I think we've come to the end of the well wishing neighbors who welcome you into their neighborhood. I assume that the rest don't care that we're here or were not "welcomed in" when they arrived.
Our first contact on the street was a nice senior resident who used to be the shop teacher up at the school but is now retired. His name is Tim. He was a man who you could tell had been around loud machinery for a long time. When I said hello and introduced myself he leaned in to hear, and I then upped my volume.
Him and his wife are ajacent to us on the street. He informed me of some history of our home. That the pricipal of the school (olden days) used to live here and offered a welcome to his home where he lived with his wife.
Our next guests were our next door neighbours. They own the other part of the lot and home that used to be together at one time and was seperated in 1876. They were about middle age or so and very warm. It helped that they came bearing gifts of cookies. How could you not like people bringing homemade cookies!
They informed us they had a shikzu and that the tree in the back was both of ours. Very friendly.
They also informed us of a strange old lady across the street who was often very nosy and may even venture into your backyard. I assumed they weren't quite serious about that last part but maybe had had an incident with her at some time on that topic.
Lastly. The strange old lady from across the street dropped in. Immedietly I knew they were not joking about her nosyness because she stepped her way into the door by being a close talker and then asking if she could just come in a moment, while stepping in the front door.
She proceeded to say her name (which I can't remember) because she was also busy rubber necking around the corners of our home where she could see from our front door. It was amazing that she didn't find this rude to do at all.
In the end after a minute or two I excused her out the door again with the reason that my son was napping and it sounded like he was up. That I needed to tend to him. Perhaps another time we could meet and say hello.
"sure" she said, and went on her way.
As I sat tonight in my reading chair at the end of the hall I looked out the window at all the homes. I'm not used to living so close to others. I forgot what it was like to see other peoples lives as they see yours day in and day out. From front porch to front porch. Back yard to back yard. All connected. All different types of people.
'It is through accepting other people in our own countries that we shall come to respect our neighbors and be respected in our turn. " Tahar Ben Jelloun
Our new home in town. We have lived in the country for over 5 years now, long even. But now have taken up residence here. This home and the neighbours used to be connected and were seperated back in 1876, pulled off their foundation and moved back from the road. Just a little history for you :)
still has the old switches (but new wiring thankfully:) )
A little messy still but I'm slowly getting through the boxes. This is our dinning/living/sitting room. AKA: our food and conversation room.
Got the tree up. Yay!
yeah, this candle chandalier was in the deal.
again...ready for Christmas. I have the plaid, Caleb has bob the builder and Tim has the tacky red and green thing.
the whole house has cool fixtures.
again messy. But if I wait till its clean it will be months till I post pics. :) I'm really doing this for your benefit more than mine. lol
the other side of the kitchen.
our backyard. Yep, i have laundry on the line. Our dryer isn't vented yet.
our sweet sweet bathroom!
lovin the tub and the shower ain't too bad either
This is the upcoming baby's room. Its messy cause its full of all that baby stuff! But lots of storage once I get to sorting it all.
my sitting reading place at the end of the upstairs hall. Also a good place to wait to see if Caleb is down for his nap or not.
I love mornings like this. Its the start to a great day. surrounded by his stuffed toys, dog and giraffe (we should really name them. I think they may be with us for a while).
He watches his cartoons and has his milk.
I get some clothes on him, cover him all back up and he veg'es.
Ah relaxed. My kind of morning. He even let me sleep in till 8:30am. Sweet!
Stuck indoors I cozy up with my hot chocolate and cabin fevered child. He is appeased with clemintine slices and I'll feed him as many as he wants. His snotty nose is screaming...Vitamin C!!!
Veggie Tales playes...and playes..and playes..and I think about all the videos I'm going to get him for Christmas that are not Veggie tales.
I bring my ball of tender joy outside to enjoy the winter day. He cries. I give him a moment and start to shovel off the walkway. He falls and cries some more because he is like a blue and red marshmellow man in his snowsuit and can't get up. I pick him up.
For a moment he seems to enjoy the fresh air and travels away from the door as a rugged adventureist and I can see my eagerness in him to venture across the land. Then he falls face first in the snow. As I pick him up I can again see myself in him. I see me as a small child, marshmellowed in clothing to the point I can't even brush off the cold slush now melting my face. Crying.
Poor boy. Inside we go.
The next day comes...today. Snow again .. acting like snow...falling.
We venture out to the grocery store for weekly sales. I never had such a good boy at the store. So happy he was just to be out and about. He held my hand as we walked along and didn't cry once. Who knew that cabin fever to a child could have such great result when we finally get out.
As I sat at the library watching my boy play around I sat beside two women who I had seen in their before. Also across the room I was aware that children from the home my husband and I just bought were playing. They, nor their nanny, knew that I was their home buyer. The women beside me talked about the children across the room, their clothes ect... (cute kids)...and then it came how they were moving soon. Woman 1: Yeah their moving Dec. 17th Woman 2: Where to? Woman1: Over Kincardine way. Their house is all new and ready to be moved into.
Woman2: Really.....do you know who is moving in there? Woman1: Well I do know that is supposidly somebody who has a 15month old and is due in February with her second. Woman2: *chuckles* well she'll certinley have her hands full! Woman1: oh yeah.
Then they looked over at me and I smiled at them and continued looking around like I was not interested in their conversation. A few minutes later woman 2 says to me: "so how old is your little one there?" me: 16 months woman2: oh yeah....
Some more time passes....not sure if she made the connection.
woman 2: so when are you due me: february. Inside I laughed
I had the priviladge of listening to 3 speakers in London the other day. One was the 3 time Olympic Gold Medallist (Canada Women's Hockey Captain), Hayley Wickenheiser.
Best of Olympics - Day 14 (taken from www.zimbio.com)
Also Darci Lang who is an award winning entrepreneur and motivational speaker.
And Finally we heard Robert Herjavec, who is an Investor and part of CBC's Dragon's Den.
All great speakers with stories of their lives and how they came into success of either money or championship. They all spoke favourably of how they were just normal people who have families.
However, on the inside I was torn between what was taught. "be positive, work hard, get up earlier,strive, drive yourself."
Somehow none of this is plastered to my inside wall of goals in life. Not that its not important not to be lazy or work hard or not sleep in or have goals. That's not what I'm talking about. However, for example, the quote at the end of the description of Robert's page is "...Robert's presentation will inspire you and prove that with perseverance, determination and hard work, anything can be accomplished."
That's nice I'm sure. But how many times do they tell people on Dragon's Den. ' Hey, what your doing will never sell and your better off to cut your losses and move on'.
Over all I really enjoyed Robert's talk the most. He was very positive and almost like a kid in a grown man's body. He really didn't match the money he had made by his story.
Darci was also very down to earth. Great speaker. Still had some of that motivational pizas that I tend to veer away from. Nevertheless she put points forward about how making all that money doesn't account for much if you don't put your family first in your life. Who are you working for if not to spend more time with the ones you love.
And finally, Hayley, who I least related to. Her goals were high and sharp. They left no room for family or ties. She commented on being just a normal person doing her own laundry after the olympics. But a very lonely story to reach the top.
Who are we though at the end of the day? Does money give us "worth". God says we should measure a man's worth by his relationships and how he treats others. How he serves God. Not by his net worth or what he has aquired.
Money can not bring you happiness but it does make misery much more comfortable.
Love, joy, peace,patience,thankfulness, and self control all come from God. And you don't have enough money to buy them. So He gives it freely to those who will follow Him.
There are some things in life that you ARE. and then there are some things that you DO. For example. I am a writer and a talker. Anyone who knows me knows I am a talker. I think its genetic.
After being married to my husband for 3 years I am convinced that I am a writer, because unlike my male counterpart, I love to write. You don't even have to make me do it. I have a journal at my beside to write down all the boring stuff that people wouldn't want to hear me talk about, which by the way is my other talent.
However, there are things which I DO. I do photography for instance. I have to try really hard to do photography, take classes, learn, study, make mistakes and so on. But I enjoy doing it and will continue to do what is not my first natural instinct of having a mechanical mirror plastered to my face, looking at people like specimens under my scope.
So should I only do what I am. I think not. I am personally horrible at high jump. Even in school when I was in shape and all I couldn't get over a meter when people were watching. And I just got over a meter when they all walked away in bordom of the situation. But I glowed with achievement whenever I got a tiny bit higher.
I would never reach any major heights or medals in high jump, but I liked it. It was fun!
So the only problem with what I DO is that you can be a writer and talker and still have nothing substantial to add to the world. What am I to talk about? or write about for that matter? If I had your undivided attention...what would I say?
While I was at a cookie exchange there was a man working hard at our house to pack and get ready for moving day. The other man was having "guy time" with grandpa.
Its that time of year again for the annual cookie exchange. When I first joined this family a few years ago I was invited out to exchange cookies, which I later found out was also a nice coffee time with the ladies. Time to catch up.
My second year I never made it out because I procrastinated and then ran out of water at our home...or was it electricity?...either way I had a pile of dishes and no cookies. So i skipped the event.
I didn't figure it was a very big deal. Who cares about a cookie klutch, right. But then year after year I was the first to ask...hey when is that exchange coming up? Now with my son I really look forward to it because it means a "mom break" as well.
This year I made my usual haystacks. I consider these in a catagory along with chocolate chip or other simple cookies of like kind. Usually everyone brings one of these. And then I made peanut butter balls covered with chocolate. A variation of a peanut butter cup! Sweetness! My favourite! This I put into a category of a secondary level of difficulty. Every once in a while one of the ladies will go all out and make a really challenging project. For instance one year my motherinlaw made cookies that looked like little piggy's. Like a creative artistry.
I didn't have a family that participated in annual events growing up. Half of me is convinced its the dorkiest thing since "Leave it to Beaver" and the other half of me loves being the dork that looks forward to it each year.
Cookie making time is also a good time to extra condition your hair. Lots of waiting time. I know. Silly :0)
We splurged and bought pogo's. A treat in our home. After a splash of grease on my finger and Tim playing the imaginary drums with two pogos behind me (my hero), I quickly pushed him to the side to get to the sink. He takes over and we head to the comp. to watch a video. On return this is what we found. The odd part is that it still tasted almost the same, even this black!
I'm thinking of changing midwives and I'm 7 1/2 month along. Why you may ask. Well, honestly I'm just not comfortable with the one I have. Oh she's nice enough and competent. However, ever since I've walked into her office I've been bombarded with books about 'the power of woman' and how the power we have inside ourselves and how circumcision is cruel and brutal ect... Even my husband isn't a real fan of this one.
When he asked me months earlier if I was okay with this midwife to bring us through labor at home I said "sure of course!". Because truth be told she is quite capable and knowledgeable on the subject of delivering babies.
What bothers me is that I don't want to be in the middle of labor telling a woman that I don't agree with her spiritual point of view that "all the power is within us", or "we heal ourselves". Its a load of crap if you ask me! I'm more along the lines of "greater is He who is in me than He who is in the world" or "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me". Reference, the bible.
We differ on hypnotherapy, I don't agree with it.
She's kept the booklet I'm suppose to bring home with all the medical stuff in it.
When I brought my son in who is a toddler, she didn't even regard him and then commented that girls are not nearly as loud as boys.
Overall she just kinda seems like a feminist. And I, not so much.
So!at 7 1/2 months pregnant I've decided to change midwives. I may explain to this midwife why I am moving along to a different midwife. I may be a coward and not. Underneath I wonder if I explained this all lets say , in a letter, would it make a difference. Probably not. But then again, feedback in nice to get, even if its not great feedback. I'd have to be gentle on it I suppose.
Here is to hoping I find a new midwife in time. Looking to do a home birth.
We bought our first house. I'm 30 now and I thought I'd be 40 and single by the time I ever got around to wanting to buy a house. At least now maybe I can retire somewhere.
The romantics of buying a house died off about the time we finished looking through the home and started into the process. Nothing says 'kill the mood' like the words 'sign here on the dotted line.' Except for of course unless you are getting married and diving into the perpetual fountain of love that will last a lifetime...hopefully. Other than that, signing papers usually means more work. Hmm, i guess it means that with marriage too. :)
In any case, we finally finalized the deal today and my husband looked more happy than ON his wedding day! little has he realized was that I am cheaper than a house.
The other night I finally let my hubby know that the way he flirts with me isn't my style anymore. Sure when we were dating I loved it when he looked at me like I was the hottest thing on the market. Like those chicks in coyote ugly had nothing on me. However, as I become more and more pregnant sized, there is something that says, hey the bar scene look and the voluptuous woman in front of you are two different things.
"how then?..."he asks, do you want me to flirt with you?
And you know, I have no idea.
I can picture what I think is sexy but how do you tell your husband what is sexy and not hurt his feelings? Maybe I should write a blog about it and then he'd read it. That may work.
You know who is sexy in his flirtation. Harrison Ford in the Indiana Jones movies. So subtle and not abrupt. A hard to get kind of thing going on.
I wonder if I could get Tim to be quiet and mysterous and carry a whip?
Or how about ...hmm well i guess that 's all i have in mind at the moment.
So note to Tim. Looking for you to be mature and mysterious and hard to get and then to add some gray to your hair, a whip to your hip and a little danger like boulders and arrows once in a while. That is all.
Its 5am and I'm up. My son has a fever. Either flu season or the mouth full of chompers he's got coming in. Not sure which or if both.
Its probably true that mom's loose half their sleep as a result of having kids. In the beginning I hated when Caleb would wake me up. I am not a person to be woken in the morning. So to suddenly have this mini adult in our home waking us at all hours was torment for me...and for him too I'm sure.
Does anything prepare you for momhood? Is there a manual which will blast away any of those preexpectant ideas? Having a baby is like the intense version of getting married. Once the first day is over and the honeymoon of a couple sleepless nights passes, you begin to realize that this is for always. This person isn't going anywhere. And the neighbours might think bad of you if you give it away to a passing traveller.
But there is something about it I can't describe. I now love him enough to be up at 5am, checking his temperature because his health is more important than my sleep.
My husband and I have a totally different opinions about personal exposure on blogging. Mostly his view is "don't write about me". Thankfully, this is my own hilarious but embarrassing moment. But what is an embarrassing moment if you can't share it with the entire world?
Last night at 3:30am my son woke up. He's teething a lot and we just moved him to a toddler bed. I found him on the floor beside the bed. Must have fell out. I quickly picked him, got his sippy of water and tried to sooth him by rocking him in the rocking chair.
(Now if you don't know I'm around 7months pregnant which is really important to this story!)
At this time I noticed that I had to go to the bathroom. This is pretty common on prego women in the night; and when you have to go you have to go. It is like you had to go for hours and the driver of the car just passed 3 rest stops on your vacation trip.
Like a flood gate is on the verge of bursting and only a little stick man in holding up the blockage. It is a desperate time when a pregnant woman has to pee. And believe me, how much I love my hubby I have nearly thrown him out of the way if he stands between me and the bathroom at such a moment.
So there I was. 3:30am, sleepy, crying/sniffaly baby/toddler in my arms, rocking like a great ship at sea on that rocking chair just trying to move enough so the urge would pass. But there was no luck. And my toddler wasn't about to sleep with the rave rocking going on.
I thought about just putting him to bed quick and running downstairs but I knew he'd cry. I thought, "fine, I'll take him with me!" but as I looked over my shoulder at the door I noticed the baby gate was up. Groan. Frankly by this point there was no way I could ever lift my leg to get over that gate. There would be the puddle of the century at his door.
I scratched franticlly for ideas as I thought I may be soon washing the rocking chair sitting pillow in the morning.
And then!
As if a light from heaven shone down to save me from the impending call of nature! There it was! A Royal Pottie!
Beaming through the darkness like a lighthouse on the shore of a raging sea. I was saved! sigh
I don't think I need to include too much detail here as many of you could imagine what happend from here on out.
What I will tell you is that there was no greater fear in me (and laughter) at that moment than the thought that Tim might wake up, hear the "royal tune" that that blessed pottie makes and come down the hall to a sight I don't think I would ever live down.
My husband and I were sitting at the kitchen table recently over lunch when the topic of "can a person still buy a film camera?" came up.
" Sure on kijiji, I think"
"no I mean new" he said.
"oh, no I don't think so."
The converstation continues onto prices of digital cameras and why are we still refering to them as digital if we can't buy film cameras anymore.
"good point. ... I don't know. Some photographers only shoot with film though even still. The quality is unmatched almost I'd say. But you can't see you picture when you take it."
"why haven't the inventers came up with a way to do that." he asked.
"I don't know. Probably because you'd need to pass light through the film to see it and....."
"yeah but we have people who can make a big machine that will milk a cow entirely roboticlly and dip the teets and take its tempature...and you're telling me they can't make a camera that can read both film and digital.?"
"I don't know...Maybe the cow people should build cameras..."
After great thought and testing....or something like that. I've decided to put potty training aside because I agree with the experts that my little guy is not ready for potty training.
I came to this conclusion after great observance, and perhaps some added things to stress us out like a cold,teething, prego hormones and a smoker quiting smoking (husband).
There is likely no good time to start potty training but he is missing some important abilities like saying poo or pee or ....hey lady, i want to use the singing toilet!
In retrospect, I didn't mind trying. I learned lots and I think C didn't mind the nudy time.
So we didn't get in any nudy time for Mr. C today. I tried to get to him this morning before he was awake but trying to bustle a sippy cup of milk and a potty up the stairs and over a barrier is not my most graceful accomplishment.
We have been able to stick to the cloth diapers and he has been showing signs of crying more when he is damp or messed. Good to see that .
But more or less it was a pretty uneventful day in the potty department. I'm almost to the point where I thought of sitting on that potty myself to make it sing! Then he'd want to try it. Sure would! He wants all my cool stuff...like my cell phone, the food off my plate, my endless roll of toilet paper.
Again made it a few hours with a lot less puddles around the house. I was amused when the diaper came off, how facinated my son was with his plumbing. Seriously, you'd think he had bells on his feet because his head was always down walking around.
No success in getting him to pee in the potty. I think if I get up before him I may have some success in that area (since he peed that way before in his old potty).
Nevertheless, he seemed to enjoy the nudy time running around and it was probably great for his skin.
My son is 15 months old. A bit early for potty training but I've decided to give it a go.
Why? you may ask. Why try so early? The average according to the doctor is girls potty train at 1 1/2 - 2 years and boys train at 2-2 1/2 years on average.
However I get so sick of hearing my mothers generation with their...my child was potty trained by the time they could walk .. stories. It really gets under my skin. However, in many cases I think kids may have been left to long to be potty trained and could have been done much earlier.
So who is right?
There is this thing called "conditioning". If you've ever been in a classroom and the teacher turns off the lights and all the kids go silent, you can tell right then that they have been "conditioned" to be silent when the lights are off.
There is a man named Pavlov who had a dog who conditioned his dog to drool whenever he rang a bell. First he fed the dog. Then the next day he fed it and rang a bell just before he fed the dog (while it drooled for its food). Then he rang the bell while holding the food dish which made the dog drool. And lastly he just rang the bell and the dog would drool.
Many of us are conditioned to various things throughout our day.
So under this respect we condition our children to go to the potty. They sense their body's reaction to a bodily function. We set them on a potty. We do this over and over again and sooner or later they go to the potty when they feel that reaction.
Is my child of age. ?
I think so personally. I recently noticed with the change to a toddler bed that he's been conditioned to stay in bed until I come get him. This is still in testing as its a new thing. But he is able to be conditioned.
So the experiment starts....
Day one. He pee'd every 5 minutes. Totally facinated by the fact that he was peeing and often squatted for the momentous occasion.
I on the other hand didn't know he could pee that much. Threw out the "peeing scheduel" and watched for signs of peeing upcoming. At one point I even grabbed a kitchen pot to catch it because I wasn't quick enough to get him on the potty.
Another problem I've noticed is his feet don't totally touch the floor when he's on the potty.Only his tip toes. So it makes it uncomfortable for him.
I have him in cloth diapers to aid in him realizing when he's wet and help me too.
So far. 3 hours and I'm pooped with having a naked baby running around and put on the cloth diaper again. Several floor waterings later.
I'll try to update this daily or by-daily as the saga develops or until I give up.
The Mall! My husband and I had our romantic weekend away at Morning Glory bed and breakfast near Cambridge. Awesome place. While there we went to the movie theater that was in the mall.
In a stixs kinda way I found myself gasping as I went into "the mall". All the stores and all in one place. Ha, like I've never been there before. But lets just say its been a long while since I've perused "the mall".
So we went and got our tickets to the movie "Red" (very funny by the way) and decided to mosie around and take a gander at it all. There was bath and perfume, bags,clothes,food,an ice rink (very cool) and at last...the kids stores.
The cool thing of having a kid is it allows you into places like this. Places that even if you don't have him with you you can say things like "oh our son would like this". Or at this stage I look the part with my prego belly out front.
Otherwise your just some creepy person in a kids store.
There was Children's Place, that I've never been in but got a ball cap for caleb and if we had a girl would be walking out with the super cute tu-tu's they had their. And then their was a whole store of TOYS! yes TOYS!, people! Do you remember the last time you were excited about a toy store? Like when you were young in the backseat of your parents car and you saw....bum-bum-baaaa....Toy's R Us. Its like the heaven of toy lands!
Well there was a much smaller version in the mall. And we had a blast in there...even with out our son with us:)
In the end we left with a ball cap, some sea monkeys and a movie. Oh and a spritz of perfume. Otherwise, for all the hype, I left feeling that I didn't need half the stuff in that place.
Going through the shopping store the other day I was introduced to my 14 month son's new volume level. With no exact words to say he decided to exclaim his joy for life in a loud shreak that lasted a good 30 sec. And then again and again. Over and over he continued. It didn't help that I was now behind some shelves at the back corner of the large dept. style store so it may have appeared to anyone like I was hiding in a corner while the sounds that were made were that of a beaten child. Again and again he decided to make his presence known by belting out in full form his new found level of noise. There was no covering of mouth or shushhing that would relate my distaste for his screams. But the louder he got the more he smiled.
Part of me thought. Great, he's amused and not pulling stuff off the shelves. The other part though, yes, that's my personality coming out for sure.
I've never had to leave a store because my child was happy. However, in light of the fact that the happier he got the more boisterous he got. We had to quickly make our selections and move towards the till, where we were met in line with a quiet looking,kind mennonite woman. She looked at my boy thoughtfully and tenderly. In such a way that a woman who has children of her own may look at another. My boy stared back at her and then blasted out his best yell yet. With a big smile he seemed pleased and the poor woman was dismayed. I don't know if they promote or shame such behaviour in her home but at my its considered a phase that only some secure duct tape could cure at this point. As we moved to the till and out the door he settled down and that was all he had to say. I realized then that my son was a show boat. Loving the attention of others at whatever volume level it took.
Later we went to the park. Out in the fresh open air where children often make plenty of noise naturally, and where he didn't feel the need to barley let out a peep.
Went to see the midwife today. It amazes me how much I like having a midwife. I had one for my first birth and couldn't imagine it any other way.
Laura, the midwife, is a woman who is maybe 10 years my senior. Came from the states with her Dr. husband and now resides here working with the pregnant ladies in the area. I always wonder how that worked out that they met. Midwives tend to give more of a herbal point of view while dr.'s lean towards the prescription end of things.
So all is fine and good. There is still a baby in there. She confirmed that it didn't escape in the night and go join the circus as the bearded baby.
Whew. I'm so relieved.
This is it doing a tumble roll. Part of the circus act I'm sure:)
And here is its karate chop move in case it wants to get into action movies later on in life.
To be honest I'm not as overly excited as I was the first time. I would describe my feelings about it all as being content. Not overly happy and not sad. Just content.
Its like anything I think. Once you know the work that it takes to have one and raise one your a little more conservative with your emotions.
Overall I'm just glad my feet and legs haven't blown up with fluid like last time. And my wedding rings still fit! Yay, still married!
As I pass through other peoples blogs one thing I love is to learn about who they are. In fact the more info they divulge the more interesting it seems. So I don't plan on being TOO personal but I thought. Hey. Lets take a tour of Erin and Tim home. What is in their place?
This is my bookshelf in our bedroom. From top to bottom you can see my organization skills are a little non-martha stewart. However, I love what that woman can do with clutter.
On top I have photos of Tim and I from before we were married. A candle holder i got from a garage sale at a super good price. And a framed scripture of Hebrews 12:12-13. Awesome verse for those shady days.
This is a bit of a helter skelter shelf. Your bedroom is the place for books like massage and "the gift of sex", which I haven't fully read but just skipped through. Good book to skip through. The metal boxes tray is a gift from my friend that Tim now uses to separate change. When we married he had various containers all over the house of pocket change.
I love the Paradise Lost book but its HUGE. Its super difficult to read but its an amazing variation of the Adam and Eve story. My first copy got stolen so now I got the big book of it. :) Managing Emotions. Anyone who knows me knows I need that book. Tim's books of gardening. Yes he loves to garden. And Bury me Standing which is about the Roma in Europe.
And last. The bottom shelf. Full of old photo books. Wedding, Romania, one from an old friend when I was in my early teens and another from a friend. Some photo learning books and then my diaries. You may not know but I have kept a journal from when I was young. Many I've thrown out because of marriage. But I've kept the ones from when I decided to follow Jesus. Seems I like the story after that. Its a new kind of story.
Well that is all. Hope you enjoyed this tour of a portion of our bedroom. Hope it let you in to knowing a bit more about me.
Part of a herd of 99 sheep, it was last seen while passing a wide slope in the road on the way to a narrow path. Owner is offering reward. Says he paid a high price for the sheep and it has sentimental value. Sheep has a reputation of knowing its owners voice but may have been misled by someone of ill manner.
If found please return to owner Jesus, the Christ. Located at the right hand of God, the Father.
Today I brought my toddler son out to the store he will later consider the only place to shop at, as many other men do. Canadian Tire. Yes a place where men can be men. Strolling the isles like hairy long lost campers looking for a wrench. As a woman I find the parts department to be of special interest to the male population. They all gather around the long ordering counter. And as the youth who was only hired an hour ago comes to them and asks what they are looking for they are then required to name off any rendition of their car or truck they can manage. For instance. .. "What can I get for you?" "Well I'm looking for a rear lamp for a 1998 Jeep Wrangler 4x4 with a 4 cyclinder engine." A woman's answer would be.... "Well...I have a 1998 Jeep Wrangler and I my back light is broke. Do you have one of those?"
And what baffles me is they almost always do. What kind of storage do they have back there I wonder.
On a different note. Why does Canadian Tire have tiny carts? If you went to another store the comparison would make the CT carts look like kiddy carts. Which is really funny looking when a grown man is pushing this tiny cart. Perhaps its so they look like they ARE bigger and stronger in comparison to the cart. Tiny cart makes for a large ego.
In most cases the men there don't use carts. No, they browse the isles looking at items and usually only picking up a few things. If they want to buy more they bring their wife who then proceeds to drive the tiny cart around for them.
In my home you wouldn't dare throw out the CT flyer. The only reason we haven't put up one of those signs on our mail box (no junk mail) is because he wants the flyer. Sales always come up there. And not small ones either. 50% or 75% off sales. Makes me feel bad to ever buy anything there at full price.
So my son was as content as a toddler can be in Canadian Tire. Yes, we strolled the isles and avoided strange men. And young men avoided us as we were the mom with a kid routine. I know one day all my seasonal gifts from him will come from there. That place must be packed at Christmas time with men all over asking...what should we get mom?
My advice is leave that store and go get her a gift certificate to a spa or chocolates.
One moment your coming home, quiet and cozy to your simple home on the prarie with an ipod or whatever. Modernize that prarie home if you will.
You take off your coat and set your feet up and WHAM! a pot gets set down in a most ugly fashion. Next thing you know a snarling wolverine woman appears infront of you, posing as your prenant wife. But could it be? NO. She was glowing earlier today. This isn't your wife. It must have ate your wife! and now its yelling at you.
Its like a game of hot at cold. The more comfortable you seem in that chair the more she yells. drop the feet to the floor and stand up and wolverine woman backs down and festers to the kitchen again to bang some pots.
What was that yelling you think? What did I do wrong?
First off. Realize that even if it isn't your fault, its just easier to take the blame for a while. It will pass whatever it is and you can prove your "rightness" at some other time.
Next, do not proceed to try to negotiate or fix the problem. Obviously it is too late and any denial will only make any arguement continue on longer than you want.
Please, get out of your chair, go after your wife, sit down and say nothing at this point. Just sit. Your presence in the room is enough. A woman in essence is able to complete an argument almost fully all on her own.
There will be some key points that you may have to grit through just because she pregnant and probably out of her mind because of the hormones. Otherwise this would be a fair fight.
She'll bring up the problem, then the problem of last week. She may then continue onto that problem that you thought was settled from the last fight but obviously she's and her fierce hormones have been festering on it all this time.
Next you'll be brought to the part of the wreckage that may include anything from failures in your marriage to how you love your mom more than her and how having a baby is all going to be on her shoulders.
Trust me when I say...just let this phase in the arguement pass. You don't have to agree with her. You just have to keep looking her way and don't loose eye contact. If it helps you may want to jump on the table at some point and act larger than her by stretching out your shirt. I've heard that is how to deal with a mountain lion. Whatever you do, don't run. They only run after you. And although pregnant they are very quick.
In the end she'll give up in a frenzy and cry and then is your chance to quickly step in and offer a hug. Remember that if a hug is not taken or pushed away you'll need to wait another moment until the cookie has fully crumbled. Then move in for the save. And Voila. You've survived the attack of the hormones.
Are you offended by my gray hair? Does it make you giggle to see a 30 year old with gray hair? I have a bunch. And I've had them since I was 20. I've just been dying them all this time.
You never knew did you? You just though my hair was naturally a beautiful medium brown with high lights of red here and there. That occasionally it would change with the season and get stunning sun lite high lights. Sure. I'm sure you believed that.
So you didn't. The same as I don't believe that your hair is fully ....whatever color it is. Virgin hair is a term used to describe hair that hasn't been dyed ever or is fully grown out. And as rare a thing as a virgin is over 20 these days, so rare is it to find a woman with such hair.
Nevertheless. I'm letting mine grow out and I have gray hair. And you'll notice it. Yes, there is plenty of it. And I'm okay with that.
Why can't I age? Why can't I have gray hair? Why do I have to stay striving for the beauty of youth for the rest of my years? I won't do it! Nope. I'm giving up on that race. Lets face it. Are old people ugly? Do they reek of a slobb-ish look. No not at all. In fact a well dressed senior or even 40 year old can reek of sophistication if taken care of and being courageous to be who they are.
A cool guy once wrote: Grayhair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life. Proverbs 16:30-32 I'm going to be who I am. Maybe next year I'll dye my hair but right now I need to be okay with me. Okay to have gray hair and glasses. Okay to see a wrinkle and not freak out. Okay that when I go to doctors appointments they now refer to time as "while as we get older". I want to age with class and not some gripping handle hold on a photo in my brain when I was 17 and 120 lbs. (man, that was an awesome time...if only I knew now...blah blah blah) And just a note of thank you to a good friend named Lisa, who has for years been sporting her beautiful gray hairs with pride. Who I thought was so courageous when we were 25 for doing so. Beauty is only skin deep. After that I hope I can boast of having guts!
Ever knock someone off your social network and wonder if they even noticed? Oh, you live far enough away that you won't bump into them any time soon. And surely at some point they may notice that your gone. Yup, gone for good. Out the internet door with your coat and your hat and a stiff "I've had enough". Like dumping someone you shyly click that "take off friends list" and secretly inside wonder how long it will take for them to notice. Relief sets in. They're gone. No more of those sarcastic sayings on your pages or rude comments. No more of their bad jokes or annoying groups that they've joined. Your free! Free from all of that! But will they notice? What if they never notice? What if it never even crosses their little mind that your gone? What kind of a dumping is that? Its like you left with the the big door slam and the last word and they just stayed on the couch and ordered pizza with no blink of an eye. They didn't even notice your toothpaste was gone from the bathroom sink and you took your most favorite snugly blanket too. Man, the nerve of those people! Not even to think that perhaps your little comments of what was going on in your life each day could have even been of any importance to them. Their so self involved. Really!
....
The reality sets in that you can't go back. You can't go and hit "friend request" to them. You can't turn around. They'll then KNOW that you deleted them from your exclusive list of friends and no dead beat excuse of "oh I must have hit that button by accident" will ever save you. Nope. Your out of their gossip ring. You'll never know who their dating now unless through some other friend. The drama of their day to day life that you used to secretly love creeping is a long lost memory to you.
In light of it all your a better person in the end. Sure why not. Out with the old and keeping on with those true friends you have. The ones that really matter. Loyal and loving. Well just the other day I had Kendra on my mind as such a good friend. We haven't spoke in a bit but I did email her that really funny joke. Well I wonder what she's up to.....that's odd. Where's her name on my list?
Ever wonder what your child would grow up to be? They're so cute certainly their good looks will get them some good position in life. Or perhaps they play their 'little tykes' piano like Beethoven and you have ventured into the ideas of your little one being a child genius, only growing up to be ... even more of a genius. Well with all their good looks and charm, and that splash of genius I just mentioned you break out your camera and snap each wakeful moment of their life. From piano banging to toilet training. First look in the mirror to the first reflection in the dogs water dish just before they take a drink. In fact you've caught almost everything that was undoubtedly the most adorable thing your child could do...everyday. And! posted it on face book. So at this point they're what? maybe 2 years old and it hasn't quite occurred to you the ramifications of your actions. But it will.....like when they reach high school and that bully who is also a computer geek (cause that will be the "new cool" ) hacks into your face book account and steals little juniors first potty achievement. But will they really even have to "hack" into facebook. We're on the verge of no privacy these days anyways. By the time our little babies reach fully maturity and are running for CEO of the corportation we always knew they would one day come to, some nasty board member will simply have to type in your baby's name (which has now been shortened because they didn't like the beautifully elegant long style name you gifted them with at the moment of their birth), and pull up the photo day they decided to stick macarroni up their nose and in their ears, and you lovingly thought all your friends would love to share the moment. Well so will all the board members. Yes...still funny after all these years.
Well I pity my children when they grow up. There picture is all over my face book because I'm just so proud of the fact that its a job I've decided to stick with. Being a mom that is. And it sure beats being a CEO. But then again...I kinda am. :)
There is this place in my life has a need for people to hear what I have to say. I want to get to know people and I think that if they REally knew all the ins and outs of me that then I have set my cards on the table. What better way than to have a blog.
At this site your likely to read things that my husband would otherwise forwarn me not to write on the internet. Things like how I feel clothes are so unnecessary except for outside the house. How my feet recently decided to be the first location of old people wrinkles on my body ; And how I struggle between being the perfect mom who puts cloth diapers on my toddler or fails miserably and will only forward my child to work at some low style fast food chain store because I've broke down and used disposables. And yes he may have had some sugar type substance before 12 months old. Pls don't report me to the government. I really do love my baby.
So in closing to this mild rant I am prone to life in action adventures that I will share in my colourful way here. Please feel free to leave a comment as that's always appreciated. And before you leave this comment...i know I'm a bad speller. But I'm better than my husband so it makes me feel smrt. :)
I think we've come to the end of the well wishing neighbors who welcome you into their neighborhood. I assume that the rest don't care that we're here or were not "welcomed in" when they arrived.
