Summer Rules

Yes, summer holidays rule. In fact I'm really looking forward to them this year, but with them fast approaching we need some rules. So as I've seen many people who have made their list of rules for electronic usage etc post theirs online I decided to do some for my kids and probably lose some popularity points with them too. (See the tears in my eyes? No? Me neither.)

All the ones I have seen online start with "You may use or have you limited time on electronics as long as you have done all these today." Well that doesn't work for me. I have no desire to have them rushing in the morning to get everything out the way so they can get some time on their tablets. That means I have to get up and get them organized and they will be asking for stuff at 6am. Yes, my kids are early risers, and quite frankly I am not that dedicated. So instead I have started mine with, "...as long as yesterday you did all of the following."

Obviously there will be exceptions to the rules, I don't run that tight of a ship and we do a lot of stuff over summer that may impact this, but this is my list.

Law of averages

I haven't written in a long time. My mood hasn't been right and I've had no inspiration. Today though I saw something on Facebook that made me stop and think. A motivational poster I guess you could call it. It simply stated: You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.

That's a pretty strong statement. Is it true? Maybe. Is it scientifically proven? I doubt that. But it made me stop and think, if it is true, do I like the people I am the average of? In my case the majority of my five are my family, so I ran through their characteristics to see.

I am the average of a little girl, who is growing up way too fast for my liking. She is kind, compassionate and loves to help. She never complains when I ask her to do anything, even it is just to stop playing computer games and run upstairs to get me something because I am too lazy to do it myself. She loves beyond measure and never back chats. She is creative and although not a straight A student, she does enough to get through with ease, and just not enough that she is not stressed about it. Come to think of it, that trait she may get from me. Her downfalls? She is lazy and messy...both averages she may get from me.

I am the average of a young boy. He is both the most loving, empathetic kid I have ever met and the most frustrating too. He cannot not have the last word in an argument, he does not understand the value in just letting things go to keep the peace. There are times I would love to have a mute button. He is mischievous, he loves to play jokes and prank people, he sings and talks all day long. He is happy kid, not sulky unless crossed and will snap out of any bad mood within minutes of being offered a hug. He is addicted to computer games but loves to drop everything to come and cuddle and just spend time with me. He shares everything, from his Easter eggs to his money, and is a firm believer in following the rules, unless it means he's going to lose at a game - yes he gets that from me too.

I am the average of a man I have known since I was 16. He is without a doubt the most generous and giving man I have ever met. I'm no where near as generous so I don't think I got this average. He doesn't take bullshit from anyone. Yes, he has a short temper and can be a grump but forgives easily and laughs infectiously. He is insanely clever, a geek and yet also a man who enjoys the outdoors, camping, kayaking and hiking. He can chop wood, set up a camp and yet fix the most complicated computer problem or anything around the house. He loves me, has loved me for 29 years and has never let me doubt that for a minute.

I am the average of an 81 year old lady. A lady who has helped shape the start of many lives while working at a nursery school (PreK and kindergarten for those in a different schooling system). She raised 4 kids on a budget while never letting us feel like we we lacking in anything. She taught me the value of being frugal while ensuring that no one goes without anything. She always has a smile on her face and a kind word and hug for her grandkids. She loves watching sport, reading and just being able to spend time with us.

I am the average of a dog who loves to sleep, cuddle and drink from the toilet. Okay, I do love to sleep and cuddle.

My deep thoughts of the day after reviewing these? I could do a whole lot worse.
My question to you? Are you happy with who you are the average of? If not, do something about it.

Flashing My Butt To The World

I often wonder how I get myself into these embarrassing situations, then I remember I'm me and I tend to ignore the neon pink warning sign flashing "Danger, Danger" and keep pressing my luck.

Today's situation is a prime example.

As I have admitted before, on some days when I am running late, I will throw a sweater on and drive the kids to school in my pj's. They're cute pink, black and teal plaid pants and a black flimsy t-shirt. I always say a quick, "Please don't let me have a reason to get out the car," to the heavens though as I leave.  Well today was one of those days, with a slight twist. We race out the door and climb into the car and as I sit down I feel the entire length of the butt seam rip. From right between my legs up to the top of my butt crack. Visions of Lenny Kravitz showing his bits to the world flash through my head (if you don't know what I mean, google it, or rather don't especially not at work.) Okay, it could be worse, I'm not commando on stage in front of people, so the similarity ends there...except it doesn't, they're pj's so there isn't even any underwear in sight to protect my modesty when I stand up. I'm faced with two choices. Make the kids late by going inside to change or drive them to school and pray even harder not to have a reason to get out the car. I chose the second one as I did not feel like giving the kids a reason to laugh hysterically at me and tell their friends what happened to their mom, before I have even had breakfast.

I would like to add in a disclaimer here. My pants are very thin, they have ripped multiple times before and I have repaired them as they are my favorite. This has nothing to do with the 10 lbs I have gained or all the Halloween candy. That's my story and I am sticking to it. However my disclaimer is also my flashing neon pink warning sign. They have ripped before...I knew full well they would not last long and have been waiting for weeks for them to rip again.

I am pleased to report I made it home without being stopped by the police or having a car accident. I parked in the driveway, removed my sweater and did a contortion act in the front seat of the car to get it wrapped around my waist, then climbed out the car while making sure my butt was facing the garage door and prayed the neighbours teenage son didn't walk out of his house. I made sure everything was covered and could turn and flee into the house.

These pants may be my favorite, but they're going in the bin today.

Gratitude

I was struck today how grateful I am that Diggle was born in this day and age and not 20 or 30 years earlier. I'm also immensely grateful for the Canadian medical system and Sick Kids Hospital here because without them I doubt we'd be where we are now. 

Sometimes it takes an 'in your face' kind of moment to make you realize just how good you have it. My friend and I have started walking in the mornings, and after our walk we were sitting having a bottle of water by Tim's (that's a coffee shop for you non Canadians). I saw a man in his 50'd shuffle/limp up to the counter to buy coffee and when he walked away realized that the reason for his exaggerated limp/gait was his one foot was clearly turned completely in and he was walking on the outside of his ankle. Clearly born with a club foot just like my Diggle, I took a minute to look at the man and the way people looked at him and treated him. He had an air of rejection, he was unkempt and came across like an outcast to society. My heart broke a little. What sort of life could he have had with today's medical advantages with his deformity? Surely he would've been a different man? 

I look at Diggle, jumping around with so much energy and it brings me to tears. He's determined to try out for the volleyball team again this year and last year managed to get a ribbon at Track and field day. Yes his leg and foot get sore if he overdoes it but he hikes and climbs trails with us that leave me barely able to walk afterwards. He can do anything he wants with his life and society will never look at him and say there goes someone who was born with a birth defect or think of him as any different. 

Today I am grateful.

Motivation, or rather lack thereof...

I am so unmotivated. I know I'm not alone, a lot of my friends have admitted to feeling the same way, but I feel like mine might be a bit extreme. I don't even want to get out of bed in the morning. I honestly think I would hardly bother to go get something to eat if I didn't have the family to cook for. The laundry has been sitting on the chair in my bedroom for over a week needing to be put away and it just seems like too much effort. I need to track my food and watch what I eat, I desperately need to lose the 10 pounds I put on after surgery, but its easier not to. What is wrong with me?

Is it the end of summer blahs? Is it that I am tired of running around taking the kids and my mom to appointments, library, shopping, prepping for camping, more appointments and simply having very little time to do anything for myself without guilt setting in? I'd love to go shopping by myself for clothes, or for a pedicure or even to a movie, but then I will get the why did you not invite me/us from them.

My house is a mess and I know that does not help motivation. I guess I will start there. Small steps, baby steps, set myself a small goal to accomplish something each day and maybe I can pull myself out this funk. Todays goal was to write something, so this is it. I am also going to put that damn laundry away before this weeks load of washing goes on top of it. I will post this, get everyone lunch (because that's apparently my purpose in life) and then get the laundry done before I watch anymore Doctor Who or get back on Twitter. If I'm never seen again, I'm drowning face first in a pile of laundry, someone come look for me please.

How twins can bring out the stupid

Being a parent of twins is fun, I wouldn't change it for the world, no matter what you may read in the following post.

The first few years were insane. Trying to breastfeed two at a time, even trying to bottle feed two at a time. Two crying babies, two sets of diapers. Two babies to comfort at the doctors office after injections, two cranky kids when grocery shopping.  I can honestly say those first years were a blur, either that or I have blocked them from my mind completely.

It got easier as they got older, as did most of the questions people tend to ask when they realize they are twins. I thought I'd cover a few of the dumb questions and statements here so that maybe when faced with a parent of multiples someone somewhere will stop and think before asking.

Which one is the boy/girl?
I obviously don't get asked this any longer, but this was one of my biggest irritants when they were little.  If they were dressed in neutral colours sure, but stop and look. One is dressed in blue and the other in a cute white onsie with pink roses all over it. Now ask the question again, because I'm going to answer it and tell you the boy is the one in flowers, just to see your reaction.

Are they telepathic?
Why yes they are, right now they are telepathically discussing what a moron you are. I wish they were telepathic, just imagine they could fight without needing to scream at each other and I could ask the one to silently call their sibling for dinner without needing to block my ears at the resounding yell from right next to me.

Have they always been close?
No, they hated each other from the time of conception, it was a real fist fight in my uterus from day one and they came out not talking to each other, in fact it was only after about age 2 that they decided they loved each other.

Do twins run in your family?
Okay, I'll break this question down. Firstly this one is my pet peeve, the biggest reason for this is I find it intrusive.  Basically what you are asking is are they hereditary or did I use IFV or IUI. There are three ways I can answer it. I can take the easy route and say yes, (its not a lie, my brother in law has twins.) It provides a quick end to the conversation and stops someone from prying further. I can say no and simply refuse to elaborate, although I've had the "Wow, how freaky that you got twins" comment at that. Or I can be truthful and tell you what you are really asking. Yes, they are IVF babies, we had help getting pregnant as I have suffered from endometriosis all my life which made it near impossible to get pregnant. But really, think about it. Do I ask you how many times you fucked to get pregnant, what position you used or even if your kid was planned or a condom breakage. No, I don't. So stop prying. I would like to add here. I have no issue discussing or sharing my story if someone is going through infertility and needs help or to chat with me, I am in no way ashamed of needing to use IVF either. It's more the fact that complete strangers feel like they have the right to ask this question, sometimes in front of my kids that bugs me.

Are they identical?
I'm always tempted to answer this one with just a look, you know the one, it simply says you dumb-ass in one easy look. I started answering this by patiently saying "No, they're fraternal, you know, boy/girl, they can't be identical." But I'll admit to getting short on patience these days and having occasionally answered it with, "Well one has a penis..." and just leave it there.

Two for the price of one or million dollar family:
This one always makes me roll my eyes. Yes, they're going to cost me a million dollars I'm pretty sure of that. But two for the price of one. Well, how much did it cost you to get pregnant. I'm betting for most of you maybe a dinner out and a bottle of wine? I paid $25 000 by the time I got pregnant after multiple attempts and various ways. Then factor in that I couldn't reuse my cribs, car seats, high chairs for the siblings like you can, I needed two of everything right away and you'll see how ludicrous that statement is.

Lucky you, you got it all done at once:
Yes, lucky me. I got to juggle two babies, both at the same time with very little time to sit and bond with either one. I got to have a high risk pregnancy, multiple doctor visits never knowing if something was going to go wrong and be able to relish in the fact that I was pregnant.

Wow that must have been hard work:
I normally just smile sweetly and nod at this one, resisting the urge to thank them for being obvious.

So you had a C-Section?
Why would you assume this and even more perplexing, why would you think that I would want to discuss out in public what I pushed out my vagina with a complete stranger? The answer is no, I gave birth to my twins naturally, with the aid of lots and lots of drugs.

How did you cope when both babies cried at the same time?
I  did what any mother would do, I ignored them and poured myself a large glass of wine, then I looked at who needed me more urgently and attended to that kid first. Crying never killed anyone, you deal with it the same way you would if it were two different aged siblings.

I know I'm not alone in being asked these questions, it's a recurring theme, ask any parent of multiples, they will tell you word for word they have been asked the same things. Yes, we do have a club and yes we do sit around and compare notes and judge the stupidity out there.

I'm sure some of you are reading this and know you are guilty of asking someone these questions, perhaps even me. Please know, you're my friends I don't mind answering questions from friends, but I reserve the right to silently mock you if you say something stupid.

Pussy? Really Siri, you hate me that much?

Yesterday while marking the kids spelling homework I accidentally pressed down on my phone lying under the book. Siri beeped her questioning beep. I muttered, "Sorry, Siri" as I moved the book to the side. Siri springs to life with her, "Here's what I found on the web for..." and Diggle grabs my phone. He loves to ask Siri silly questions and tell her she's dumb.

The next words out his mouth were not what I was expecting. Keep in mind, to Siri I have an accent and half the time she doesn't understand me. 

An incredulous, "Mom, you said pussy?"

Now I'd like it to be known that while he does know that's a bad thing to call someone, he hasn't yet figured out why. Dick, he does know, only because he asked me after hearing someone use it so, since I believe in honesty and not ducking questions if they're asked, I explained.

I look up in alarm, stammering, denying I said anything of the sort and wondering just what he's seeing on my phone. The next words out his mouth had me nearly vaulting the kitchen counter to get my phone back. 

"Siri says for pussy you can go to Big Al's..." He starts to laugh saying pussy really loudly over and over because now he can sense my panic. Am I going to have to give an impromptu sex ed lesson while cooking pulled pork? (it's amazing how the most innocuous things can seem dirty if you think about it, I promise I really was cooking that.) My mom this whole time is standing behind me, very quietly, head down, concentrating on the onions in the frying pan. 

I grab my phone and wrestle it from his hands to see what I have to explain.  Scanning the screen I find yes, Siri does think I said Pussy, she thinks I'm in the market to go pet shopping and is directing me to the closest pet store, Big Al's Aquarium. 

I need a life...or perhaps an intervention

My WTF moment came this morning driving the kids to school. Let me set the scene. It's just after 8am, Diggle has yelled his customary, "it's time to leave." I've yelled, "have you brushed your hair? Get your sweaters and shoes on," back at him. 

After some panic over not finding his sweater and the fact that he cannot undo the knots his shoe laces are tied in, we are ready. Princess in this time has brushed her hair and is quietly waiting by the door. We rush out to the car and as I walk down the front path I realize I'm wearing sock type fuzzy slippers. I haven't even put on shoes. This is a first. Should I turn back and change, then we'll be late. I drove to school, prayed for no reason for me to need to climb out the car and raced back home. Once back in the house, I took a look at myself in the mirror. It wasn't a pretty sight.

Unbrushed hair, well I ran my fingers through it, does that count? My cute nightshirt with a sleepy owl on it tucked into a pair of baggy sweatpants. No underwear to be seen. My mind flashes over those motherly words about not leaving the house without clean underwear in case you get in an accident. I guess this would circumvent that issue. But then again last time the nurses had to cut my clothes off me in hospital I don't remember anyone commenting on my pretty undies as they tossed my jeans and underwear in the garbage. Back to my state of attire. I had completed today's stylish ensemble with a sweater of DH's thrown over the top and zipped up, and of course let's not forget my multicoloured slipper socks. 

Who is this woman and what is she doing in my body? 

You'd think from the above description there's no place to go but up right? You'd be wrong. Shortly after this I seriously considered using the dog shampoo for my hair. What? It says it leaves the coat shiny, tangle free and moisturizers the skin...that's more than mine promises. I was soaking in a hot bath when I realized I'd left my shampoo in the shower. No I didn't use the dogs, I mentally took control and decided not to sink that far.

They say you have to hit bottom before you claw your way back up. I might be there. Time to get my life back in order and get some stuff done. Once I have the taxes in, which I can't finish yet until I get some paperwork emailed to me from South Africa, I have some major projects I need to start here. I will get busy, I will get organized...I will not promise to get out of my pyjamas before driving the kids to school though.

Running Away From Home

Firstly no, it’s not what you think, as much as I threaten and bitch, this time I’m not the one who is planning on fleeing.

 

The past few days have been interesting. Let me start at the beginning.

The kids as they are getting older are getting more responsibility and being allowed to roam further and do more with their friends.

Well Diggle broke some rules and I was mad...like furious mad. He has been grounded, well not kept inside grounded, I’m not crazy. But he is limited to playing on our street for the next little while (I told him a year). He is not impressed. He has threatened to run away a few times. Here is our conversation yesterday.

Diggle: Comes storming in from outside and plonks himself down forcefully in the chair next to me. “Thanks a lot, mom!”

Me: “You’re welcome” Goes nonchalantly back to Twitter.

Diggle: “I was being sarcastic you know.”

Me: “Uh huh. Your friends go to the park without you?”

Diggle: “Yes and it’s your fault ‘cause you won’t let me.”

Diggle: “You don’t love me! No-one loves me. No, wait, Granny and Smudge (Monster Dog) love me. They’re the only ones who don’t yell at me.”

Me: “Really. Because I don’t want you dead or hurt ,I don’t love you?”

***

The conversation carried on for a while about why I don’t want him dead or hurt and what could happen to him if he doesn’t listen to the rules. Why rules are in place etc. Then he got frustrated.

Diggle: “I should just run away.”

Me: “Okay, well just remember it’s dark at night and you’d have to sleep in the forest. Your sister wouldn’t be there to wake up to go to the washroom with you...oh and you’d have to use leaves as toilet paper.”

Diggle: Squinting and glaring at me. I wouldn’t sleep in the forest. I’m not telling you where I would sleep.” Glares at me some more.

Me: “You’ll miss your sister.”

Diggle: “I’d see her at school. I’d still go to school you know.”

Me: “Who would make your lunches for school?”

Diggle squints at me some more while he processes this.

Me: “Also who would get your breakfast and dinner? I guess you could catch bugs for breakfast. They’re high in protein, but you’d better get up early to get enough so you don’t get hungry at snack time.”

Diggle: Squinting really hard now as he tries not to laugh too much. He gets up and walks off now rather than admit defeat.

Me: “I love you...can I have a hug?”

Diggle: “No!”

***

It took him about 5 minutes before he was back, sitting on my lap squeezing his arms around me tightly. He put his mouth really close to my ear and very softly whispered. “I love you too mommy.”

I think he’s planning on staying.

91

91, that's what my dad would've been turning today. Happy Birthday Dad.

It's been just over two years since he passed away.

My dad was not a hands on dad who did a lot of stuff with me, maybe it was different for my brothers, I should ask them. I was a late addition to the family, an after thought if you will. My mom always wanted a girl and at the last minute decided to try one more time. (I joke that she's regretted it ever since, but truthfully it's probably only during the teenage years from 14-18 that she had her doubts). I was the only girl with three older brothers. Maybe he just wasn't the sort of dad that got down on the floor and did stuff with you and that's okay, I'm not exactly that sort of parent either. He was however an incredible man and I never grew up wanting for much. We never had a lot of money for extravagances, but we always went on our camping trip holidays and were well taken care of. He taught me the value of being outdoors, doing family hikes in the mountains, trips to the dam to go sailing and I like to think gave me his gift of lateral thinking to make a plan when necessary. 

My dad was an exceptional man for his wealth of knowledge, I like to think if I inherited a fraction of his intelligence I will get by just fine. If we needed to know anything from chemical compounds to how to weld, he was our go to guy. He played a variety of sports through his years, from cricket, rugby, table tennis, hockey, ball room dancing to lawn bowls by the time he was elderly. He hiked the mountains, he was an avid amateur astronomer and a fantastic slight of hand magician, always entertaining our friends at birthday parties (while we cringed in case he made a mistake). He built us our first fold up caravan (camping trailer for you North Americans) before the collapsible models were on the market, it was a feat of engineering genius, with all the luxuries we could want. This was one of the reasons we were able to go on all those camping holidays. He welded security gates and fences for our home when things reached a point that we needed them. He also glued my burglar bars onto my bedroom window so I could no longer do nightly disappearing tricks when I was a teenager, but perhaps the less said about that the better.

He was a very quiet man, not very vocal unless shouting about injustices of the referee in the latest rugby match. I sometimes wish I'd got to know more of him as an adult, or sat down with him and asked him about his younger years, his time in the army and his family life as a kid. The only bit I know about his army days was during the war he broke his jaw while playing rugby for the army and spent most of his time recuperating at the Oppenheimer house in Johannesburg that had been turned into a convalescent hospital.

He did leave with me the extensive family tree, he did this in his younger years and traced it all the way back to Germany starting with relatives born before 1540. I have tried to continue it on and put all the information into digital copy along with the photos he left. He has left a legacy of 4 kids and 8 grandkids and I hope we have made him proud.

Murderous Tendencies

It's a wonder my kids are still alive, but that being said, I'l admit they have learnt to feed themselves and are pretty self sufficient, even the dog has learnt to bark at me when she wants dinner, and paw incessantly at her empty water bowl for a refill. However, before anyone calls child services, in this case it's okay, I'm referring to plants. Let's start two days ago. DH went to the store for a few items and came back with a potted hydrangea. I love hydrangeas they remind me of my moms garden back home, she always had an abundance of them in the flower beds, a testament to how easy they are to maintain and grow as like me, she was never a gardener. The plan I formed in my head was to keep it indoors for the next week or two then, when it's a bit warmer plant it in the garden for summer. We had the family over for Easter Dinner on Saturday night and my one sister in law commented on how hardy they are. I think she was insinuating I wouldn't kill it in the next two weeks. I laughed and said, "Give me time."

Honestly I have no ability to keep plants alive, but I did expect it to last longer than two days. I woke up this morning to a limp, flaccid (those are never good words in any context) plant. I have no idea what I did wrong. I gave it a glass of water yesterday, I didn't want to over water it. 

I'm attempting plant CPR as you read this, I'll let you know. 

... (update) it's responding to being drenched in the sink. I guess the poor thing was parched.

Remember me?

My mom asked me yesterday if I'd been writing my blog recently, which as you all know is a no. I replied that I hadn't been inspired by anything. It was at this point that DH pointed out a crucial fact. He's been happy.

Hmmmm, a happy DH, one who doesn't come home complaining about his job everyday and suddenly I have nothing to write about? I guess I'm one of those tormented writers who needs to be miserable for inspiration. I really hope that's not the case as I have no desire to be miserable.

Anyway since its been a few months so I'll post a quick catch up. I had my surgery, it went well. Recovery was more frustrating than anything else. I felt good and wanted to do more but wasn't allowed. I have however gained around 6 lbs from sitting on my ass doing nothing and at some point I need to get back to exercise. I could regale you with the countless shows I watched on Netflix but I'll save you from that unbearable level of excitement. I bet you're getting the picture as to the lack of blog posts now.

On the bright side, the hot flushes of medically induced menopause are a thing of the past. Now I can wait for them to come back naturally later in life, the joy of having to go through it more than once in your life is only reserved for very special people. On the other side, I still have my ovaries, so I still go through PMS, just without the M. I now never know if I'm hormonal or just being a bitch. It's very confusing, I found myself staring at the scale the other day unable to answer the question, "Am I bloated today or just fat?" Well sure the answer was probably both, but that's not the point, a girl likes to know when she can blame those extra 2 lbs on water retention. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, I feel better than I have in years, I'll take a bit of confusion any day!

Anyway spring is nearly here...well officially spring is here, but someone hasn't  told that Mother Nature yet because it's still freezing outside. Once it warms up we can get out camping and doing more exciting things, maybe I'll get my inspiration back then.

On the children front, I'll leave you with this gem I overheard from my kids bathroom the other night.

Princess: "Did you just fart while brushing your teeth?"

Diggle: "I'm multitasking."

Something I'll Never Be

I'm not skinny...hey there's a newsflash. Would I like to be thinner, yes, I won't deny that, that is why I go to weight watchers. I do however feel sorry for people who are so fixated on not gaining an ounce that they feel they have to justify if they post a picture of food. Case in point, a person I know casually, posted a picture of a burger, not a particularly big burger, it was at best, average size, there was no side of fries. She felt the need to justify that she had shared the burger with her husband. My first thought is what a sad life to only allow yourself to eat half a burger, a veggie burger at that. My second thought was that her poor husband must be malnourished unless she lets him order something extra. Fact is both of them run and workout religiously, they could afford to indulge in a whole burger when they go out to eat. Same person will post a picture of a cookie and proudly say, "I only had one bite, hubs ate the rest."  Now don't get me wrong, if you have a small appetite and can't finish a huge restaurant plateful good for you, I have those meals (occasionally) too. I bag them up and take them home to enjoy for lunch the next day though, I don't make my poor husband suffer through eating the other half and going home hungry.

Here's the thing, I will never be skinny, the best I can aim for is to fit into last years jeans when winter roles around. I'm okay with that. I don't want to be skinny and depriving myself of one of life's true joys. There are a few things in life that make some days tolerable. The smiles and hugs of your kids, sex, food, alcohol and good friends are amongst those that spring to mind immediately. 

Moving on from what we do or do not eat to people's warped version of what a good body size is, for which modern media is totally to blame. I saw this same person tweet a while back stating, "It’s not skinny jeans if you wear size 10 or higher …." Are you kidding me? Size 10 is not fat, where do you get off making someone feel bad about themselves because they are not a single digit size? It is thanks to people like you saying bitchy things like that that our daughters are suffering from eating disorders and thinking they need to starve themselves.  

I'm pretty sure that this person never reads my blog, and if they do they will know who they are and will probably unfollow and never tweet with me again. I have considered this before posting this and I came to the ultimate conclusion that I could live with that consequence, That tweet shows what is an obvious need to belittle others to make themself feel good.  I too like things in life that make me feel good and I'm done with people who irritate and annoy me.

Things the past year has taught me

The past year was one that was an eye opener in so many different ways. I learned so much about myself, about my family, about my friends. I was lying in bed last night thinking it through and decided to share some of my thoughts with you. One of the many joys of medically induced menopause is lots of time to think while you're unable to sleep.

Here are just a few gems that crossed my mind.

• I am a clutz and shouldn't be allowed near ice unless I have skates on. That's three trips to hospital now thanks to slips on the ice, yes one involved a lot of beer, but in general what this has taught me is I'm living in the wrong climate. Not once did I fall over on the beach sand and require hospitalization. I'm not saying I didn't fall over on the beach, there were days drinking champagne on the beach after diving...but no injuries occurred.

• If you have a sick kid, put them on the bottom bunk of the bed. Projectile vomiting travels so much further from the top bunk. I learned this one the other night, I won't say much more about it because it wasn't pleasant, just picture scenes from the exorcist amid soft cuddly toys and cream carpets.

• If you do buy your own birthday presents, don't short change yourself. I did. I got some much needed bras and underwear just for the kids to give me something, planning to go buy myself something nice. It never happened and it bugged me all year.  This year I may have to treat myself to something spectacular, perhaps some new socks too.

• I shouldn't store my naked selfies in the Cloud, okay I technically didn't learn this about myself or my friends thankfully, but it was something I'm sure we all learned this past year thanks to social media. Always useful to know, but to be honest I don't store anything in the cloud and if I had naked selfies they may break the Internet in a bad way...a really really bad way. Especially after the Christmas gluttony, no one ever needs to see that, not even me. 

• Cutting your dogs hair is hard, so much harder than a flailing kid who you can threaten into submission.  But if you cut it when the weather is cooler a bad haircut can be hidden by a doggy sweater, on the dog, not the kid, the kid will need a hat! 

• It is possible for a 9 year old boy to eat more in a day than a 48 year old man. I seriously worry about how much grocery shopping I'm going to need to do as he becomes a teenager. Between Diggle and the Monster Dog we have no need for a garbage disposal.

• I was enlightened to the fact that, raccoons can growl. Monster Dog still thinks she would've won that fight, I'm just saying, don't pick a fight with something bigger than you, biggest freakin raccoon ever! 

It was actually a year where I learned I could do scary things like go back to work after 10 years off. I realized sometimes the best friends are ones who leave you feeling happy after you've spent time with them. It was also a year where I learned no matter how much I plan and think I'm in control I will never know what is around the corner or which way life will take us. There is nothing you can do but hold on to the ones you love and try your best to enjoy what you can and get through the rest alive and relatively sane. (The last point is open for debate)

2015 - A new year, new possibilities

THIS, this describes my New Years plans completely! We're having a quiet one, a nice family dinner, maybe a fondue or steak and mushroom sauce. We can relax on the couch and watch a movie or some bad tv. We can cuddle the kids and pet the monster dog. Do not pity me and invite me out to a party, I am not free, I am doing nothing.

The honest truth is I am all socialed out after Christmas, so we are not going to a party or anywhere that involves being social and acting friendly.  I love Christmas, the parties, the festivities, having family over for dinner and getting together to open presents etc, but I reach a point after parties and gatherings when I am done. I'm tired of talking, I'm tired of thinking, I'm tired of eating and drinking.

I want to spend the next week mostly sitting on my couch or in my bed, with my iPad, a set of headphones in and just being alone. Sure, I will leave the house, I have a few things to do and a few places to be, but they will be necessities or things I choose to do.

So, 2015 will start off quietly, but that doesn't mean I'm not optimistic about all it holds. 2014 and 2013 were not great years, they certainly had their share of trials and tribulations. Surely our luck must turn? 2015 will be the year! Some may think this is a little strange for me to be optimistic considering I'm going in for major surgery in two weeks, but, DH has a job he is enjoying and after surgery I get to take some enforced R&R.  Once that's all done spring will be here and camping season can start. 

Just think of all the possibilities that await us, holidays, experiences, people we might meet, things we might do. Life in general, watching the kids mature that little bit more, becoming the people they are meant to be. Anniversaries, birthdays, sunsets and daydreams. What's not to look forward too?  Okay snap out of it, I'm sleep deprived and spent a good part of last night cleaning kids barff out of the carpet, 2015 can only get better.

Love

Yeah it's Christmas again, season of love and goodwill, blah blah blah. Actually for some reason it's around this time of year I turn into the Grinch. I'm 99% done with my shopping, fighting the crowds of bad tempered shoppers may have something to do with it. Anything else that we discover we need, DH can brave the crowds for. I still have my baking to do and to prep for the big Turkey and trimmings family dinner on Christmas Eve. So, not a whole lot, what is there to be Grinchy about? Well, I'm not really sure, but I'm very easily annoyed and upset this past week, maybe it's the hormones, it's the perfect excuse so we'll blame them this year that's for sure.

The thing is, I'm lying here in bed this morning contemplating life, Diggle and Princess just had a fight over Minecraft, I talked them down. Princess is now chilling in her room watching videos while Diggle is having his 'alone time' in the living room with Christmas music blaring at full volume (sorry neighbours I know it's not even 7:30am). The monster dog is lying on my lap staring up at me like I'm better than a fillet steak and I realized how lucky I am. What have I done to deserve so much love in my life? Not only from this dog who literally pines for me each time I go out, but from my kids, from DH. I know without a doubt that I am loved, that I am treasured and that I am the single most important person in all their lives. I somedays feel like I don't deserve that level of devotion, I'm by no means the best mom or wife. I suck at housework, I don't always read and help my kids do homework, it's a stretch somedays to ensure they have clean socks to wear to school. I don't even regularly walk the dog since it's cold out there!  I mostly eat dinner without DH as he's late home, I have very little patience for arguments and listening to woes, and yet they love me.

Growing up I found it difficult to tell people, yes even my family that I loved them. It wasn't something that was tossed around on an every day basis. In my house now, it is said multiple times, every single day, to and from everyone. It is tossed out as someone is leaving for work or for school, a simple, "Have a good day, love you." It is said for no reason other than the person is standing or sitting next to you. I constantly hear, "love you, mom." being said when there is a lull in conversation. It is even thrown back in your face when there is a fight or argument, "Well I love you, so fuck you." or "Yes, sweetie, I know you don't like me, but I love you so it doesn't matter." Actually a more adequate description if I am being honest is probably a "tough, I love you, go to your room if you're going to act  like a brat."

I don't really know what point I'm trying to make here, this was just a random realization that crossed my mind. I may be a Grinch, but I'm a very lucky, very loved Grinch and I can only wish that you are all loved too and are lucky enough to know it.

Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah or happy whatever else you may celebrate.
Ps. I love you all for reading my blog.

It's catch up time

It's time to come clean. I haven't been blogging for a while because there has been a lot going on in my life that I didn't want to talk about. First and foremost DH has been unemployed for 8 months. We didn't want to worry certain family members who had enough going on in their lives so we decided not to mention it.

In these 8 months of stress, I started working again, a temp contract, nothing exciting, but it kept us afloat. My contract ends in a week. Dh's new job starts in a week. Really good timing! 

So, what else has been going on in my life? Well, my mom is living with us for now, the kids are in grade 4, monster dog is still a monster. Oh and I am waiting to hear surgery date on when I will be having a hysterectomy. Yep, stressful times indeed. My endometriosis has been acting up again, I was pretty lucky to have many years after the twins were born where it seemed to stay dormant but alas, no more. Ontop of this I have an adenomysis, so the doctors are prepping me for surgery in January. To prep for this means they are giving me monthly injections to keep me in a medicated version of menopause. Yes, I'm going through the delightful mood swings, hot flushes and other joys that this brings. Is it starting to make sense why I haven't been around much? 

Of course I'm still a delight to live with and a constant joy to be around. At this point I'll mention that I read about a woman on this medication who killed her husband and has claimed the medication made her do it. I'm keeping that one in reserve if I need it. I'm also guessing I may weed out my true friends from those who just tolerate me. My true friends of course will be the ones who will still give me an alibi. 

I am from

I've seen a few other "I am from..." Pieces posted, I thought I'd give a try to writing my own. I am always asked when camping here where I am from, I'm never sure, do they mean originally in reference to my accent or where in Ontario?

I am from that house on the hill, the one where you could hear the ocean waves breaking at night.

I am from a family of 6, sometimes more.

I am from sunny skies, warm weather, braais and boerewors.

I am from the mountains, hiking, sailing, lying in the sun.

I am from picking avocados, mulberrys, guavas, pawpaws and lemons out the garden.

I am from smelling the franjapani tree outside my bedroom window.

I am from the smell of the hot African earth when it rains,

The smell of the ocean when the winds blew.

I am from diving the Indian Ocean, from Raggies cave to Cathedral.

I am from the days on the beach drinking champagne in the sun.

I am from the busy hustle and bustle of the flea markets to the stark reality of being searched every time you entered a shopping centre.

I am from hearing bombs rattle your windows as they exploded in town and shedding a tear for the life we knew.

I am from long lines and chaos on Election Day, from hope and dancing, from the "rainbow nation."

I am from living behind security gates, from bars on the window.

I am from starting a new life, in a new place.

I am from finding new family, new friends.

I am from snow, ice and four seasons.

I am from being torn between two lands.

I am from knowing home is in two places, always far away.

Books and dreams

I find myself appreciating the small moments of happiness lately, if I don't I may lose my mind completely. One of the biggest things that has me smiling each day is seeing my kids reading. Finally!!

Yes, finally they have discovered the joy of reading for fun. I cannot tell you how long I have struggled with this, and for someone who has always read books by the dozen it was a major concern for me. Diggle enjoyed a bit of reading the past year, but I had to force him to sit and read. Princess would only enjoy being read to. 

This year however we started by getting some graphic novels out the library, this set in motion them joining the reading club there. This means they set a goal and if they reach it they get a prize. Diggle set 50 books over summer. He reads quickly, I wasn't that concerned, he's at 20 odd already. Princess set a goal of 30...this had me a little worried. However she's on book 10 and going strong...and yes we've progressed to chapter books. She started her first chapter book of Nancy Drew last night and she's nearly finished it. 

I've always cherished the childhood adventures I went on through the aid of my books. I visited faraway lands, I solved mysteries and crimes, I even went to non existent, make believe places, I still do! Books fueled my already vivid imagination and helped me dream of my future. Books were my escape and I have always wanted that for my kids. 

Seeing them reading, (sometimes in the evening all lying on Grannies bed with her). Having them not wanting to put that book down to go to sleep. Catching them reading in bed an hour after lights out, using the light from the corridor outside to see the words. It all brings me more joy than I can express!

-----------

As an aside, I write this blog for my own ramblings, if you don't want to read it or think it's time wasting drivel don't read it. It was shortly after I posted my last blog that a friend commented on Facebook about mommy bloggers and how everyone considers themselves a writer because they blog. I don't ask you to read my blog, I don't consider myself a writer, even though I've written fiction stories, non fiction articles for web sites and yes I blog. I'm just someone who likes to write my thoughts down, if anyone else wants to read them, well that's up to them!

That time of year

Summer break, school vacation, moms nightmare...call it what you will, tomorrow is the last day of the school year. The kids have been going to school all week to do nothing, they've watched movies, played games had popcorn. I've heard other moms say why send them, I'll admit to being more of the, I don't care, they're going, get them out my house kind of mom though.

The kids, I'm convinced can smell my fear, my desperation that soon, too soon I will be subjected to cries of I'm hungry, I'm bored, mom (insert other kids name) won't play what I want to.  Time to try and get creative (but not messy creative I'm not that good of a mom.) Our big thing of the summer is two, week long camping trips which are always our hi-light and best part! However that still leaves me with seven weeks to try and amuse my kids. We'll do our usual routine this summer, a mix of trips to the library, quiet days at home, trips to the local splash pad and maybe a friends pool, walks at the lake with granny and maybe some time at the park. Perhaps a few trips to the liquor store may be in order too.

I can see other moms I know reading this and rolling their eyes, they think I'm mean, overly dramatic, yes maybe just a touch. Okay, I'll come clean, as the kids have gotten older it's gotten a lot easier. They run outside and play with their friends, play on the computer or their DS's and even get their own food. There are advantages to summer, no more homework, no more making lunches before school and no more realizing you have nothing to give kids for lunch at the last minute.

Don't be fooled though, I'll be the mom celebrating with a very large drink the day they go back to school in September.