I just re-heated my coffee for the 5th time.
I'm not lying, nor exaggerating. FIVE TIMES!!
How hard is it to make a cup of coffee and just drink it?
Well, that depends; are you a Mom?
Every Saturday morning, I make bacon and eggs complete with toast and sometimes fried potatoes (depending on what time I went to bed the night before, or how much I'm feeling like Superwoman, or let's be honest; it truly depends on how much effort I want to put into making something only half of the brood enjoys).
But after serving 7 mouths, I finally sit down to enjoy my eggs, and yup; my coffee is cold.
I held it up for my son last Saturday. "Could you put this in the microwave for 30 seconds?"
The debate was whether or not just to make me a new cup, but really; twas no debate at all!
Could you imagine making me a new cup of coffee??!!!! It honestly takes me 3 hours, and 5 re-heats just to have time to drink the first one!!! Why on EARTH would they make me a new one and prolong this coffee into mid afternoon?!
I do everything in increments of five minutes.
Flip a load of laundry, fold half a load, make a few beds, peel some potatoes, dry a few dishes, vaccuum a room, get dressed, and in between I clean, taxi children, wipe a nose, wipe a bum, wipe some dirt off a face with a spit shine, wipe a hair in place, and threaten to wipe a grin off a face.
And those things that take longer than 5 minutes; well forget about it.
All things that take longer than 5 minutes you will either cease to enjoy or try to get done in 5 minutes so that you will not be interrupted.
Such things include; showers, eating a meal from start to finish, watch a tv show, getting ready to go out, read a book (or even a chapter of a book), prepare and cook a meal, cleaning your house in one day, enjoying a coffee, time with friends (unless you bring your little minions with to the friends house or "forget" your phone at home), and of course; sleep.
I have found that as my children get older, it does become a little easier. They are gone during the day, and yet I still find myself ingrained in 5 minutes.
I start to clean my kitchen after they leave, and realize, I should fold the laundry because it's been in the basket since yesterday, and it's sitting on that table I have to wipe.
When I'm folding some socks and one has a hole, I make my way to the garbage to throw out the sock, and I realize I should empty the garbage.
As I take the garbage to the garage, I see in the back hall, that my child has left a binder at home, and so quickly slip on my shoes, with no socks (because they have yet to be folded), and drive the binder to school.
Getting home, I realize the garbage is still by the door, so I finally bring it into the garage.
Upon entering the garage, there is a coat, which is dirty and should be thrown into the wash, which reminds me the laundry. Oh yes, I must still fold those socks!
But when I enter my home to fold the socks, there is one sock that fell to the floor by the closet, and I remember as I reach down to pick it up that yesterday I was going to clean out that hall closet.
I open the closet door;
But what was I doing before all this?
I stand there for 5 minutes and try to go back in my mind to where I was when this all started and then I remember; Oh yes, I was cleaning my kitchen, and still have not finished!!!
It sounds exhausting, and I should be, by all accounts, ready for a nap; but it's 9 a.m.
My brain is but spaghetti I realize, because one idea (noodle) is very difficult to pull away from the pile without twenty more noodles clinging to it.
I jump from thing to thing, knowing that the final destination is just to empty my plate of what I must do today.
And when I finally sit down at the end of the day with that laundry basket of socks,
I am thankful that my husband did not come home and ask me, "What did you do all day?".
Because my answer would be a resounding "Nothing, and everything".
He wouldn't understand, but that's ok. It's the same reason he doesn't understand why when I'm in the shower and the three year old is banging on the door that I don't answer her.
I like to think that if she doesn't hear me speak, then maybe she'll just wonder if the shower is running for no reason, and that her Mother is, well; gone. Gone to a far away place where there is a waterfall, a bar of soap, shampoo, and me; just me.
You may think I'm exaggerating, and although I have been known to do that, I am not. This post took me 5 weeks to write.
I have had this writing saved in my drafts for FIVE WEEKS!
I work on it in 5 minute increments when time allows, which is not very often.
And as I quickly try to finish off this post;
I have two teenagers arguing about who ate the left over pizza for lunch. Paw patrol is on in the other room, with a 3 year old steadily increasing the volume. A 16 year old asking me how long it will be until I'm off the computer, and a bus with 3 more children on their way home from school. In fact, they'll be here in 5 minutes;
Maybe if I'm lucky, I can finish my coffee from this morning, and go to the bathroom before it is occupied.
But more than likely, I will dump the coffee down the drain, and as I open the dishwasher to load the cup, I will realize that it is half full of clean dishes; because I started to unload it this morning, and then I saw a spider that needed to be killed on the floor, and when I killed it, I realized how dirty my floor was........
Wednesday, November 2, 2016
Wednesday, September 21, 2016
Special Moms for Special Needs?
I forgot my cape today!
And I left my super powers in bed, tucked under my pillow.
I stepped out of bed and I forgot that I should have put on all my super power gear because I needed to be super Mom.
Oh wait; that's just a dream. It's just me. A woman who is trying the best she can to navigate through waters she has not been.
Only I'm on a raft, with no paddle, no compass, and no life jacket. So I will sit here and enjoy the ride.
My Mom always told me that I wouldn't understand why she did what she did until I had my own children, and boy was she right.
The whole, "...just wait till you have your own"...although I still believe deserved my eye rolling, was so true!! I just didn't know it.
I realize something now that I did not realize in the first 6 years of my son's life.
That for special needs, you don't get special Moms.
You simply get women who fight, love and do not give up...EVER.
I prefer to think of myself as his number one fan, his biggest advocate, his teacher and his rock. I have no hidden super powers, talents, or gifts. In fact, I think I'm pretty regular. I'd actually say I'm on a border line of "unspecial" if I was perfectly honest.
I teeter on a fence most days of what to do, what to say, how to say it, and how to live it.
For most people when they see my son, they think many things;
"He's not that bad if he is on the spectrum." "He's fine".
And in a perfect world, if he knows what to expect, and the day has the same order, same routine and same shirt, he's ok.
Throw in a class trip, his favourite shirt in the wash, or a day he's been regulating himself so hard to be "normal", this raft I'm on starts to sway and dip and rock in the torrents of waves, and winds that I do not know how to control.
And today I felt I almost slipped off my raft into these waters. I was folding laundry, and what did I see but this;
To most, what you see is folded laundry. Piles for kids, and yet, there was my sons on the end. ONE shirt, and ONE pair of pants. I realized then, that I must have let him wear the same shirt for almost an entire week!!! How did I miss that?! How did I miss that he had but one shirt he wore. This is typical for him, but usually I try to convince him to change it after 2 wears. How did I fail as a Special Needs Mom?!!! Should I not be better than this?!
But I am "just" a Mom. And it's no different I suppose then trying to figure out my other 5 kids.
I'm left trying to figure out not only how to maintain a house with a 16 year old who has teenage problems, and life; and a 3 year old who wants to dress herself; even though those hot pink shorts and light pink shirt are so not the way to go;
but I'm also trying to manage all the in between stages of life, school, home, bookkeeping and a special needs son.
My husband got a letter of recommendation the other day for doing a job so well on renovating a kitchen.
Sentences such as "...his team was absolutely amazing", "...very professional and reliable", "...timely manner", "...are the best in the area", "...beautiful...high end quality.", and " ...Thank you".
Yes, for sure, if you need a house built or a renovation, he is quite something. He is a "Jack of all trades...and he can do it". Insert business card here :)
I was happy and pleased for him, honestly I was.
But when I went to my mailbox today, sadly, there was no letter for me.
There was no one telling me that I am doing a great job, or that I am the best Mom in the area. I do not receive reassurance that I am amazing, or reliable, and there is seldom, if ever a thank you.
My life (and hair) is often messy, deadlines are not always met, quality is sometimes missed, and some days I'd rather let them watch tv than hearing them argue.
But I do love, and I do it FIERCLY. I do it when I say "No", or when I take away a privilege. I do it when I call the paediatrician weekly, and I'm sure they'd rather not pick up, or when I read more articles than I understand. I love them when I cook, clean and wash, and when I drive them for their sports and school.
When I give them chores, or not allow them to do something they so desperately want to do, I am loving them. They just can't always see it.
But I believe my biggest challenge as a Mom today is trying to teach my children that what is good for the goose is not always good for the gander. Trying to show them that what I didn't do for them and I do for my son is not spoiling. I have raised them all so similar, and now I have to raise one different, because he is so.
And it's hard. Being a Mom is HARD.
So to all you Moms out there;
consider this your letter of recommendation.
Dear Mom;
I am writing this letter to you in reference in regards to all you Moms.
I have the pleasure of being among you, the elite group that call yourself Mom.
You are amazing. You are holding your profession well and are reliable in fulfilling your task.
Your quality of work is second to none. You clean and work and do what you do always in a timely manner; the time deemed and set by your employees.
The people you are working with are the best in the area, because they are yours.
From the 16 year old who thinks you are too hard on them, and the 3 year old who wants to do everything on their own, to the special needs boy who has made life special; they all have individual tasks in your job, which will allow you to push yourself to limits you never thought you'd be able to achieve.
You are the "Jack of all trades", and no matter what needs to be done, you can do it.
You are hard working and I am pleased at how beautiful your heart is, your strength, and your courage.
Thank you Moms for being who you are!
And so, I wish I could go and grab my cape now, while I fly off to do the various things I am called to do.
I sometimes think it would be nice as a Mom to have x-ray vision, super powers, super speed, or super strength, but I don't.
I'm just me, on this raft, floating along the ocean of life, and this raft is not even my own.
I'm clinging on to a rope of faith behind it, because I have precious cargo that is on it.
I do not know where this raft is going, or how I will get there most days. But all I can hope is that when I hit shore, I have survived.
I may be beaten, broken, and changed, but I will land knowing that the journey was hard, but that I made it.
And when I take in the sight of the beautiful vacant white sanded beach that I finally land upon...and I think I am alone, and that I have finally finished my travels, I will not be surprised when I hear someone yell, "Mmmmmom".
Because that is what I am, and always will be. But I hope that I will know that the job of Mom and the journey of being Mom, has made me who I am.
And although the journey is tough and surprising, I can only cling to the hope that my children will see that the journey of life is absolutely worth it, and hopefully it prepares them for a journey of their own.
And I left my super powers in bed, tucked under my pillow.
I stepped out of bed and I forgot that I should have put on all my super power gear because I needed to be super Mom.
Oh wait; that's just a dream. It's just me. A woman who is trying the best she can to navigate through waters she has not been.
Only I'm on a raft, with no paddle, no compass, and no life jacket. So I will sit here and enjoy the ride.
My Mom always told me that I wouldn't understand why she did what she did until I had my own children, and boy was she right.
The whole, "...just wait till you have your own"...although I still believe deserved my eye rolling, was so true!! I just didn't know it.
I realize something now that I did not realize in the first 6 years of my son's life.
That for special needs, you don't get special Moms.
You simply get women who fight, love and do not give up...EVER.
I prefer to think of myself as his number one fan, his biggest advocate, his teacher and his rock. I have no hidden super powers, talents, or gifts. In fact, I think I'm pretty regular. I'd actually say I'm on a border line of "unspecial" if I was perfectly honest.
I teeter on a fence most days of what to do, what to say, how to say it, and how to live it.
For most people when they see my son, they think many things;
"He's not that bad if he is on the spectrum." "He's fine".
And in a perfect world, if he knows what to expect, and the day has the same order, same routine and same shirt, he's ok.
Throw in a class trip, his favourite shirt in the wash, or a day he's been regulating himself so hard to be "normal", this raft I'm on starts to sway and dip and rock in the torrents of waves, and winds that I do not know how to control.
And today I felt I almost slipped off my raft into these waters. I was folding laundry, and what did I see but this;
But I am "just" a Mom. And it's no different I suppose then trying to figure out my other 5 kids.
I'm left trying to figure out not only how to maintain a house with a 16 year old who has teenage problems, and life; and a 3 year old who wants to dress herself; even though those hot pink shorts and light pink shirt are so not the way to go;
but I'm also trying to manage all the in between stages of life, school, home, bookkeeping and a special needs son.
My husband got a letter of recommendation the other day for doing a job so well on renovating a kitchen.
Sentences such as "...his team was absolutely amazing", "...very professional and reliable", "...timely manner", "...are the best in the area", "...beautiful...high end quality.", and " ...Thank you".
Yes, for sure, if you need a house built or a renovation, he is quite something. He is a "Jack of all trades...and he can do it". Insert business card here :)
I was happy and pleased for him, honestly I was.
But when I went to my mailbox today, sadly, there was no letter for me.
There was no one telling me that I am doing a great job, or that I am the best Mom in the area. I do not receive reassurance that I am amazing, or reliable, and there is seldom, if ever a thank you.
My life (and hair) is often messy, deadlines are not always met, quality is sometimes missed, and some days I'd rather let them watch tv than hearing them argue.
But I do love, and I do it FIERCLY. I do it when I say "No", or when I take away a privilege. I do it when I call the paediatrician weekly, and I'm sure they'd rather not pick up, or when I read more articles than I understand. I love them when I cook, clean and wash, and when I drive them for their sports and school.
When I give them chores, or not allow them to do something they so desperately want to do, I am loving them. They just can't always see it.
But I believe my biggest challenge as a Mom today is trying to teach my children that what is good for the goose is not always good for the gander. Trying to show them that what I didn't do for them and I do for my son is not spoiling. I have raised them all so similar, and now I have to raise one different, because he is so.
And it's hard. Being a Mom is HARD.
So to all you Moms out there;
consider this your letter of recommendation.
Dear Mom;
I am writing this letter to you in reference in regards to all you Moms.
I have the pleasure of being among you, the elite group that call yourself Mom.
You are amazing. You are holding your profession well and are reliable in fulfilling your task.
Your quality of work is second to none. You clean and work and do what you do always in a timely manner; the time deemed and set by your employees.
The people you are working with are the best in the area, because they are yours.
From the 16 year old who thinks you are too hard on them, and the 3 year old who wants to do everything on their own, to the special needs boy who has made life special; they all have individual tasks in your job, which will allow you to push yourself to limits you never thought you'd be able to achieve.
You are the "Jack of all trades", and no matter what needs to be done, you can do it.
You are hard working and I am pleased at how beautiful your heart is, your strength, and your courage.
Thank you Moms for being who you are!
And so, I wish I could go and grab my cape now, while I fly off to do the various things I am called to do.
I sometimes think it would be nice as a Mom to have x-ray vision, super powers, super speed, or super strength, but I don't.
I'm just me, on this raft, floating along the ocean of life, and this raft is not even my own.
I'm clinging on to a rope of faith behind it, because I have precious cargo that is on it.
I do not know where this raft is going, or how I will get there most days. But all I can hope is that when I hit shore, I have survived.
I may be beaten, broken, and changed, but I will land knowing that the journey was hard, but that I made it.
And when I take in the sight of the beautiful vacant white sanded beach that I finally land upon...and I think I am alone, and that I have finally finished my travels, I will not be surprised when I hear someone yell, "Mmmmmom".
Because that is what I am, and always will be. But I hope that I will know that the job of Mom and the journey of being Mom, has made me who I am.
And although the journey is tough and surprising, I can only cling to the hope that my children will see that the journey of life is absolutely worth it, and hopefully it prepares them for a journey of their own.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
The Spectrum; ASD - the truth
If you had talked to me a year ago, words such as "The Spectrum" or "ASD" would have meant very little to me.
Those letters, "ASD", however insignificant or little they may seem, have the power to turn your world upside down while at the same time turn it back the right side up.
I used to think I was crazy. No, honestly, I did. I always knew my son was "different".
But to be honest, after having 2 colicky boys before him, I welcomed the silence.
I had 4 children when my son entered my life; so life was busy. The fact that he never wanted to look at me, or touch me while I nursed him; the fact that he would fall asleep without cuddles, or rocking; the fact that he showed no desire to be picked up when I would near him were actually welcomed things to me in my already crazy world. He was a "good baby", but as he neared his first bday, the easy going nature started to grow into a boy who craved isolation.
He was a little "slower", in crawling, walking, and speech; but he was #5 in a family of 5 children. I figured his easy going nature, and older siblings left him not needing to advance the way my other children had.
With the growth of my little man came the challenges; slowly at first - he did not want to play with other children, or even his siblings; he was quite content to be on his own. And when he wanted to play, he would just steal a toy and run away.
The challenges became my own; it would annoy me when my son would cringe and cower away from his own grandparents and aunts, when they tried to hug or kiss him. I felt I was always apologizing for him. Apologizing he didn't want kisses, apologizing he was stealing toys, apologizing he was rude and disobedient in the store, apologizing when on my last trip I ever took with him to the grocery store, I had to pick him up and place him crying while in the fetal position in the buggy with groceries stacked around him.
When he was 4, my dear friend broached the subject of "Aspergers" with me over coffee. I had never heard of it, and so turned to our good old faithful friend "Google" after she left. I'm not going to lie; I cried. This was my son, and yet, there were differences in what I was reading.
Kindergarten had a new set of challenges. A boy who only wanted to sit and watch others play, unless he could play with his cousin. A child who would forgo recess to sit and do work one on one with his teacher (bless her heart, because I'm sure she would have rather enjoyed a coffee on her own,lol).
And so after some testing, and talking, we were off to see a paediatrician.
I remember that day clearly a year ago. The day that I was told that my son was on the Spectrum. It turned my world upside down, with questions of what now? Where do I go from here? How do I approach, deal, tell and live with this news? And yet, it turned my world up right. I had a new found relief of finally accepting that he was different for a reason, and realizing I had no need to apologize anymore for who he was.
He's still just my boy,
and as he grows, he and I are learning; and we face new challenges.
I have to figure out ways to convince him he is not dying when he scrapes his knee. The blood curdling screams are sure to make anyone believe he is on his last leg. Or figuring out how to curb his anger. How do I make him go from 0-60 in 2 mins as opposed to 2.2 seconds.
I have to find ways for him to tolerate loud noises and busy places.
But the real battles lie among the every day things;
teaching him to say "hi" to people when they greet him. Teaching him that he can not mimic people or mock them when they ask questions he does not understand. Teaching him to say simple things such as, "I did not hear you", or "I do not understand what you're saying".
Trying to help him see that the world is not such a scary place.
And it's exhausting. I have fought systems, people, and services. I have spent more time talking, researching and teaching. I have spent hours on the phone, and computer.
I have realized that some days, I do not have the patience, the know-how, or the ability to do this. But I have love, and trust, and faith in God, who placed this boy in my life, that I can.
I have come to realize that most people do not understand what it's like to have a child on the Spectrum. They see a healthy, normal boy, and don't realize the inner struggles behind closed doors. But I'm ok with that. I'm ok that some people may never realize or know the truth.
The truth is, that it's a different world. But it's beautiful. It's beautiful because he has taught me more about myself then I have ever taught him. It has given me an opportunity to teach my other children, and it has made me realize that of all things; I am to be humble. Humble in how I look at, judge, and treat others.
And that's really the truth of it all; and for that, I am thankful.
I am so blessed to be able to learn from my little boy.
So take a look around you today, and ask yourself;
"Who's going to be able to teach me?"
And will you let them?
Try being teachable; you may find it's a beautiful thing,
and you may be surprised at what you learn about yourself!
Those letters, "ASD", however insignificant or little they may seem, have the power to turn your world upside down while at the same time turn it back the right side up.
I used to think I was crazy. No, honestly, I did. I always knew my son was "different".
But to be honest, after having 2 colicky boys before him, I welcomed the silence.
I had 4 children when my son entered my life; so life was busy. The fact that he never wanted to look at me, or touch me while I nursed him; the fact that he would fall asleep without cuddles, or rocking; the fact that he showed no desire to be picked up when I would near him were actually welcomed things to me in my already crazy world. He was a "good baby", but as he neared his first bday, the easy going nature started to grow into a boy who craved isolation.
He was a little "slower", in crawling, walking, and speech; but he was #5 in a family of 5 children. I figured his easy going nature, and older siblings left him not needing to advance the way my other children had.
With the growth of my little man came the challenges; slowly at first - he did not want to play with other children, or even his siblings; he was quite content to be on his own. And when he wanted to play, he would just steal a toy and run away.
The challenges became my own; it would annoy me when my son would cringe and cower away from his own grandparents and aunts, when they tried to hug or kiss him. I felt I was always apologizing for him. Apologizing he didn't want kisses, apologizing he was stealing toys, apologizing he was rude and disobedient in the store, apologizing when on my last trip I ever took with him to the grocery store, I had to pick him up and place him crying while in the fetal position in the buggy with groceries stacked around him.
When he was 4, my dear friend broached the subject of "Aspergers" with me over coffee. I had never heard of it, and so turned to our good old faithful friend "Google" after she left. I'm not going to lie; I cried. This was my son, and yet, there were differences in what I was reading.
Kindergarten had a new set of challenges. A boy who only wanted to sit and watch others play, unless he could play with his cousin. A child who would forgo recess to sit and do work one on one with his teacher (bless her heart, because I'm sure she would have rather enjoyed a coffee on her own,lol).
And so after some testing, and talking, we were off to see a paediatrician.
I remember that day clearly a year ago. The day that I was told that my son was on the Spectrum. It turned my world upside down, with questions of what now? Where do I go from here? How do I approach, deal, tell and live with this news? And yet, it turned my world up right. I had a new found relief of finally accepting that he was different for a reason, and realizing I had no need to apologize anymore for who he was.
He's still just my boy,
and as he grows, he and I are learning; and we face new challenges.
I have to figure out ways to convince him he is not dying when he scrapes his knee. The blood curdling screams are sure to make anyone believe he is on his last leg. Or figuring out how to curb his anger. How do I make him go from 0-60 in 2 mins as opposed to 2.2 seconds.
I have to find ways for him to tolerate loud noises and busy places.
But the real battles lie among the every day things;
teaching him to say "hi" to people when they greet him. Teaching him that he can not mimic people or mock them when they ask questions he does not understand. Teaching him to say simple things such as, "I did not hear you", or "I do not understand what you're saying".
Trying to help him see that the world is not such a scary place.
And it's exhausting. I have fought systems, people, and services. I have spent more time talking, researching and teaching. I have spent hours on the phone, and computer.
I have realized that some days, I do not have the patience, the know-how, or the ability to do this. But I have love, and trust, and faith in God, who placed this boy in my life, that I can.
I have come to realize that most people do not understand what it's like to have a child on the Spectrum. They see a healthy, normal boy, and don't realize the inner struggles behind closed doors. But I'm ok with that. I'm ok that some people may never realize or know the truth.
The truth is, that it's a different world. But it's beautiful. It's beautiful because he has taught me more about myself then I have ever taught him. It has given me an opportunity to teach my other children, and it has made me realize that of all things; I am to be humble. Humble in how I look at, judge, and treat others.
And that's really the truth of it all; and for that, I am thankful.
I am so blessed to be able to learn from my little boy.
So take a look around you today, and ask yourself;
"Who's going to be able to teach me?"
And will you let them?
Try being teachable; you may find it's a beautiful thing,
and you may be surprised at what you learn about yourself!
"God found some of the strongest women in the world, and unleashed them to be Autism Moms"
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Scrooge Me
I have decided that it is possible to love the Christmas season, and yet be a scrooge.
And so, enter- me.
Yes, my house is adorned with all the normal things you would see. The lights, the wreaths, the tree, and I believe I may even have a stocking... or 8 hanging around.
And I love the look of the festive season, I do.
I even went to my Mom's the other week to dress up her home. I put up the tree, trimmed it, and stood back to admire my work of 2 hours. Mind you, I did receive a free lunch for my daughter and myself in exchange for all my hard labour; but honest, I would have done it anyway ;)
And please, do not even get me started on the baking, the egg nog, the music, and the time with family and friends. I love it all. I do. But I am a Christmas Scrooge.
This may not sound possible, but it is.
So what exactly is it that makes me a scrooge during this festive season?
The pressure.
I have a massive disdain for the pressure of this time of year. No, it's not a really a disdain, it's a loathing of sorts, it may actually even be a kind of hate.
I was speaking to my sister on the phone the other day, and I was glancing at my calendar.
Let me clarify, that I actually only do this because, to be quite honest, I am stuck there when I pick up the phone.
We no longer own a cordless; and really, most people call us on our cell these days, but there are the few who call my landline.
The few people that actually take the time to punch in those 10 (maybe 11 if they're long distance) numbers include people such as my sister, my Mom, and.. the telemarketers. Oh, and those few that don't have my cell number because I have either not given it to them, or we're just not that close that I feel it necessary that they have it.
I suppose now is the time to apologize to that friend who doesn't have my cell number, and calls me on my landline. If there is such a friend out there; I am sorry.
But I digress.
So, I was standing there looking at the calendar, and what I saw were 27 little boxes in December that were covered in ink. With my quick and brilliant math skills, I figured out that there are only 4 - FOUR - 4 days that were "free".
The events that encompass this time of year are things such as,
Class Skating, Donating blood, Christmas dinners, Christmas concerts, Kids sleep overs with friends, Christmas parties, Christmas Assemblies, Open Houses & Family dinners. Now on top of this, normal life continues on, and so enters Hockey, Volleyball, Parent/teacher interviews, Birthdays and birthday parties, and keeping up with friends. Are you tired yet?
Now, all of these things are great. They're fun, they're what remind us of the fact that the holiday season is actually here.
But I don't like or appreciate the pressure of what is expected of me.
I do not enjoy that some radio stations pressure me to listen to Jingle Bells on December 1st, because they have decided that NOW is the time to be festive.
I love Jingle Bells, and yet am not so convinced that I need to listen to it 24 days before Christmas as opposed to 7.
I appreciate the concerts, the parties, and the get togethers. I do not however, enjoy the pressure of feeling I must go to one party and leave early to go to another, because everyone, and I mean EVERYONE (in my head) is expecting me to be there.
I do not enjoy the feeling that perhaps I have let someone down and so I stretch myself thin. I go where I perhaps do not want to, and give myself to as many functions as possible, when all I really want to do is slap on my yoga pants, and watch netflix.
Oh, and the gifts!! The hideous pressure of gifts.
As a couple, we have decided that we are taking our children to Florida in the March Break of 2016.
And nothing was more liberating than sitting at the supper table one night with six faces around me and saying,
"Kids, you are getting NOTHING for Christmas this year, because we are taking you to Florida."
Now, after the initial tears, teenage jaws dropping and confused, deer-caught-in-the-headlights-look, they were actually ok with it.
Ok, and really, I was kind of lying. I am buying them games for in the car, perhaps one needs a swimsuit, and another flip flops.
But there will be no walking in a store aimlessly trying to spend money because I've spent $100 on my eldest and only $5 on my youngest.
The best part of giving gifts is that no one really expects them. OK, again, a lie. The kids expect them.
But I use to have a list the length of my arm, or maybe my leg, or maybe both put together. It included my parents, his parents, the piano teacher, the teachers, the coach, the mail lady, the bus drivers,etc.
That my dear readers, are a LOT of gifts.
Why is it not sufficient to give a card with a candy cane and say THANK-YOU. Or, as I do quite often, write a poem and give them maybe a little bag with some hot chocolate and marshmallows.
I fear we have become enslaved into thinking that if we want someone to know we love or appreciate them, that we have to buy a gift. And not just any gift, NO. The PERFECT GIFT!
Well, I do not appreciate that pressure.
I would rather buy all 6 of my children a canoe together for the summer than buy 6 shirts, 7 toys, candy, a slinky and maybe that playstation game which doesn't work, because I forgot that I got rid of a perfectly good playstation 3 to upgrade to the 4 because I needed to waste money for Christmas one year.
So where does all this leave me?
As a flamboyant Christmas Scrooge.
I love the season, but I loathe the pressure of trying to "keep up with" the season.
It's supposed to be a time to reflect on Christ's birth and spend time with family, and friends.
So here is my apology to all those I may offend this holiday season;
If I do not make it to your Christmas party, and offer no excuse; know that I am sitting in my PJs all day with my 6 children watching Santa Clause 1,2,&3, or maybe even ELF.
If I do not show up to the concert you wanted me to attend; please know that I love the music you are singing and I hope that it brings you joy to sing it.
If I do not make it to your Open House, Dinner, or Assembly; please know that I either could not make it to everything, or perhaps there just happened to be a date I had with myself, my couch, netflix and a glass of wine.
And if you do not get that top rated A-1 perfect gift from me this year; know that I still love and appreciate all you do, but you may just have to be OK with a thank-you and a hug this year.
I will sing Jingle Bells now because it is 10 days before Christmas, and I may even crank a City Harmonic song.
However if you're driving with me tomorrow and I am harmonizing with Adele and her new hit "Hello"; please do NOT touch my radio.
Because I do not feel the need to be pressured to listen to Christmas music, and you may find yourself pushed out of my truck, and left to be picked up by one of those mini vans with the antlers out their doors and a red nose on their grill.
So exscrooge me and my negativity, but I will not be pressured to be something I am not this holiday season.
Merry Christmas everyone! I do hope that your holiday is filled with happiness, family, friends, memories, and wonderful events; but do it all...with no pressure.
:)
And so, enter- me.
Yes, my house is adorned with all the normal things you would see. The lights, the wreaths, the tree, and I believe I may even have a stocking... or 8 hanging around.
And I love the look of the festive season, I do.
I even went to my Mom's the other week to dress up her home. I put up the tree, trimmed it, and stood back to admire my work of 2 hours. Mind you, I did receive a free lunch for my daughter and myself in exchange for all my hard labour; but honest, I would have done it anyway ;)
And please, do not even get me started on the baking, the egg nog, the music, and the time with family and friends. I love it all. I do. But I am a Christmas Scrooge.
This may not sound possible, but it is.
So what exactly is it that makes me a scrooge during this festive season?
The pressure.
I have a massive disdain for the pressure of this time of year. No, it's not a really a disdain, it's a loathing of sorts, it may actually even be a kind of hate.
I was speaking to my sister on the phone the other day, and I was glancing at my calendar.
Let me clarify, that I actually only do this because, to be quite honest, I am stuck there when I pick up the phone.
We no longer own a cordless; and really, most people call us on our cell these days, but there are the few who call my landline.
The few people that actually take the time to punch in those 10 (maybe 11 if they're long distance) numbers include people such as my sister, my Mom, and.. the telemarketers. Oh, and those few that don't have my cell number because I have either not given it to them, or we're just not that close that I feel it necessary that they have it.
I suppose now is the time to apologize to that friend who doesn't have my cell number, and calls me on my landline. If there is such a friend out there; I am sorry.
But I digress.
So, I was standing there looking at the calendar, and what I saw were 27 little boxes in December that were covered in ink. With my quick and brilliant math skills, I figured out that there are only 4 - FOUR - 4 days that were "free".
The events that encompass this time of year are things such as,
Class Skating, Donating blood, Christmas dinners, Christmas concerts, Kids sleep overs with friends, Christmas parties, Christmas Assemblies, Open Houses & Family dinners. Now on top of this, normal life continues on, and so enters Hockey, Volleyball, Parent/teacher interviews, Birthdays and birthday parties, and keeping up with friends. Are you tired yet?
Now, all of these things are great. They're fun, they're what remind us of the fact that the holiday season is actually here.
But I don't like or appreciate the pressure of what is expected of me.
I do not enjoy that some radio stations pressure me to listen to Jingle Bells on December 1st, because they have decided that NOW is the time to be festive.
I love Jingle Bells, and yet am not so convinced that I need to listen to it 24 days before Christmas as opposed to 7.
I appreciate the concerts, the parties, and the get togethers. I do not however, enjoy the pressure of feeling I must go to one party and leave early to go to another, because everyone, and I mean EVERYONE (in my head) is expecting me to be there.
I do not enjoy the feeling that perhaps I have let someone down and so I stretch myself thin. I go where I perhaps do not want to, and give myself to as many functions as possible, when all I really want to do is slap on my yoga pants, and watch netflix.
Oh, and the gifts!! The hideous pressure of gifts.
As a couple, we have decided that we are taking our children to Florida in the March Break of 2016.
And nothing was more liberating than sitting at the supper table one night with six faces around me and saying,
"Kids, you are getting NOTHING for Christmas this year, because we are taking you to Florida."
Now, after the initial tears, teenage jaws dropping and confused, deer-caught-in-the-headlights-look, they were actually ok with it.
Ok, and really, I was kind of lying. I am buying them games for in the car, perhaps one needs a swimsuit, and another flip flops.
But there will be no walking in a store aimlessly trying to spend money because I've spent $100 on my eldest and only $5 on my youngest.
The best part of giving gifts is that no one really expects them. OK, again, a lie. The kids expect them.
But I use to have a list the length of my arm, or maybe my leg, or maybe both put together. It included my parents, his parents, the piano teacher, the teachers, the coach, the mail lady, the bus drivers,etc.
That my dear readers, are a LOT of gifts.
Why is it not sufficient to give a card with a candy cane and say THANK-YOU. Or, as I do quite often, write a poem and give them maybe a little bag with some hot chocolate and marshmallows.
I fear we have become enslaved into thinking that if we want someone to know we love or appreciate them, that we have to buy a gift. And not just any gift, NO. The PERFECT GIFT!
Well, I do not appreciate that pressure.
I would rather buy all 6 of my children a canoe together for the summer than buy 6 shirts, 7 toys, candy, a slinky and maybe that playstation game which doesn't work, because I forgot that I got rid of a perfectly good playstation 3 to upgrade to the 4 because I needed to waste money for Christmas one year.
So where does all this leave me?
As a flamboyant Christmas Scrooge.
I love the season, but I loathe the pressure of trying to "keep up with" the season.
It's supposed to be a time to reflect on Christ's birth and spend time with family, and friends.
So here is my apology to all those I may offend this holiday season;
If I do not make it to your Christmas party, and offer no excuse; know that I am sitting in my PJs all day with my 6 children watching Santa Clause 1,2,&3, or maybe even ELF.
If I do not show up to the concert you wanted me to attend; please know that I love the music you are singing and I hope that it brings you joy to sing it.
If I do not make it to your Open House, Dinner, or Assembly; please know that I either could not make it to everything, or perhaps there just happened to be a date I had with myself, my couch, netflix and a glass of wine.
And if you do not get that top rated A-1 perfect gift from me this year; know that I still love and appreciate all you do, but you may just have to be OK with a thank-you and a hug this year.
I will sing Jingle Bells now because it is 10 days before Christmas, and I may even crank a City Harmonic song.
However if you're driving with me tomorrow and I am harmonizing with Adele and her new hit "Hello"; please do NOT touch my radio.
Because I do not feel the need to be pressured to listen to Christmas music, and you may find yourself pushed out of my truck, and left to be picked up by one of those mini vans with the antlers out their doors and a red nose on their grill.
So exscrooge me and my negativity, but I will not be pressured to be something I am not this holiday season.
Merry Christmas everyone! I do hope that your holiday is filled with happiness, family, friends, memories, and wonderful events; but do it all...with no pressure.
:)
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Prayers for the Bartels family
Sending prayers and thoughts to the Bartels family who have faced tragedy.
My heart goes out to Pat, Will, and children as well as their extended family.
What a beautiful testimony to the faith of a loving God, who is present in our suffering.
What a blessing to know that our God has a purpose and plan for all threads in His perfect tapestry!
Praise God from whom all blessing flow.
Please continue to pray for Pat, for a full recovery, and for Will to have the strength, the peace and all that he needs to endure this trial.
A Massive Hole
My heart goes out to Pat, Will, and children as well as their extended family.
What a beautiful testimony to the faith of a loving God, who is present in our suffering.
What a blessing to know that our God has a purpose and plan for all threads in His perfect tapestry!
Praise God from whom all blessing flow.
Please continue to pray for Pat, for a full recovery, and for Will to have the strength, the peace and all that he needs to endure this trial.
A Massive Hole
Saturday, March 1, 2014
Gold
I watched a speech competition the other night with gr. 7 and 8 students from all over Ontario.
I was the proud Mom sitting in the second row, feeling ill for my daughter. I'm quite sure although she did not take notice, that many other Moms would sympathize with my stomach being in knots, and my throat being dry, while my palms were sweaty.
In a perfect story for the movies, my daughter would have placed 1st or 2nd and received a trophy, but this isn't the movies...this is life.
I'm not actually sure where she placed, as they only give the top two awards, but her and I know that the nerves got to her. Did I feel bad for her, yes, but more than that...I was so proud.
I wasn't impressed because she made it that far, I wasn't happy that she rose to deliver even though her nerves were getting the better of her, and I wasn't proud of her smile of grace even when she knew after her speech that it wasn't going to be her standing in the end.
The love came at the end of it all, as I watched her interact with her friends. It was in the tears she shed for pure happiness that a good friend who stood beside her,had placed second in the poetry group.
It was in the congratulations she offered to the others who had placed. It was in the hugs she gave to her friends who had come to support her; saying, "it's ok I didn't win".
And on the way home; as I sat quietly in the drivers seat with my sister in law beside me;
and 6 friends/cousins in the back, I had to smile, as they talked about the cool other speeches, the interesting facts they learned, the amazement over the boy who presented the first place speech. They laughed about the choir that was making distracting noises in the next room, they roused each other about their own speeches, and experiences at the school level.
But the most amazement sound to me was the near tear squeals about how happy they were for their friend and class mate who had placed.
And at the end of the night, as I crawled into bed, I smiled.
We raise our children to think of others, do unto others as you would have them do to you, ...Jesus, Others, Yourself...so to share in others happiness even when it is at the sacrifice of your own.
You teach them to be bigger than disappointment, and to keep their chin up...but you never really know if they hear it, or if they practice it unless you are fortunate enough to see them go through it.
And so I am thankful I was able to witness a "failure", and able to see how she dealt with it.
At the end of the day; it is hard to fail, but it is worse to never had tried to succeed. (Theodore Roosevelt)
So although others may not remember her as a winner of a provincial speech competition; in my eyes, she did win.
I was the proud Mom sitting in the second row, feeling ill for my daughter. I'm quite sure although she did not take notice, that many other Moms would sympathize with my stomach being in knots, and my throat being dry, while my palms were sweaty.
In a perfect story for the movies, my daughter would have placed 1st or 2nd and received a trophy, but this isn't the movies...this is life.
I'm not actually sure where she placed, as they only give the top two awards, but her and I know that the nerves got to her. Did I feel bad for her, yes, but more than that...I was so proud.
I wasn't impressed because she made it that far, I wasn't happy that she rose to deliver even though her nerves were getting the better of her, and I wasn't proud of her smile of grace even when she knew after her speech that it wasn't going to be her standing in the end.
The love came at the end of it all, as I watched her interact with her friends. It was in the tears she shed for pure happiness that a good friend who stood beside her,had placed second in the poetry group.
It was in the congratulations she offered to the others who had placed. It was in the hugs she gave to her friends who had come to support her; saying, "it's ok I didn't win".
And on the way home; as I sat quietly in the drivers seat with my sister in law beside me;
and 6 friends/cousins in the back, I had to smile, as they talked about the cool other speeches, the interesting facts they learned, the amazement over the boy who presented the first place speech. They laughed about the choir that was making distracting noises in the next room, they roused each other about their own speeches, and experiences at the school level.
But the most amazement sound to me was the near tear squeals about how happy they were for their friend and class mate who had placed.
And at the end of the night, as I crawled into bed, I smiled.
We raise our children to think of others, do unto others as you would have them do to you, ...Jesus, Others, Yourself...so to share in others happiness even when it is at the sacrifice of your own.
You teach them to be bigger than disappointment, and to keep their chin up...but you never really know if they hear it, or if they practice it unless you are fortunate enough to see them go through it.
And so I am thankful I was able to witness a "failure", and able to see how she dealt with it.
At the end of the day; it is hard to fail, but it is worse to never had tried to succeed. (Theodore Roosevelt)
So although others may not remember her as a winner of a provincial speech competition; in my eyes, she did win.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
SNOW-COOL
Snow-cool = sooo cool, or there's no school, or snow school;
however you want to interpret it; I have decided to interpret it this way;
Snow = no school = so cool!
I love that call that comes at 6:00 a.m.
You know the one? You wonder why that ringing is coming from your ear, and then you clue in that it's the phone. You can barely form words, or say hello, but you already have a smile because you know!
I love snow days!
Maybe better is that I have DECIDED to LOVE snow days. There's just something about it.
In fact, I love it when I see words like this;
Warnings, and Watches are awesome...literally. It's amazing to watch how the one thing we cannot control at all, can control us so well.
I know so many of you are probably rolling your eyes, or thinking I'm unreal.
But if there's one thing I've learned in life it's to either appreciate what has been put in front of you, or walk around with a scowl and be bitter.
I can't help but think of the night that I made bok choy for my family as the vegetable side.
They all raised their eyebrows, and sniff a little, asking what is it, and more importantly for their palates; what's IN it. But you know what? They have also learned to take what's in front of them and appreciate it for what it is...even if it smells like socks and looks weird.
They all tried that bok choy and you know what?! Ok, only one liked it. But my oldest actually preferred it over broccoli!! YAY!, and all because they know that they just have to take a little step and think outside the box.
So I have chosen to do that with my snow days.
They could mope around the house, or I could help them take a step and let them realize that it's time to appreciate the cold, blowing white stuff.
So we dared make the little trek to a local store and got some necessities; at the same time I let them pick out something they wanted for lunch.
My cart quickly filled up with a chicken pot pie, pizza, a single portion of lasagna, mr. noodles, and the obvious favourite of a 1 and 4 year old; mac and cheese.
Then I decided to show them what a donut is in the parking lot! Ok, it was more like half or 3/4 a donut because even at 35 I'm a little skidish.
Then we hopped over to the library where they grabbed a book and a movie.
And you know what; it's not maybe the nicest...but we're gonna bundle up and go out to shovel the rink, and maybe slide around on the ice hiding under the snow. It might not be a long excursion, but when they come back in; it'll be hot chocolate, and popcorn!
I'm thankful the phone rang at 6 a.m. To me it means a slower pace, some adventure and good fun!
So take a snow day and think outside the box!!
Take what's placed in front of you and make it something...
Now if you excuse me; I've got some snow to tend to!! :)
however you want to interpret it; I have decided to interpret it this way;
Snow = no school = so cool!
I love that call that comes at 6:00 a.m.
You know the one? You wonder why that ringing is coming from your ear, and then you clue in that it's the phone. You can barely form words, or say hello, but you already have a smile because you know!
I love snow days!
Maybe better is that I have DECIDED to LOVE snow days. There's just something about it.
In fact, I love it when I see words like this;
Warnings, and Watches are awesome...literally. It's amazing to watch how the one thing we cannot control at all, can control us so well.
I know so many of you are probably rolling your eyes, or thinking I'm unreal.
But if there's one thing I've learned in life it's to either appreciate what has been put in front of you, or walk around with a scowl and be bitter.
I can't help but think of the night that I made bok choy for my family as the vegetable side.
They all raised their eyebrows, and sniff a little, asking what is it, and more importantly for their palates; what's IN it. But you know what? They have also learned to take what's in front of them and appreciate it for what it is...even if it smells like socks and looks weird.
They all tried that bok choy and you know what?! Ok, only one liked it. But my oldest actually preferred it over broccoli!! YAY!, and all because they know that they just have to take a little step and think outside the box.
So I have chosen to do that with my snow days.
They could mope around the house, or I could help them take a step and let them realize that it's time to appreciate the cold, blowing white stuff.
So we dared make the little trek to a local store and got some necessities; at the same time I let them pick out something they wanted for lunch.
My cart quickly filled up with a chicken pot pie, pizza, a single portion of lasagna, mr. noodles, and the obvious favourite of a 1 and 4 year old; mac and cheese.
Then I decided to show them what a donut is in the parking lot! Ok, it was more like half or 3/4 a donut because even at 35 I'm a little skidish.
Then we hopped over to the library where they grabbed a book and a movie.
And you know what; it's not maybe the nicest...but we're gonna bundle up and go out to shovel the rink, and maybe slide around on the ice hiding under the snow. It might not be a long excursion, but when they come back in; it'll be hot chocolate, and popcorn!
I'm thankful the phone rang at 6 a.m. To me it means a slower pace, some adventure and good fun!
So take a snow day and think outside the box!!
Take what's placed in front of you and make it something...
Now if you excuse me; I've got some snow to tend to!! :)
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