Diary of a Whiny Bitch!

On my way to work a couple of days ago I found myself in tears at a red light; in fact I am tearing up just thinking about it. I was thinking about an argument that I had with my husband that morning that really shouldn’t have been an argument at all, it should have been two people supporting and encouraging each other but it turned into a pissing match over who was busier, whose day was the fullest, who put in the most effort. There wasn’t a winner and nor should there have been and at that moment I was feeling apologetic that those few minutes we are lucky enough to get together in the morning were wasted.

I was sitting at that red light with hot tears threatening to spill down my cheeks and ruin the make up I had carefully applied in the five minutes I had between making sure my daughters were out of bed and had something to eat before I ran out the door for work crossing my fingers that they would get to school on time. The haunting melody to James Blunts 1973 catapulted me out of my trance to answer the incoming call from my husband. 1973 is his ringtone not just because it is the year of his birth but because we have often danced to that the song when it comes on the radio. There just doesn’t seem to a be a lot of time to dance lately.

My husband had been working in the Alberta Oil sands for seven years. That is seven long years, working long hours in extreme weather and living in remote camps away from his family for 250 days out of a 365 day year. Circumstances led to him deciding to come home and try to run his business in Edmonton. It means even longer hours, a lot of worry about making ends meet and a great deal of faith but we all go to bed under the same roof every night and that is huge. I have returned to work full time as well so my job, my volunteer work, shuffling my kids activities and trying to make sure that my house doesn’t resemble a college dorm (and smell like one) gives me very little time to dedicate to my own sanity. My husband’s business is in infancy so he doesn’t have time to help me and I don’t have time to help him.

Insert frustration, lack of sleep, worry, not enough vegetables in your diet, yelling in place of talking, fear of epic mom failures and waking up with gray hairs where your eyebrows used to be and then the waterworks begin.

For ten days I have been promising myself a glass of wine and a kit kat bar. A “give myself a break” reward. In ten days I haven’t found the time. I really need to get my priorities straight!

As soon as I get to that last load of laundry, go on my fourteen year old daughters school zone which I haven’t signed into in six months (she swears she doesn’t have homework) and convince my 9 year old the importance of taking baths and showers I will get to it. The wine is waiting…..waiting….waiting. I hope it doesn’t turn to vinegar.

I was watching a show on my laptop in bed the other night and I remember the days where I used to envy an actresses hair, body or trendy clothes. Now I just envy how clean the houses are on TV. I am getting older by the second and my laundry is piling up, dust is accumulating in corners and the dishes that have not broken are in the dishwasher. The hot bath I had planned turned into a quick tepid shower followed by my oldest daughters forty five minute tropical shower.

I eat left-overs, I wear left overs, I pull grey hair out of places that shouldn’t even have hair, I calculate bills and schedules in my head as soon as it hits the pillows. I dream of days where there is nothing to do. I yell a lot and yet nobody hears me, I go to the store to get milk and come home with an armload of groceries and no milk.

I am a MOTHER, hear me ROAR, Ok I know, it sounds more like a yawn!! It’s 8 pm and I am yawning. My bottle of wine is looking at me disapprovingly, mockingly as if I’ve done it some disservice. I have no milk and no gas and very little patience.

I had a great laugh tonight with a friend about vaginas, penises, pasta salad and poop. I needed it and it is in those moments that I am reminded how lucky I really am. My kids are doing OK, they have food to eat, clothes to wear and they love their mama. Today they even cleaned the house and made cupcakes. I have a husband who works harder then any man I know and still asks me to dance at the end of the day. I don’t have a model’s body, a millionaires money, a show home, the patience of a saint or a mother of the year award but this whiny bitch has five free minutes, an open bottle of wine and 5 confetti cupcakes….dare me???

Love you all and happy Easter xoxox
Michelle

Mom’s everywhere, watch this and then pat yourself on the back because you ROCK!! Especially mine!

Keep Shining

Photo courtesy of http://www.gorillabrigade.com

Today didn’t feel quite right. I remember laying in bed this morning wide awake for quite some time because I had to pee very bad but I though I was uncomfortable I was too lazy to move. By the time I got up to pee it was time to get up anyways but I crawled back in bed and stole an extra fifteen minutes of cuddle time with my husband.

The day didn’t start unusually but from the minute I got to work I felt off and disorganized. I usually look at Mondays as an opportunity to regroup and start the week strong and fresh. In fact yesterday I went to church with a friend and we listened to a sermon on Vocational Health and I was actually quite excited to start the work week.

In the morning we had a visitor to our building who is going to be doing some work here for another company, he didn’t have an appointment but I generously let him in any way and allowed him look around. I called our Maintenance Manager to let him know and then shoved my phone into my pocket. A couple of minutes later I bent down to pick up my keys and the phone took a hard thud on the concrete. The screen had some minor cracks but the inside touch screen had issues and one side of the phone was green. I felt instantly deflated.

I was recounting my story to the mail lady when she came in and she told me she had met a co-worker for coffee and she had a bad day, she got bit by a dog, fell in a mud puddle and dropped her phone down a manhole. She had me beat and since bad things happen in threes she was done!

The mail lady said her goodbyes with a promise to see me the next day. I looked at her like she had three heads and said “You will not see me on a Saturday!” She abruptly laughed and then looked at me with a mixture of sympathy and amusement as she reminded me that it was only Monday.

Five minutes later I broke a mug in my office and sent coffee and broken glass flying everywhere. After cleaning it up I decided maybe it was time to take lunch. I enjoy texting with my teenage daughter on her lunch hour and I was able to turn my phone sideways and with a little bit of difficulty I asked how her day was and told her I broke my phone. She replied that maybe it would make me feel better to know her heart was broken? My heart swelled and I texted back “Why?” She said people hurt her feelings everyday. I replied that those people do not matter to which she replied that some of them do. I replied, “Close your eyes and picture yourself peeing on them. Now that you have peed on them they do not matter!”

Her reply to my Mother of the year advice was “LMAO I love You”

Feeling just like I imagine a mother of the year would feel I laughed and contemplated another witty reply but somehow my already broken phone slipped out of my hands and hit the floor with a tragic thud. The phone is now broken beyond repair and it could be up till three days until I receive another. The screen is just black but the blue notification light flashes mockingly!!

Mondays are awesome!! I spent the rest of my afternoon at work hoping that my fourteen year old daughter was not at school peeing all over people. She wouldn’t even be able to text me. 😦

I have the words of a Dionne Warwick ballad, keep smiling, keep shining….” playing over and over in my head like a bad dream. That is what I will do universe, I am damn well going to dust myself off and keep shining!


How was your day?

Chicken Wings and Silly Things

Find the sunshine in everyday
Find the sunshine in everyday

I really shot myself in the foot by putting it in writing that I had a free five minutes in my last post. At the end of that evening I was exhausted and I was so ready for sleep when I crawled into bed only to discover that my cat had pissed in the middle of my bed.

Apparently she is annoyed with me for going back to work and decided to show her displeasure in a big way.

After a tedious clean up and new bedding I stretched out for a short(er) but glorious sleep. I was on the verge of exquisite slumber when hubby came to bed and as usual turned on the fan in our adjoining washroom. He needs the white noise and I despise it. I wake up several times a night thinking the heat is going and then lay awake stressing about my electric bill. Sometimes from overuse the fan begins to act up and I will wake thinking a helicopter is landing on the roof. Not a great feeling. I remember the 3 1/2 months I spent in the hospital pregnant with Haley and the Helipad landing was directly above my room. I would hear that thing at all hours and near pee my pants. Perhaps that is what happened to Kitty, she had the piss scared out of her.

Yesterday was a good and upbeat day at work and I managed to leave in time to rush home and drive Haley to music lessons, pop by work for another 40 minutes, stop and get groceries, make a quick (but late) dinner for the girls, put in laundry and then go for wing night at the local pub with hubby. He wanted to take me out so we could have a chat with me….intriguing! I ordered a corona and listened intently as my husband told me that we had to put my cat to sleep, that she has been terrorizing the mailman and the local children and that on top of refusing mail delivery the mailman had put in a complaint with the city. He looked at me sadly with a sympathetic shrug and hand squeeze. Good try hubby, good try!

I never wanted a cat but Kirk saved her almost ten years ago from certain death and she chose me as her person and it will continue to be that way!

We shared some pub grub and some laughs together. I really wanted to opt for fuzzy jammies and a night on the coach but we really enjoyed each others company. My husband is really good at recognizing when we just need a step away from the ordinary.

Life doesn’t always have to be extraordinary, we just have to grasp onto the moments that make us happy and focus on making time for more of those with the people we love!

Haley just called to tell me her sister called her the asshole of the family. I assured her that there are several assholes in the family but she is not at the top of the list. She asked if she could have ice cream. The kid has her priorities.

Tonight I took Morgan to practice, stopped by the YMCA to sign a paper, picked up the items I went to the grocery store for… spent $164 and came home without, picked up Morgan’s new phone and got a haircut.

My hair had gotten so long and it is incredibly thick. I needed a trim and a “fix-up” because I tried to trim my own bangs. At first I thought they looked pretty spy but as the days went on I kept trying to even it up and I was truly buthering it.

I laid back at the hairdresser while the nice young lady from the Phillipines washed my hair. It felt so great laying back with warm water running on my head. I wanted to stay forever.

It’s 10 pm and I finally got something to eat, put my jammies on and crawled in bed to watch Greys Anatomy re-runs. My house is a disaster but I can’t find the desire to care!

It has been brutally cold. This morning it was -37 with the wind chill eeek. The good news is the days are getting longer. I love the pink sky and the rising sun as I drive to work in the morning and the fiery ball nestled above the trees as I drive home.

Sometimes it’s the little things

Candlelight Confessions

Morgan at Sportsworld Roller Disco

I am a self diagnosed night owl and have a problem going to bed, in the same token when I stay up till all hours of the night (technically morning) I am not exactly excited in the morning when my alarm goes off. I do however have a great appreciation for the early morning hours the rare time I experience them. I like that the floor is cool on my feet and the weather hasn’t quite been decided. I like the smell of fresh brewed coffee and the warmth of a fuzzy robe. I like the sound of the traffic as early morning commuters start their day.  However I also like the quiet of the late evening hours with pale shimmering moonlight struggling to peek through the slats in the blinds. I am writing by candlelight with the drone of classic rock radio in the background contemplating how I can manage to enjoy my late evenings and still manage to see early mornings. It seems a challenge, especially for someone like me who also enjoys sleep. It was 3 am this morning when I crawled into bed. I love that feeling of lying on my belly, stretching out my limbs and sinking into the warm comfort of my bed, quickly contemplating my day and taking a moment to smile and be thankful for the good parts.

This week I was extra thankful for a long weekend, it really seemed to last for an eternity. On Friday Morgan turned 14. Where does the time go? Hubby is away working so we decided to take off after the Remembrance day ceremony at school and have a girls fun day! Morgan had the opportunity to design her custom Antiks .

Antik Skate Boots are born of passion, design and quality, brought together by Mo Sanders aka “Quadzilla”, a lifetime skater who put his heart and soul into the process and design of the way roller skate boots were made. Morgan started Roller Derby when she was ten (almost 11) and these are her dream skates. They are pricey but I am told they are worth every penny.

After a day a Roller Skate shopping, clothes shopping and dinner we picked up a friend of hers and one of mine and we went to the local Roller Disco. My friend commented on how it appears that Morgan seems at home on skates and this is true. On skates she feels free and content. Haley as well loves the freedom of skating till your hearts content with disco lights and loud music. I admit it is hard not to get caught up in the atmosphere. I am not fearless like my girls but I strapped on a pair of vintage rentals and happily rolled around to classics such as I love Rock and Roll and Don’t Stop Believin. I really did have fun.

Morgan introduced me to the world of live streaming movies so I watched more movies in one weekend then I usually watch in a year. At one point Morgan and I were curled up in front of a roaring fire watching a romantic comedy while Haley gallivanted around the rec-room in her make-shift dance attire watching Dance Moms on YouTube and making her own dance routines. Then Haley would come hang with me while Morgan watched the WFTDA championships (Women’s Flat Track Roller Derby Assoc.).

I got to hug my girls, stay up late, sleep in, make good meals, read stories of war recollections out loud so that they can truly understand the meaning behind Remembrance Day and share some big hugs and laughter too. I got to talk to them candidly about current events, issues that they will one day face and give them my special blend of Mom wisdom that I am sure they cannot get enough of.  Alas all good things must come to an end and without a fight to stay up late they snuggled into their beds and fell fast asleep.

I immediately missed my husband. I realized that though we texted in the morning and when he got off work we hadn’t spoken on the phone. By the time I realized how much I missed the sound of his voice it was way too late to call. He will be rising early as he always does, facing a frosty morning and a full workload.

So as my candle flickers, illuminating the darkness I am a little lonesome but very thankful for my husbands work ethic and dedication and how it affords me the time to raise our girls and not allow society to do all their rearing.

I am thankful for so many things, not the least of which being the remarkable sacrifices those who have served our country past and present have made so that we can enjoy our beautiful country and live free.

Haley and I skating at the Roller Disco!!

All The Kings Horses and all the Kings men…Thousand Acre Heart Part 19

Thousand Acre heart is a story of adoption, of heartbreak, of redemption and of two hearts being reunited in love. There is no end to this story but you can start from the beginning HERE

The day I signed the adoption papers giving Jeffrey the life that he deserved, one I was fairly certain I wasn’t capable of giving him at sixteen changed me. For years I wasn’t the person I was supposed to be. I allowed myself to be shamed into silence and in turn I didn’t enter into friendships openly and honestly. There was a part of me that I kept under lock and key for so long that I wasn’t being all that I could be. Periodically I would trust someone enough to break down my walls a little but it was rare. I liked the anonymity of living in a big city and getting out of a small town where I was ‘that girl!” but my heart never really recovered. There was a void in me that caused a great deal of insecurity and I believe caused me to lack confidence in myself and in turn make some bad choices. For all the promises I made and broke over the years the most important one, the one I made to a bright eyed, dark haired newborn baby, I kept forever. “I will love you forever, never will a day go by that I won’t think of you” I have no idea how other birth moms feel or have felt but for me, I never gave up the worry that comes with parenthood. In thinking about him everyday of his life and not knowing if he was OK I worried a lot. I hoped his Mom kissed his skinned knees and tucked him each night and loved him more then anything in the world. I also felt an unmistakable guilt over the births of our girls. Almost as if I didn’t deserve the happiness or it somehow diminished the love I felt for the boy I couldn’t hold. When Jeffrey contacted me a healing began. His love and acceptance built a bandage for my troubled heart and allowed me to forgive myself for not being in his life. Knowing that he was happy, that he had a good life should have been enough. I didn’t dare ask or expect more but what happened between us was a natural progression that neither of us could have prepared for. It didn’t take away from my love for my children or he from his parents but it added to and enriched our lives in a way that has made me feel complete. I finally felt in the drivers seat in my own life, confident of who I was and owning the decisions I had made along the way, right or wrong because they had brought me here to this moment. Jeffrey and I conversed for about seven months. I talked about him to everyone who would listen. He in turn was probably feeling a little of what I felt for all those years. Unsure of who he was, not certain of how to embrace this craziness he had been thrown into without hurting his family. It was like navigating a country road without a compass. The maturity he continues to display in regards to all the decisions that were made regarding him, affecting him but without his knowledge makes it easy to forget that he is the child in all this. His faith in goodness and his kind spirit has helped guide me. We decided that Edmonton would be the best place for us to reunite face to face. With both of our families in Truro it would place a lot of unnecessary pressure on us and it was important that the reunion be about us. Mother and child. If I was asked to describe this process I would liken it to climbing a mountain. Slow and steady on the way up, marveling at the views, taking smalls steps, taking care not to fall, holding your breath sometimes because you are not sure what step you should take next, all the while knowing that the beauty was in the climb. Jeffrey landed in Edmonton on a beautiful Friday evening in September. Kirk and I had decided that I was going to go get him at the airport. Any advice that was given to me by well wishers all suggested the same, that the initial reunion should just be Jeffrey and I. The day of I was a complete mess. A bundle of frayed nerves. I couldn’t eat, hadn’t slept and my nervous stomach had me in the washroom every five minutes. Kirk poured me a glass of wine while I talked to a friend on the phone. I am not sure how many times he refilled it but my nervousness subsided, as did my ability to drive safely to the airport. Kirk insisted on driving but was going to stay in the truck. We arrived a bit early so Kirk parked and decided to walk me into the airport and keep me company but leave before Jeffrey’s plane landed. Plans are plans but even the best laid plans sometimes fall apart mid flight. Kirk was so excited for me, so thrilled to be a part of my life changing I couldn’t imagine him not being there when Jeffrey stepped off the plane. The waiting was excruciating. Kirk and I waited as close to the doors as possible, hand in hand, giddy with anticipation, as friends and family were reunited one by one. The plane emptied quickly at first and then slowly a passenger or two here and there descended the stairs. Kirk was hilarious through it all, keeping me upbeat, trying to convince me that the young Asian guy coming down the stairs was probably my son, or maybe the Hawaiian guy, or perhaps the 70 year old plaid loving granddad. After what seemed like an eternity my boy came down the stairs. He was bubbling over with excitement about the baby that he helped deliver on the plane. He detailed the account of the events that unfolded during the flight that led to him assisting in the birth of a bouncy baby. We were astonished and intrigued. It turned out the story was bogus, but a great ice breaker. Something weird happened and it happened very quickly, twenty years faded away until there was nothing separating us. What could have been, and should have been weird was quietly comfortable. Two hours and several cocktails later nobody would have guessed that years and miles and questions had ever separated us. Well wishing friends wanting to share in our excitement met us at the restaurant intending to have one drink with us and move on. It was an exciting evening for everyone and next thing you know we were all at their home bar, with all the makings of an all nighter! There was dancing and laughter, memories that would last forever. As the sun was coming up Jeffrey’s head lowered unto the bar and his eyes closed in much needed slumber. Somehow I helped maneuver my stocky, over six feet tall boy up the stairs and to a bedroom where he could catch a couple of hours of sleep. At twenty years old I tucked my boy in for the VERY first time. I stepped outside the door and tears of complete joy spilled over my cheeks. All the Kings horses and all the Kings men couldn’t have put me back together again but finally, for the first time in twenty years I felt complete.

Game Called life

Courtesy of momlogic.com

I had one of those days. Not only am I sick to death of Miley videos, jokes, references, tweets, and innuendo, as well as devastated by the events happening in Syria I have had my own personal struggles in the form of a hormonal teenage daughter, a truck that won’t start and a husband that is hours away for the next ten days. All things considered I know that I have it so much better than a lot of people. My husband may be away but he offered to drive home to my rescue. For those of you who know me, you are aware that as much as I may think I want to be rescued it would make me feel weak and needy. I have the most wonderful friends that jumped at the chance to come to my rescue and gave me something I didn’t even know I needed. A moment to breathe, to laugh, to share a glass of wine with friends. A moment to feel like it was OK to be something other then a wife and a mother. Sometimes I need to just be me. Also, my teenage daughter really is amazing. However, she is sometimes an emotional ball of hormones that she doesn’t quite know how to handle and we are trying so hard to navigate a neatly painted line somewhere in-between crying and screaming. I am trying hard to raise a smart, capable and accountable young lady in a world full of entitled youth of Generation “I”

Recently I have been faced with that all too familiar struggle of trying to split 200% of myself between all the things that matter in my life. When one thing requires more attention I seem to lose my balance and the balls I am juggling come crashing down. I stand tall against whatever I am faced with in life but sometimes I feel like I am inevitably going to fall.

I know that a lot of people feel how I am feeling right now. Wondering how they can be everything they need to be to the people in their lives and still have enough left over for themselves. I know how important it is to take time for myself. If I were to give advice to any of my friends I would most definitely tell them that they are the most important person in their lives and they need to make the time for themselves. Giving advice is always the easy part.

It has been fifteen months since I quit my job to stay at home. My biggest fear was losing myself, being insignificant and dependent. I think my family has absolutely benefited from me being home but often I feel I am spending way too much time trying to convince them that I am not a maid. I am an involved parent, sometimes to the point that I am not the wife I would like to be or a good friend to myself. I am still figuring it all out. I don’t strive for perfection, just quiet imperfection and happiness. I pray sometimes and I still wish on stars.

My goal is laugh more, to steal time for myself to do the things that are important to me, to say no to things that I don’t have time for and that add stress that I don’t need. I want to experience the moment without worry or anticipation of the next. I want to be present and accounted for in my own life. I want to learn from my mistakes without holding myself in constant judgment. I want to expect less of people but quietly encourage more. I want to abandon the idea of who I think I should be and be the person I know I can be. I want to love more, and forgive things that weigh me down.

Here I go….wish me luck as I continue to play my hand at this game called life!

P.S. I also need to make more time for wine!!

Game Called Life (The Big C Main Title) by Leftover Cuties

It’s so hard to turn your life over
Step out of your comfort zone
It’s so hard to choose one direction
When your future is unknown
Is this some kind of a joke, will someone wake me up soon?
And tell me this was just a game we played, called life.
Are we, are we all really slaves?
By the hands of ourselves
id I really make all of those mistakes?
Am I really getting older?Then why do I feel so lost?
Is this some kind of a joke, will someone wake me up soon?
And tell me this was just a game we played, called life.
And at the end of the road, is there someone waiting?
Do I get a medal for surviving this long?
Is this some kind of a joke, will someone wake me up soon?
And tell me this was just a game we played, called life.
Is this some kind of a joke, will someone wake me up soon?
And tell me this was just a game we played, called life.

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Talking with teens

Photo compliments of http://imgfave.com/

“why fit in when you were born to stand out? -Dr. Suess

It has been a busy week and even though I have a beautiful new laptop and plenty to say on a multitude of subjects, I took a little hiatus to catch up with friends and hang out with my daughters. It may seem a little lazy but below is a quote taken directly from Facebook, it is advice I gave to my daughters thirteen year old friend after a post she made about society and it’s ugliness. So many teens feel that they are not good enough, not skinny enough, not pretty enough, unloved and unwanted.

Why is this? Are we as parents letting our kids know how loved, beautiful and important they are. Are we teaching them the true meaning of beautiful?

I think of my children when they were first born, as pure as the mountain air. All of our children were born that way. Who taught them to hate themselves, dislike their bodies, feel they weren’t good enough? Who taught them to judge themselves and others by an unrealistic version of perfect?

Every single person that notices that something is wrong in society has a responsibility to help change it, man, woman or child. We will never right all the wrongs in the world but we can begin by loving ourselves and showing our children how important that is. If a person truly loves themselves they will love others, not for the clothes they wear, their body type or the way they wear their hair.

Self love is the most important kind of love. When a child loves themselves they make healthy decisions that are in their best interests as an expression of how they feel about themselves. People with no self worth make bad choices inviting people into their lives that can do them harm.

I could rant on about this for hours. I have a teenage daughter that I have to constantly prepare for the big bad world. I have found that the two best ways to teach my daughter how to love herself are:

A) Love myself. Show her I love who I am, with all my quirks and flaws, I embrace all that I am.

B) Love her. Love her enough to say no to her and have her dislike me, show her boundaries and teach her right from wrong. Love her even when I don’t like her much. Focus on the qualities that make her beautiful, her kindness, her enthusiasm, her compassion, her desire to help others. Teach her that happiness is beautiful and that true beauty shines through perceived flaws.

“Wherever you are in life be the soul of that place. The first step in changing society is changing yourself and realizing that imperfect is perfect. Beauty is everywhere and it can’t often be seen with your eyes but it sure can be felt with the heart. Be the light in a world of darkness…that will be amazing. ♥”