Ooohhh the blustery-ness of it all. The day, my emotions, the coming of Spring. The recognizing and placing of boundaries always a big deal, at the beginning when it is new to you and you are still getting sucked in to someone else's ways and emotions but keep your eyes on the horizon knowing that one day it will not be so dramatic to stand in one's truth. You will be softer and less flinty-eyed about it. One hopes. But for now, in the beginning it's all Al Pacino-You Lookin At Me?-and the bravado of the not-so-sure that has to carry me as I stand at the gates of what is okay and what is not. And then, in secret, pride and the peace of knowing my own dignity and the horizon gets closer.

the trinity

We live here in what R calls the feminine trinity. I dig that he attaches some sort of divinity to the female presence/dominance in our home. He is learning to cope with the estrogen.

The little curly girl is obsessed with death in the way that little ones are (that is the matter-of-fact-shit-happens kind of way) and has decided that her impending marriage to her boyfriend, J, will take place in a cemetary "because they are really beautiful and lovely".

After being in bed for awhile and unable to get to sleep, the elder marched into the bathroom claimed some space beside R who was shaving, dropped her robe and stood in all of her glorious puberty in front of the mirror applying body lotion. He carried on and she chatted away happily. She would never do that in front of her father. He would pass out if she did. R kept cool. (I was there too-having a pee).

He has learned how to play in feminine ways, is learning to communicate in ways that females respond well to (a very important life lesson I'll say), doesn't mind being dressed by females, knows how to compliment and when to keep quiet, and stays low when the drama overloads. I think he fells privileged to have this inside track into the lives of girls and women-perhaps a secret wish of many boys and men-and is a fascinated onlooker. A proud papa of girls!

the highway

Oh here I am back after a sweet march break at the cottage spent enjoying the sun and listening to baby beavers mewing away in their den which was built courtesy of all the trees (which used to be) fronting the property. I've never been there at this time of year, this time of awakening and melting. Everything was alive and the air had that sweet smell of spring arrived. Our main activity was crushing the soft ice with discarded sticks and watching it float away with the current, searching the skies for the (2) bald eagles that have taken up residence on a nearby island, punctuated with wine and coffee and books and sketching and long walks through the woods.

I have noticed that I fit into an environment of solitude and quiet very easily and when it comes time to get back to civilization I get ansty. Being around people again is something I have to ease myself into. It happens everytime I am at the cottage. I get used to the landscape, the rhythm and it feels like a natural landscape and rhythm and my system goes into shock when I have to be around people again, when I have to look at buildings and hear city noises again. I have to do it in increments. I enjoy the sights and opportunities but it only takes a short time before I am turning my gaze back to the quiet and peaceful place and measuring time until I return to it. The highway is a terrible answer to a week away.

That's why I like where I live. I can gaze out my window and see nothing but the trees, hear nothing but the birds. There is a trade off but I feel calm here in the centre of myself, I can think here and hear the answers. It's enough stimulation for me a lot of the time. I may actually be becoming some sort of hermit cat lady of Oakville. I may actually be ok with that. I'll let my hair grow grey and wild and scare kids as they pass by the window.

rantings and ramblings

Okay, first of all, this almost-a-cold that has been lurking around in my head for a week needs to just make a decision about what it wants to do and do it. Then bugger off. My four year old told one of our cats to bugger off this morning so I can see that my hard work in teaching her is paying off. The older one got a pretty crappy (for her) report card so I am also feeling pretty chuffed that I was right all along and her teachers have started to call her lack of work and "I don't care" attitude with some bad grades. Now she is scared she will not be invited back to her program. Is it wrong to delight in someone else's defeat-especially your own child's?? It's just that I think sometimes you need them to learn the lesson the hard way. Then, my imagined lovely coffee meeting with my man turned into me wandering the streets of his route trying to find him, being late for an appointment because of said wanderings, then spending an hour in desperate and failing attempt at conversation only to be dumped with my little one for the evening becasue of said man's pissy mood. I did get to eat a big brownie that I made and read my book so all in all it wasn't a bad evening.

Christine's relationship rescue

I know some people who have reached the tipping point in their 20 plus year union and have made the decision to "shake things up a bit". I don't know if it will work or backfire but it makes me nervous. I guess I am old fashioned and don't really care for complicating my life-maybe that's exactly what I neeed though, a more complicated life. I get anxious whenever the status quo is threatened in my life and resist change (all the while craving it-go figure). Maybe it's the suspicion that if I've got troubles I know that there ain't a soul out there who can attend to them but me and I think that this couple is going about it ass backwards and will end up making mistakes from which they cannot recover. I am no relatioinship expert but the people who stay happily together really just seem to like each other alot and care for the other's wellness and opinion. It seems simple enough to me if you can get that simplicity to stick in your head when you start to try to complicate things as we all tend to do in this culutre. Is it possible to still like someone after 20 years of crap?

they too will turn

I honestly do not know how things go from being happy and pleasant and ohh this is going to be a really good evening to I hate you get out of my freaking life forever!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Honestly, I swear to God I would sometimes like to put the event in slow motion and replay it so that I can see the moment, and then work hard to prevent it. Maybe when I am telling her for the fourth time that when she is using the computer for homework NOT chatting online with GOd fucking knows who I should just lower my voice, place a gentle hand on her shoulder and lovingly sing my dear sweetie pie, I realize how important your friends are and I realize it's been a whole hour since you've talked to them, but right now is homework time and when your done with your homework, you may chat away to your hearts content as long as your work is done. and the birds will fly around my shoulders and the deer and bunnies will gather around.
Instead, having repeated myself 4 times and getting no response-just chat away little miss sunshine-I lose my patience at having been ignored and start to yell TURN THAT FUCKING COMPUTER OFF NOW OR I WILL UNPLUG IT!!!!! and there goes the evening and I am the bad evil witch of the universe who's only goal and pleasure is creating misery and enforcing evil against my daughter. Thank God the little one still thinks I am the most wonderful mommy in the whole world. Be warned people with cute little ones-one day they will turn...

desperation

I need a job and I need one NOW

alive!

Could that possibly be Spring trying to fight it's way out from behind winter's hairy back? Why is it that even just the promise of spring coming is often enough to perk up one's dreary mood? Even I, the queen of rainy days, feel more optimistic when the weather is nice. I am determined today to do something somewhat productive with my day-something that takes me further into my life, into a better life. Today cannot be just about the day-to-day chores of keeping it all running smoothly. Today must be a day of jogging and yoga and eating well and then...what? I don't even have a clue what I should be doing to move into that better place. Somehow just sitting and enjoying the warm sun on my face-although highly desirable-isn't going to satisfy that craving for something Bigger. Something that will bring me a nice happy sleep tonight, a hopeful sleep.

Last night we finally got around to watching The Diving Bell and the Butterfly which is a lovely and sad and sensous film that ought to leave everyone who watches it with a renewed sense of joy for life and all of its pleasures. It made me want to feast and fuck and run and touch everything and feel the warmth of my children and man's perfect bodies and luxuriate in the earth. Today must surely be feast day!

my bad

I am the kind of parent who thinks it's perfectly acceptable to plop my kid in front of the tv to watch Cinderella part 2 while I escape into the computer or do various inane domestic duties. I don't mind arts and crafts but I don't like to do them-just to watch my kids do it while I take a mental break.
I am also the kind of parent who hounds my older one to pick up after herself a lot. She is the kind of kid who enjoys tuning me out so we replay things over and over quite a bit. I think there must be a degree of functionality to it all. I nag, she ignores, eventually it gets done.
I am the kind of wife who upon hearing my man becoming increasingly frustrated with his increasing lateness in the morning just sits back on the couch and amuses myself with his frustration rather than trying to help. And he never actually asks me to help. After all, I've done my duties and I have about 15 minutes in between kids, it's my ME time in the a.m. so why should I not amuse myself with his hilarious routine? Because I am-as he thinks-evil.
Sometimes I turn the heat up too high because I hate to feel cold (but not today as I was accused of by the energy police who live with me). Sometimes I throw something out rather than try to fight with a stain. Sometimes I don't recycle every single thing I am supposed to. I flush cat shit down the toilet (which apparently is bad although I am not sure why). I eat way too many cookies and sometimes I let my man deal with the little one if she wakes up in the middle of the night, despite his exhaustion, just becasue i am too lazy to do it myself.

I don't think my crimes are all that bad, but there are certain people I live with who would disagree. Let them eat cake.

life and death

When I read other blogs I sometimes get the impression that my life is very small-too small for my liking. Other people blog about art and politics and sexuality and peace and God and all kinds of shit, but me? i blog about my boring little life in the suburbs and how boring it is. I am concerned that the flowers on the dining room table are wilting and need to be thrown out, or that my kid left her stuff splashed all over the kitchen table, or that my man is on a mission to terrify my cats into submission. I actually watched the Bachelor for the last two weeks-including last night's ratings grab extravaganza-that's how dull it is. I'm watching the fucking Bachelor.

But this is my life now and I must own that. Life is small sometimes and I think that's ok. I am glad I am not one of those people who are running around trying to accomplish forty things every day and then collapsing into bed at night too exhausted to even think. I am going to a funeral today for my grandmother's sister-in-law who passed away the other day leaving my grandmother as the last of her peer group. She was a very lovely woman, the kind who held your hand when she talked to you and actually listened to the answers you gave when she asked you how you were. She laughed a lot and had a twinkle in her eye and was always very kind to me when I was a kid. My grandmother turned 93 on Sunday and I baked her oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies and made some chili for her gift (2 of her favourites). Her eyesight is poor so we all signed her card with a black marker in very big letters and she said that ours was the only one she could read and I felt happy that my kids had the opportunity to hear that-the special little consideration and how important it is. Boring? perhaps. Small? probably. Fantastic? absolutely.

a proud mother brags

First of all, not only did I dump the therapist but I managed to turn it into a routine that got me a few laughs. Turns out she was right-I feel better already.

My big girl who is a fencer was in her first tournament on Saturday and we all turned out en masse to watch her and cheer. She did very well in her group and left the building tired and sore and happy. But what I liked the most was how bloody proud and pleased I was watching her play-because for her that's exactly what it was-at something she liked and was good at. I learned a lot about her that I already knew but had forgotten. She was the one who laughed and talked with everybody and she kept smiling even when she got "obliterated" (her words). She enjoyed the competition and was thrilled when she won but not to the point of bragging and kept focused even when she was very sore from four hours of competing or fighting a competitor she knew she had no chance of beating. Her coaches commented to me on how cool she was and how good she could become. And she did it with style. That's my girl-I just love her so much. I love bragging about her.

ps. the stripey socks are not obligatory although they do make it easier to spot her in the sea of white.