follow a single momma from Germany!  I follow a 22 year old mother of 13 (!!) adopted children in Africa.  Once a day or once a week, I am invited into their home and into their lives via my computer screen. 

The written word has long been valued for its depth, its beauty and its power to move and convict its followers. 

*Phew*

That was a long introduction to my point, wasn't it!?!?!

Through Facebook and through Blogger, I have been following the fight of two (now three) young children and their families who have courageously stared cancer in its ugly, evil face.  One family is a childhood friend that Facebook reconnected me with, who's daughter, Julia, was diagnosed with a tumour in her nasal cavity.  The second family, I've blogged about before, after finding his Mother's blog about her beautiful son Christian, who's tummy was riddled with tumours.  The third is a little boy - I 'met' through a Facebook support page started for Christian - named Jayden who is fighting tumours throughout his whole body.

These three children and their families have changed my life forever.  It is hard to imagine that your life could be changed by someone you've never physically met before, isn't it?  Before the Facebook and Blogging and Twitter, there wasn't much of an opportunity for this to be the case.  But my life has been forever changed for the better, because of three brave children.  I love these children.  I love their families.  My heart rejoices with their triumphs and sinks with their set backs. 

The faith that has been shown by these families in the face of utter devastation has touched my heart.  I find with my perfect little life, with my healthy happy child, I cry out to God in desperation, "Where are you??  Why can't I feel you?  Do you exist???  Are you there?"  These families, in the face of an untimely death of their child, their baby, in the face of insurmountable odds against a miracle and complete healing, with doctor's saying, "All we can do now is wait...", what did they cry??  They cried, "God, you are here.  We feel your presence.  You are here."

My faith in God has grown more in the past few months because of these families than it has grown in the whole of my adult life.  That is pretty significant.  I read of a young five year old boy - dying of cancer, lying in a hospital bed, with so many tubes you could hardly make out where is body was - upon hearing a new worship song, raised his hands in praise.  I want a faith like that.  Jesus spoke to Christian and told him he would heal his body, "he told me three times" Christian whispered to his family.  I want to be that close to Jesus, that I can hear his whisper in my ear. 

It breaks my heart with sadness to say that Julia and Christian both died on the same day.  I don't understand why God chose to take them so early.  I know their families are beyond heart broken, and this makes me so sad.  We were all praying for an earthly miracle, but Christian and Julia were both healed.  They are in perfect form in Heaven, with no pain and no tumours, no tubes and no chemo.  They touched more people in their short time here than many do in their whole life.  I think God used them to teach us all about faith and love.  People from all over the world followed Christian's Mommy's blog.  People all over the world prayed for the first time, or the first time in a long time, that God would heal him.  Some people (me included) had their faith renewed in a God they doubted.

Isn't that a wake up call to faith?

Doesn't it sound so much more appealing to face death with peace than with fear?  While these families are mourning the loss of their children taken too soon, they believe without failing that these children are safe now, and free from the horrors of cancer.  Julia can see now, with both eyes.  Christian can run and jump with energy that was taken from him here on earth.  If they had earthly bodies, their hair would grow back long and healthy and beautiful.  I think it's important to recognize that cancer did not win. 

I'm so sad that Christian and Julia died.  I wanted so much for an earthly miracle so I could say, "See?  See what God can do?"  But their lives were a testament that so many of us will never get to experience. 

And Jayden, he has people praying for him all over the world 24 hours a day.  Every moment of every day, someone is praying for complete healing for Jayden, peace and strength for his family.  There aren't many people in this world that unite people from all walks of life, all over the globe, but these three children did just that.

And I am forever changed. 

Are you?

http://christiansfight.blogspot.ca/

http://www.gofundme.com/1iufdg

If you follow me on facebook, look for the open group, 24 Hour Prayer for Jayden and Christian.

Merry Christmas!!

I'm probably not the only one, but Christmas is my favourite time of year.  I've been listening to Christmas music since December hit.  How can you be in a bad mood listening to Christmas music?  Our living room looks like the North Pole opened up and puked lights and decorations and presents everywhere.   Of course, having an eight year old is really the only encouragement you need to make every Christmas the best Christmas ever. 

 

I'm sure this will be remembered as the last year that Q believed in Santa.  He's already starting to debate the logistics of Santa...thinking it impossible rather than magical.  I love his innocence.  I love his ability to believe in something that is just so completely, well...impossible.  He's been asking questions lately, though, that tell me his innocence in *this* category is slowly fading. 

 

"Why didn't the dog bark last year when Santa delivered presents?  She barks at everything?"

 

"It's impossible for Santa to deliver to every child in the whole world in one night."

 

"The Norad Santa Tracker is so fake.  They said he was in Vancouver, but the news said he was in Winnipeg." (Geez, multimedia...get your stories straight please...)

 

It reminds me of my best friend's son who said when he was about this age, "Mommy, I'm pretty sure Santa doesn't exist, but could we just pretend for one more year..."

 

This was also the first year there were no toys under the tree.  I mean, don't get me wrong, there werent just books and clothes and underwear, but there weren't any Legos or Hot Wheels or Stuffed Animals.  There were movies and video games and sports equipment and an iPod.  It's the end of an era, really. 

 

Hopefully the end of a cluttered, trip-over-wayward-toy, why-is-that-toy-so-noisy era...

 

So today, I will leave you with some amazing words from some amazing Christmas carols.  We sing them so often by memory, how often do we stop to think of their meaning?

Joy to the world

The Lord has come.

Let Earth receive her King

Let every heart prepare Him room

 

and...

 

A thrill of hope

A weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks

a new and glorious morn

With so many horrible events taking place in our world lately, I'd say we are desperately weary, all looking for a reason to rejoice. 

Merry Christmas from our home to yours!!

 

A Heavy Heart

This morning I woke Q up the same way I do every morning (well, every morning that he doesn't wake me up with a "Mom-my, I'm hungry) with a "Wakey, wakey eggs and bac-y!!!"

 

Okay, so it starts that way.  Then it's, "C'mon!! Rise and shine!!" 

 

Then it's "Q.  Now.  Up."

 

Today, I reminded him that he had a super exciting day - a field trip to The Nutcracker and he'd get to ride on a school bus.  That got him up.  He ran downstairs to open his advent calendar. 

 

Then he chattered away the whole way to the babysitter...

 

"Mommy, how many sleeps til Christmas?"

 

"I think Santa starts delivering presents at 1 am.  Do you think so?"

 

"I love spending Christmas Eve with Daddy because we go skating and stay up really late - but not too late, because Santa comes.  We watch where Santa is on the Santa Tracker and we play Monopoly."

 

I dropped him off at the babysitters.  He gave me a big hug.  I said "I love you!" and kissed the top of his head.  He said, "I do too!!"

 

It was just another day.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  Certainly not super special. 

 

Today, parents in Newtown, CT took their children to the babysitters, to school just like any ordinary day.  Their children excited for a visit from Santa, maybe a field trip on a school bus.  Kisses on foreheads, whispers of "I love you!" in little ears.

 

It is horrific and tragic that some of these children did not go home today.  I cannot even begin to imagine the devastation these parents must be going through; their lives never the same.  A huge hole in their hearts, their child gone too soon.

 

Today there are three specific children I think of that did not go to school because their little bodies are battling tumours and the ill effects of chemo and radiation.  Modern science has nothing left to offer.   "I love yous" are precious and plenty and kisses are never ending.  Prayers are constant.  Every time I think of them, I lose my breath, because I cannot fathom anything worse than watching your child, no older than 5 or 7, die before you, helpless to do anything but pray for a miracle.

 

My heart breaks every time I think of these children and these families.

 

Every morning for me is an *extra* ordinary morning because I have been blessed with a healthy little boy, who right this very minute is safe and sound.  He's happy.  He's not scared or worried.  I can say with confidence that I know he will wake up tomorrow, healthy, happy and safe.

 

And I am so grateful.

 

I hope and pray that I never take for granted the ordinary mornings.  The cuddles.  The kisses.  The talks.  The laughs.  The games.  The school plays.  The spelling tests.  I pray that I never take for granted the awesome responsibility that has been bestowed upon me - raising up my beautiful boy.  It makes things like *things* and money so completely irrelevant in comparison.  I have a gift that has been horrifically stolen from far too many, far too soon.  With every grateful prayer I say for my son, I will pray for peace for those who have gone, for those who long for little fingers and tiny kisses.

 

I am overwhelmed with sadness tonight for those robbed of their little blessings, taken to heaven far too soon.  Tonight when you tuck your babies in and kiss them goodnight, say a little prayer for those mourning the loss of their children.

Raising the Leaders of Tomorrow

Do you see those two new buttons on the side of my blog?  If you get my blog e-mailed to you, then click here to be directed to my blog. 

For a very long time, there has been a soft spot for children in my heart.  In fact, for as long as I can remember, there has been.  I love not only their innocence and purity, but their ability to love with abandon and their hope for the future.  It is so striking to me that these children are our future and the way we raise them up now when they're young is a very strong determining factor for who they will be when they grow up.  We are raising the leaders of tomorrow.  We're raising the doctors and the teachers and the mayors and maybe even the prime minister.  If you knew you were raising the next leader of Canada, would you raise him differently?  Sadly, we're also raising the homeless and the criminals.  How would we parent differently if we knew in 10 years our child would be robbing a bank?

When Q was in kindergarten, I was able to volunteer in his class almost every day.  It was a wonderful experience for me to interact with my son, but also with the other children in his class. What I saw amazed me...the children who acted out the most were almost always the children who's parents were absent - the parents who never picked them up from school, never came to the after school events, never showed for parent/teacher interviews.  Children learn from a very young age that any attention is good attention, so if they were getting in trouble, well I guess they thought it was better than being invisible.  It was remarkable what a little bit of positive attention did to their behavior.  The whole year Q was in kindergarten I thought, teachers plant a seed.  They plant an "I believe in you" seed that they hope grows and grows and grows in these leaders of the future. 

Having a child of my own has only made my desire to help children more.  Every night (or every night Q is with me) I get to kiss him good night, tuck him in, tell him I love him, and I'm proud of him.  It breaks my heart that children go to bed at night alone, hungry, scared, homeless, orphans.  It breaks my heart that children go to sleep without hearing, "I love you." 

Q really, really, really enjoys being an only child.  He tells me so almost daily.  Lately I've been planting a seed in Q's heart for the children of the world who are homeless and have no parents at all.  Somewhat reluctantly, he is realizing he may have a very large family one day, with brothers and sisters from around the world. 

I stumbled upon this blog called kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com recently and it has opened my eyes to a whole world of orphans yes, but also people trying to do something about it.  Katie is a mother of 13 adopted orphan girls from Uganda, where so many children are left either abandoned or orphaned due to AIDS or poverty or both.  Katie has started a non-profit organization that helps the poorest of the poor go to school, have clothes, and feeds them two meals a day.  Her ministry and her organization has grown by leaps and bounds over the past few years.  I started reading her book, "Kisses from Katie" and I had goosebumps the whole book.  This young woman is amazing.  Katie is 22 and has done more for the 'least of these' than most of us will ever do in our life time.  She is raising up the leaders of tomorrow for Uganda, and inviting the world to help. 

November 4 is Orphan Sunday.  It's purpose is to:

• Educate people about the plight of millions and millions of orphans around the world
• Involve people by sponsoring children so they can go to school, eat and learn about God 
• Get donations that go towards assisting people who want to adopt internationally.  These adoptions can go anywhere from $10, 000 to $45, 000. Organizations create grants so this becomes a reality for families who do not have the money, but have the heart to adopt orphans
• Finally, it educates and encourages people who want to adopt orphans internationally

If you want to donate to either of these causes, all you have to do is click on these links on the side of my blog.  They will take you directly to the websites.  If you have a church congregation and want to take the plight of orphans around the world to people, click on the Orphan's Sunday button.  It has all the resources, ideas, and contacts that you will need to successfully host an event. 

Think of the future of our world.  What do you want it to look like?  What do you want to do to ensure it looks like your vision?  When you tuck your babies into bed tonight, remember the ones who sleep on a mat in an orphanage praying for a mommy to kiss them goodnight.

 

Q-isms - Wise Beyond his Years

In many ways, I'm a conventional mom.  Q knows his manners, eats his veggies, takes a shower twice a week (if we're lucky), and goes to school on a regular basis.  We've tried to implement chores, but I mostly forget or if I do remember I do it myself because it's easier.  As he gets older, though, I see the value in teaching him the quality of responsibility, the importance of a job well done and a dollar earned - so I'm working on that.

In one way, I am not a conventional mom.  Q still sleeps in my bed.  There are three reasons for this.

1. He sleeps with his dad, too.  Every time I try to wean Q out of my bed, his father does not follow suit, so I relent.  If it's not consistent, it is fighting a losing battle.  I end up with too little sleep and then I'm ugly and grumpy.  Not a good combination.  Coincidentally, him sleeping with me in the beginning started as a way to get more sleep.  He slept longer with me beside him.
2. As an only child from two separate households, Q has some unique challenges that other children with siblings or with parents who are together do not have.  He gets separation anxiety.  If sleeping with me gives him a little extra confidence to get through his day, I see nothing wrong with that at all.
3. There is nothing more wonderful than feeling his little hand on my cheek as he falls asleep, hearing him breathe or talk in his sleep, and watching him sleep.  It is something I cherish.  It gives us extra time together where there is no "eat your dinner" or "do your homework" or "hurry up" or "slow down".  There is just us.

We often have our best talks just before he is going to bed.  I don't know if Q is like other children and I haven't given kids enough credit for their depth of understanding or if he is incredibly wise beyond his years.  Sometimes his insight is so wise it amazes me.  I think he is destined for great things, my little man - just because his compassion and his understanding is so great.

One such occasion was the night before Grade 3....

Q:  Daddy says grade three was his worst year ever.

Me:  That's because grade three is the year his mommy died.

Q:  Oh.  I didn't know that.  I just knew she was 42, but I didn't know he was only 8.  What happened to daddy?

Me:  His daddy moved to Libya to work, so daddy went to boarding school with Uncle Duck (or Doug as everyone else calls him).

Q:  What's a boarding school?

Me:  It's when you live and go to school and eat and play all in the same place.

Silence

Q:  I'm understanding some things more now.

Me:  Like what?

Q:  Daddy was offered a job in Dallas a while ago, and he didn't take it.

Me:  Do you know why he didn't take it?

Q:  Yes, because of me. 

Me:  Yup.  Because he loved you more.

Geez...for all the times I wish I was flexible enough to kick my ex in the face, I lied there thankful for knowing that my Q knows his daddy loves him.  He knows that his daddy wants something better for him than he had as a boy. 

I wonder how many children notice or appreciate what their parents sacrifice for them.  Anyone of us parents can name several things we've sacrificed in the name of our dear children, but how many of them know it?  How many know but don't appreciate it?  How many have to be told to be grateful?  And yet here is my little 8 year old boy not just knowing, but reveling in the knowledge?  It makes me want to cry just thinking of it.  I know it's something he'll carry within him well into his adulthood. 

We're seriously going to save on therapy bills for this one.

One *But* Away

What is your biggest dream in life?

And what is holding you back from accomplishing it?

When I was a teenager, I was going to conquer the world.  I dreamed about being the first female Prime Minister of Canada.  (But then Kim Campbell won by default and was horrible at it, and there went my dream...sucked out the window...)  Seriously, I was going to change the world.  But University was really hard.  And expensive.  And I couldn't fathom years and years in school...I wanted my life to start right then and there.  So I threw away the C+ papers and the B- exams and with them, my dreams of being the Prime Minister.

I was going to be a writer.  But the ideas stopped flowing.  And the inspiration stopped once high school ended.  And the poems stopped.  The novel stopped.  And even if I did have a really good idea, one that people wanted to read...how would I put it all on paper so they'd feel compelled to read?  And how would I find the time to write, what with a child and a full time job?  Then the *constructive criticism* from all the editors and the shut downs from all the publishers...well, I just don't think my ego could take it.  That's the tough thing about being perfect you know.  You realize it's fleeting, and the fear is paralyzing, because obviously no one is perfect.  But once you realize it, and those around you notice too... 

I was going to be married...with tonnes of children that were all delivered naturally, with a Douala and a midwife in a blow up pool in my living room.  It was going to be beautiful.  I'd breastfeed, no problems.  I'd have no problems living on 3-4 hours a sleep at night, and post partum depression would just be ugly words on a page, but would never, ever be used to describe me.  And we'd adopt children with special needs into our loving, supportive home and these abandoned children would come to know love like no one else.  But my husband never came.  My depression scares me to this day.  And I have one (absolutely lovely) child who knows love like only his momma can give him.  But he goes to his dad's every other night, and asks, "who's house am I sleeping at tonight?" And it breaks my heart.

Then I thought, "Who needs a man?  Who needs to be pregnant?  I'll foster babies and then adopt them!!" But I'm already a single mom trying to make ends meet.  How do I add another mouth to the equation?  And what about Q?  I don't want him to feel any less *loved* or cared for because I have more children in the house.  And how would he feel when he goes to daddy's, but these other kids who we've only known for a short time get to stay with mommy all the time.  These two points stop me dead in my tracks.  Especially when Q begs me to never have any more children.

How many 'buts' did you just read?  There are eight.  Eight fearful buts.  Because that's exactly what they are...fears.  Fears that probably never materialize into anything.  I mean, I'm pretty sure I'd never be Prime Minister, because I don't think that's an effective way to change our society.  It's an outlet to lie and scheme or look like you're lying and scheming and be hated by everyone, no matter what you do.  I still bounce around the idea of writing a novel on a daily basis.  But the fear of failure stops me on a daily basis.  And I'd love to have oodles of children running through the house.  It's just not the right time right now.  Maybe when Q is older and settled, and my career is older and settled.  Maybe.

What have you always dreamed of doing?

I stumbled upon the beautiful blog while I was surfing Pinterest last week.  The premise is this:  A girl went on a trip to Uganda when she was sixteen and saw the horrible poverty and how much was needed and how little was given.  She went back a year later with plans to teach English to the girls there.  Now, at 22, is the adoptive mother of 13 beautiful girls.  She has a charity that pays for food, schooling, and jobs for the children and mothers in the village where she lives, because most of the men who lived there have gone.  Gone to find work, gone just to leave.  But gone. 

She's 22.

She gave up everything "back home."  She has no superior education or training.  She has little money, and depends heavily on donations and volunteers and God.  She had plenty of excuses...with the very first being, "I'm so young." 

Her blog has changed my life completely.  It makes all of my fears and excuses so superficial. It reminds me everyday of how much I have, and how much I have to give.  She teaches me to find the good in people when there seems to be absolutely no good left.  She reminds me that no soul is ever so completely lost that you give up on them.  She is such an inspiration to me and I hope you'll read her blog and be inspired as well. 

If you are looking for a cause, a link to click, a poster to buy, a life to change, please make it this one:  http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.ca/

 And if you're like me, fighting those fears and doubts and weaknesses - stop.  Think of the courage this woman lives with every single day, even though there are many 'buts' and 'what if's' and fears.  For every excuse there is an answer if only we choose to see it.

That being said, how we live our life every day is a choice we make.  We can move mountains right where we are, if we are courageous enough to look for it.  On every street, in every building, every day there are broken souls looking for a smile, a hug, an angel.  As Gandhi says, "Be the change you wish to see in the world."

Just because I was sooooooo worked up about the Kony 2012 campaign, I'd like to let you all know that the founder of said campaign was arrested last week for DUI and public *ahem* indiscretions.  Guess he couldn't handle the fame.  Maybe he'll make a movie about that too, and we can all donate to that cause as well.    



One Click to Save the World

"All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do
nothing."

      Edmund Burke

By now, I'm sure everyone in North America (and beyond) has heard of the Kony 2012 campaign.  My Facebook and Pinterest accounts have been inundated with images of Joseph Kony, and sadly up until a week ago, I had no idea who he was.  I clicked on the link to a YouTube video that introduced me to the horrors that have occurred in Uganda, all in the hands of Joseph Kony.  (Side note:  you will notice that nowhere in my blog are there any labels, links or titles that will either create traffic to my blog or to the Kony 2012 movement.  This is for a reason, which I will get to.  But we all know how to use Google, and so if you've not heard, please feel free to Google away...)

At first, I was outraged.  I mean, who wouldn't be?  There is this image of this beautiful boy who watch his family die.  As a mother, I just want to wrap my arms around him and let him know it's all going to be okay.  As a human, the sheer horror of what has gone on in Uganda is appalling.  How can we stand by and let this happen?  The director and narrator of this 30 minute video asks the same question and vows to do something about it.  He makes a promise to this little boy.

Ten years later, a video campaign spreads like wildfire through almost all social media sites.  People through out America become outraged.  Moved by the sight of a western toddler finding out about these atrocities, moved by the sad music in the background, moved by the flashbacks to Uganda - to Jacob as a boy, and now as a man.  Everyone wants something to be done.  Now.  In 2012.  Let's go get Joseph Kony. 

But wait.  How?  How do we do this? 

Utter helplessness strikes, until we find out that we can do something.  We can!  We can forward a link to everyone we know.  Then they'll know, and they'll send it on to others and everyone will know.  But wait, there's more.  We can buy a Kony 2012 package, complete with posters and bracelets and we can post the posters and wear the bracelets and...

...wait. 

Stop.

What?

This money that the Kony 2012 campaign raises - half goes to the costs of filming, directing and editing documentaries.  (Just as a point of reference, I sponsor a child through an organisation that guarantees at least 80% of the money they receive will go directly to the child I sponsor, the programs they run, and no more than 20% will go to overhead such as marketing or wages.)  So the video you've just watched, with the soulful music, that is what your money paid for.  Let me just say, you can put sad music to a toilet paper commercial and make people cry.  We're emotional - the human race.  It's what sets us apart from all the other mammals out there.  Our ability to feel empathy and want to do something about it.  We see something horrible going on, we want to do something about it.  We want to change the world.  Donating money to someones good intention, so he can direct movies, that's something....isn't it?  And ten years later??  It took ten years to make this video?  How many hundreds of thousands of children have died in the course of 10 years around the world?  In the time it took to make this 30 minute movie? 

Don't get me wrong, I think that what this guy is doing is a completely noble thing.  His intentions are wonderful.  He made a promise to Jacob, he kept his promise.  His gift, his talent, his *way* of getting things across is by directing a movie.  That's his gift.  That's okay.  There is nothing wrong with his presentation.  For others, their gift is organizing a rally or a 5k run.  Some people believe that by buying a $5.00 pink key chain, they're doing their part to fund research to cure breast cancer.  My fear is that you and I will get lost in the fact that we're saving the world, when all we're doing is clicking on a button or buying a bracelet.  And you, my friend, are sorely mistaken if you think you're saving the world by posting a Joseph Kony poster at work.  Fighting cancer, saving children, righting wrongs...it's not an easy thing to do.

You're also mistaken if you think that those are the only atrocities that are happening to children right now.  Never mind that Joseph Kony hasn't even been in Uganda for the past 6 years.  Never mind that doctors say the #1 threat to children is Uganda right now is the "Nodding Disease".  Never mind children in Somalia and Ethiopia are dying of starvation faster than you can save them.  Never mind that children are being sold into prostitution in Asia.  Never mind that in India, children are purposely deformed so they'll make more money when begging.  Never mind that right here in Canada, a Sunday School teacher is on trial for beating a little girl to death with a baseball bat.  Children all over the world are victims of horrible, horrible crimes.  There is something about evil that preys on the pure and innocent.  Signing a petition will never, ever solve that.  It might just ease your conscience.  And that, I think, is what bothers me more than anything. 

We're a generation of instant gratification - fast food, quick weight loss options, energy drinks - and now, saving the world.  It makes us feel good when we don't have to work hard to reap a reward.  It satisfies us enough to forward a link in our attempt to save the world.  What have we come to?  The outrage over the Kony 2012 campaign isn't so much the fact that this one person made a promise to a little orphaned boy ten years ago, it's that we're all so willing to support something because it tugs on our heart strings without any research, forethought or afterthought.   How many people gave a second thought to what was happening in Uganda after they forwarded that e-mail, link or picture?  How many people asked what else they could do?  Raising awareness is one thing...asking people to step up is quite another.  

This guy's solution is to get Obama and the Americans to storm into Uganda and put an end to this once and for all.  Let's just make it clear that the USA does not exist solely as a moral meter for other countries.  They have enough of their own problems to focus on, I think we all agree.  And truthfully, unless there is the threat of war or a threat to their oil supply, the US is really not obligated, nor inclined to go into any other country and play the super hero.  After WWII, everyone vowed that nothing like Hitler would ever happen again, meanwhile ethnic cleansing was happening in Chechnya and no one did a thing. 

My rant is just that, a rant.  I have no labels or links because quiet little blogs like mine have become viral overnight only because they've mentioned Kony.  I don't wish for fame in that fashion, I don't want my legacy to be the 'blogger who jumped on the Kony 2012 bandwagon'.  I simply want people to realize that changing the world is more than a click, a bracelet or a poster.  It's a way of life.  It takes hard work and motivation every single day, not one minute on a computer.  Don't get sucked into the sensationalism that this man has created.  I have friends who have devoted their lives to children in other areas of the world, as well as right here in Canada, and for them it's much more than a cause.  Follow this guy, or don't.  It makes no matter.  What matters, really, is the integrity with which you live your life every day.  What are you doing today to change the world?  Maybe not for a Ugandan orphan, but for someone less fortunate than you? 

How Do You Know?

This morning at precisely 8:34 am, I was woken from my slumber (and an oddly familiar dream where I have to go to work, but cannot find my uniform in the piles and piles of suitcases that surround me...but more on my dreams at a later date....believe me, you'll want to tune in to that post) by screaming.  Blood curdling screaming.  It took me a minute to figure out where I was, and why I could hear the sound of a child being beaten, when I remembered...

...the evil woman downstairs.

I should state clearly that I've never actually heard or seen her beat her little girl.  She prefers the more subtle forms of abuse - verbal, emotional, mental.  She pokes and prods her daughter until she is so overwhelmed by frustration that she screams this high pitched squeal and then it turns into this low guttural moan that sounds like she's possessed. 

Example 1:

Little Girl (LG):  Mommy, I fell  *whimper*

Evil Lady (EL):  Well, why'd you do that?

LG:  I tripped and hurt my knee

EL:  You should watch where you're going.  You are such a klutz.  I tell you all the time to be more careful, but you don't listen.  If you don't want to listen, fine.  Next time, don't trip.

LG:  But Mommy, it really hurts *starts to cry*

EL:  You scraped your knee.  Don't start to cry.  What are you, a baby?  Only babies cry.

*** LG SCREAMS FOR THE NEXT 20 MINUTES ***

**** EL yells back:  "STOP CRYING" for 20 minutes ****

Okay so not really very nice, right?  But is it abuse?  I don't know.  She doesn't give her daughter any other option when met with an adverse situation than to yell and scream and blow up.  LG isn't learning how to deal with her emotions - like anger - in a healthy way.  I've not ever heard Q cry that way. 

Example #2:

LG:  Mommy, you know what I'm going to do when I turn six?

EL:  Don't you be talking like you're turning six tomorrow, because you're not.  You're five.  You won't be six for a few months.

LG:  Ya, I know.  But ya wanna know what I'm gonna do when I'm six?

EL:  Stop jumping.

LG:  Mommy, you know what I'm gonna do when I turn six?

EL:  Stop jumping.  You know what I'm going to do when you turn six?  I'm going to throw you off the roof.  That's what I'm going to do. 

LG:  But, you know what....

EL:  Shut your f***ing mouth, LG.  I don't want to friggen hear it.  Got it?

I was doing laundry when I heard that one.  Poor little girl.  How excited are children for their birthdays?  I know Q does a count down from the day he turns another year older.  Q's birthday is 5 months away and he already has the whole thing planned.  It's exciting for him.

My mom has spoken to EL and she just says, "Ya well it's hard being a single mom."  Obviously, I think this is a total cop out because, hello, I'm a single mom and I wouldn' dream of speaking to my child in that manner.  I don't speak to other adults that way, although I have been known to drop an F-bomb every once in a while.  It makes me angry that that is her excuse for poor parenting.  How about you're just an angry woman who doesn't know how to love a child...maybe that's it.

Example #3 (a.k.a this morning's wake up call)

LG:  *SCREAMING*

EL:  I'm calling your dad right now to get you.  He's going to come and take you and you're never coming back, got that?

LG:  *SCREAMING*

EL:  LG stop crying now. If you don't stop, I'm calling the police and they're going to come and take you away forever.  STOP CRYING

LG:  *SCREAMING*

EL:  Fine.  Good.  I'm done LG.  I'm done.  All you ever do is scream, and I've had enough.  This is NOT your home anymore.  Got it.  Not your home.  The police are coming and they are taking you away for GOOD.

This went on for about 25-30 minutes. 

I know that most of the people who read my blog are women, mothers, sisters, aunts, single mothers, mothers of mothers, etc...what do you do?  There's this side of me that thinks this is absolutely none of my business.  And really, it's not.  She's not my child.  And is she in physical harm?  No, I don't think her mother has ever hit her.  Is she clean?  Yes, her mother has OCD...she's probably scrubbed down with bleach every night.  Is she fed?  Yes, although it smells horrid...fried foods...not really abuse. 

But by saying that, do we negate the fact that this little girl is being bullied by her mother?  That she is being mentally abused, emotionally and verbally.  The little girl has no sense of stability because when the going gets tough, her mother threatens to abandon her.  The mother is creating a monster. 

What would you do?  Would you call Child Services?  Would you leave it alone?  Would you try to intervene the next time you hear it happen?  There are so many instances where parents aren't allowed to parent anymore, the way they *used to*.  Do you know it's considered abuse to wash your child's mouth out with soap?  Not that I could or would ever, but I totally remember my brother's friends mouths being washed out - more than once.  A swat on the bum can be considered abuse.  I don't want to be a nosy neighbour, but I don't want this little girl to be treated horribly any longer.

*HELP*

My Love

I could bore you with stories about how fabulous my son is.  I could brag about what a genius he is.  I could tell you how he was born athletic.

Like today, for instance.  This kid, my kid, he scored two out of the three goals scored in the game.  This was a very, very good thing because they (the soccer people) were evaluating the boys today.  They were evaluating their skills and abilities so they can put them in divisions...you know, the good kids with the good kids, the so-so kids with the so-so kids and the smart-but-not-very-athletic kids with the smart-but-not-very-athletic kids. 

The thing is...they didn't give us any notice.  I go to get the coffees from the car, and I come back and they're wearing these blue pinafores with numbers on them.  If we had a little bit of notice, we could have practiced the tough parts, you know, like the scoring and stuff.  But we didn't know.  We didn't know. 

And this is a lot of pressure.  Not for the kids.  They didn't even know.  It's pressure for us parents.  I don't want them to think Q needs to be placed with the kids who pick their noses and run away from the ball (I was the latter, definitely not the former...) 

To top the whole thing off, they put Q in a pinafore without a number on it.  The coaches said that they had decided the blank one was considered #0.  Sure, give my kid a complex.  The whole game I'm yelling, "GO ZERO!!!!!!" and "WAY TO PASS, ZERO!!!" and "WOW, THAT KID ZERO IS AWESOME!!!!"  The parents were laughing at me, but in their heads, I know they were thinking that I'm the crazy, psycho soccer mom.  While I will admit that I did get a little angry that the little girl who never comes to practice was having an exceptionally successful jaunt today, I am certainly not crazy.  I just want what's best for my child, because let's face it...he is the best.  In my eyes anyways.

His spelling tests, by the way have been perfect.  Perfect!  In fact, he says that they are getting too easy.  Now, granted the words are like "an" and "fan" but I love that he's so eager to be challenged.  You know what I mean?  Reading?  It's almost there, just on the tip of his tongue.  It's so exciting to be a part of his learning experiences.

We just bought Yahtzee because he's getting a little sick of Monopoly (truth be told, I was sick of Monopoly like 6 months ago...)  The game is for ages 8 and up.  Q took about two games to figure it out and now he is a Yahtzee whiz kid.  He's like Rain Man without the Autism.  Not only has he grasped the concept of all the different  combinations, but he's adding the dice in his head.  I stare in amazement at how this little mind works and all its complexity. 

And then for Valentine's Day, my little man and I had a date.  We went to McDonald's and ate Big Mac's and giggled at funny jokes and talked about our day.  And he made me my very own Valentine's card.  He made it two days before and I had to walk around the house with my eyes closed, so I didn't ruin the surprise.  Then he hid it in his bedroom for the big day...



I'm not quite sure who Moy is, but boy is she ever  lucky!!



Sometimes I love him so much my chest actually hurts.  I want to cry with love for him.  It's indescribable the love I feel for him.  I'm the luckiest gal in the world.

Say What?!?! A Stay at Home Who?

"Of course I made it from scratch, darling! Now go take out the garbage."

I've recently discovered this new concept that allows us mother-type people to stay on top of silly little things like laundry, house cleaning and cooking. Hold your breath, ladies. Are you sitting down? This is totally revolutionary...it could change our world (or mine, at the very least!)

A stay at home mom or as 'they' call it "SAHM." I know. Its very own acronym, how cool is that? Here's the idea: You don't have to work. Well, not outside the home. You get to STAY home and raise your child(ren). You have time to do the laundry...wash and fold. I've heard it said you can even wash your floors during normal hours and not at 2:00am when you get home from work. You have time to clean your toilet and brush your teeth and NOT at the same time.

You send the child to these things called "play dates," which is just as it sounds. They get to frolic with other children while you can do things like bake cookies, and make extravagant dinners. During this time, you can also have a nap or watch day time t.v. shows like "Oprah" or sordid romances like "Days of our Lives." Once the children are of school age, you have much more 'free' time to wash and clean and watch t.v...

These "SAHM's" have friends who are also SAHM's and they all get together and bond over potty stories and bedtimes. They all know about being exhausted at 9:00pm and being in bed by 10:00. They don't have to say 'no' to going to the bar on Saturday nights with other singletons, because their SAHM friends are hosting dinner parties and surprisingly, the children are invited. Or they get these kids called "babysitters" to look after their children while they go out for a night on the town, and they don't feel guilty for giving themselves some 'me' time. The children are happy, because the babysitter spoils them, gives them cookies for a bedtime snack, and lets them stay up way past their bedtime watching scary movies their SAHM would never let them watch. Did I mention guilt free? You've spent all day with the little loves, 'me' time is absolutely necessary.

I know. I know what you're all thinking...how do these women, these SAHM's, get their lifestyle bankrolled. I mean, if they're not leaving the house to work...where do they get the funds? Okay Ladies, get this - they have these things called 'husbands' that bring home the 'bacon' which is a whimsical word they use for money. It's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Why haven't I thought of this before? This 'husband' could also do the icky chores like taking out the garbage and changing the oil in the car. I've come to the conclusion that this would eliminate the need for meeting, then dating other men as I'm pretty sure these husbands come with certain perks besides the money. If you're like me, you're thinking..."What, no dating? Wooohooo, more time for me!!!" Now, where do I find one of these husbands??

Of course, this is all tongue-in-cheek. I've just spent the week on vacation, doing nothing but mommy things during normal mommy hours. I took Q to school all week. I washed the floors today. I'm caught up on laundry. I have not one dirty dish in the sink. Dinner is in the oven. It's been glorious, and I'm feeling a little sick to my tummy that I have to go back to work on Monday.