In this skin

Lately I have been thinking about me.

About who I am and where I came from.

I miss being young.

So young that you are oblivious to all the scrutiny of your peers.

It seems that life is like that.

People always looking...critisizing...passing judgement.

For me it started when I moved here from the West coast.

My first day of school was TERRIBLE.

I was dressed all wrong for city living and me and everyone in my new class new it.

A boy wanted to be my boyfriend...WHAT?????????

I didn't fit in.

High school wasn't much better.

Every year a new set of friends.

Every year a new drama that made me feel inadequate.

The last girl to wear a bra....pointed out ever so kindly by a boy.

Nice.

The wrong clothes....pointed out not so nicely by a girl.

Not so nice.

Sitting in the cafeteria that defined who you were in the social stratification ladder based on how far away you sat from the "cool" people.

Getting flakies smashed in your face by a friend who thought it was funny.

Not funny when you knew your mom couldn't afford them often and half of it was wasted.

Ahhhhh have I mentioned I hated high school?

I have a friend who always tells me it wasn't that bad.

I always tell her she went to a different High School.

Fast forward 2 years.

Things went from bad to worse.

I found a new niche of friends.

I rode with the wrong crowd.

I did things I really shouldn't have done...EVER.

I felt good about myself to an extent because there was always a guy.

Not that way you think.

But I always had a boyfriend.

For some reason that made me feel better about me.

Maybe I wasn't that bad after all.

But still I always felt misplaced.

I didn't really have a vision for my life.

I didn't KNOW who I wanted to be when I grew up.

I envied those people with a plan.

I went to University because I thought I had it figured out.

I really didn't.

And then I met HIM.

The ONE.

He seemed to bring out the best in me.

I shared secrets on our first date that I really shouldn't have.

He didn't get scared.

He didn't run

He didn't judge.

He has always help me put things into perspective.

But it hasn't always been rosy.

We fight in our passive aggressive ways.

We can go for days without speaking if we both stick in our heels.

I have sometimes been so mad that I think I can do it on my own.

But I always lie there in the night knowing I am where I am meant to be.

We whisper in the night about the couple down the street who are splitting up and how sad it is.

We make promises to each other to better communicate with each other.

We say our I love yous daily.

We kiss goodbye and hello.

He loves me with my flaws.

My post partum muffin top that I am 20 pounds away from losing.

My hair that is constantly in a pony.

My complexion that is far from perfect and has been without a stitch of make up for months.

My no longer stylish wardrobe of yoga pants, tshirts and flip flops.

And on days where I feel that I am not who I need to be he calls me Super Mom and gives me a hug through my tears.

This is who I am, who I was meant to be when I grew up.

And he loves me.

In this skin.

Looky what I made!

Looks pretty good doesn't it??

It is a coconut layer cake filled with lemon butter cream and raspberry preserves.





















Okay so the inside looks pretty messy but it WAS good and SHE really liked it.




















Happy Birthday Mom!

Sweet dreams.......

Is what M whispered to me on his final descent over the crib tonight.

*sigh*

I love him.

Today....

I was reminded to look at life through the eyes of a child.

As M and I walked where our loved ones have been laid to rest I couldn't help but smile at his excitement to be outside, in the glorious sunshine, running free in the grass. It made me smile the way he runs and moves his feet like the penguin from Happy Feet.

It also made me remember to try to live each day in the moment and to cherish all the funny little things he does.

Like this........

Notice how he has ALL red cars and they are lined up from smallest to largest.......

He did that all on his own.

Smart Kid.

Enjoy your day!

On a Saturday 7 years ago....

...it was July 20th, not the 18th and that Saturday I lost my Brother.


And these were the words that helped me get through it then:


Strength: because it helped me get through the days, weeks and years that followed his death.

Courage: because it made me stand in a room full of people that I wanted to run away from.

Faith: because it allowed me to believe that he was in a better place than the hell that our family and friends were going through.

Belief: because I was sure that God wanted him and my Father together and no one can ever tell me differently.


Patience: because I allowed myself the time I needed and still need to cope with living my life without him.


Laughter: because there was an exact moment that to my Sister and I that it was the best medicine.

Regret: because I often think of what could have been.

Love: because it took that summer to make me realize that nothing in this world is more important than family.





















RIP KULAPATE
X/O

Mama's nook.....

.....is where he likes to be.

Finding your voice

That is what motherhood does to you.

At least that is what it has done to me.

I have always prided myself on picking my battles.

Staying quiet when I knew nothing good would come from what I had to say.

Sometimes staying too quiet and letting things fester into something in my mind that was way beyond what it actually should be.

And now I find that I can't curb my tongue on most occasions.

Someone will say something and I will instantly decide whether they are right or wrong.

And most times I will speak before I think.

Not always endearing when I may hurt someones feelings.

I have become judgemental, snippy, and more impatient than I ever was.

These are not qualities that I wish to pass on to my children.

I have decided however that it mostly comes from a lack of sleep.

And partly from things that you don't get until you become a Mom.

Like someone letting your child play with something inappropriate and lashing out when maybe there was a better way to say it.

So tonight as I go to bed I am going to try to use my voice in a better way.

To go back the the basics that I know so well and have taught to so many others.

To listen with both ears.

To ask allot of questions so the other person can find the answer on their own without me snapping it at them.

To be a better teacher, friend, mentor and coach.

And to be the person that my boys will be proud to call Mom.

Layouts

So I have actually been scrapping lately. Surprising since I barely have 1/2 hour to spend showering and getting dressed on most days. I was reading one of my fav Scrap blogs "Gettin' By" and she was promoting the art of the 30 minute page. So I thought I would give it a try.



Okay this two pager took 2 days not 30 minutes but at least it is progress.

TFL!

This is a stick up!

And apparently he surrenders!!!

Fears

Everyone has them.


I don't think we would be human if we didn't.


Some are phobia's if you will, like fear of heights...spiders.....closed in spaces.


And some wake you from your deepest sleep with a blood curdling scream.


My greatest fear began after the death of an Uncle. I would wake up screaming in the night and not really remembering what I was screaming about.


But I knew....deep down I knew.


Those bouts of screaming continued for years, each following a substantial scare or loss in my life.


And then suddenly they stopped.


I have been scream free for almost three years.


I feel like that is a line from a 12 step program.


This was not meant to be a morbid post, just one to document my fears today


I have several.


1. That B one day won't come home. Not because he left me but because something terrible has happened to him on the way to, at, or on the way home from work. He does not understand this fear but every once in a while he will do or say something that makes me believe he has the same fear. Like today when he asked me to move away from the patio doors during a lightning storm.


2. That M will fall down the stairs and crack his head open. This one consumes me. Ask my Sis. Or my Mom. I know I have to let go and let him do it on his own. I am trying not to be a helicopter mom and hover but still. I would just assume not have a child with broken bones.

3. That I will drop J. I swear I had this same fear with M. Will I make the right choice if I'm carrying too many things and will I save my Son and not the darn phone. I doubt my maternal reflex/instinct. That scares the sh*t out of me.

4. That one of my children will get sick and have to be hospitalized and I will have to leave the other child at home. Don't get me wrong, wild horses couldn't drag me from the hospital if one of them was there. But I fear that the other one will become resentful.

5. Losing a child. I don't need to elaborate.

6. My children growing up without me. As in me dying and them not knowing me. I know this sounds narcissistic but I don't mean it that way. Lets face it, for the most part no one loves their cubs better than Mama Bear and does anyone really want a child not to know that love.

I have many more fears but those 6 are the ones on my mind all the time lately.

Those are the 6 that could send me back to me screaming in my sleep and B hugging me in my sleep in order to get me to stop.

It helped to write it down.

What are your fears???

Is it bad....

That I think bedtime is the most wonderful time of the day?

That I have a big sigh of relief when all the kids.....including the man of the house are asleep and I can breathe?

That I saved the last ice cream treat for me just for this very occasion?

One day too late

One day too late remembering.......



One day too late to say goodbye......



And as she lay in bed last night, she thought about that day seven years ago.





She remembered thinking that day, that it was important to go for a visit, even though she had visitors.



She wanted to make sure He was okay.



She wanted to make sure he knew that he was loved.



She wanted to tell him that she was proud of him, even when he did it "His Way".



She knew as she walked up the stairs to the balcony that something was wrong.



She looked at the clothes strewn across the floor.



She saw the full beer bottles and the cigarette that had burnt out half way.



She heard the television inside the little apartment that he kept.



She saw the screen door open an inch.



She knocked....no answer.



She stood for what seemed like an hour deciding if she should go in.



Something stopped her from going in.



She didn't want to intrude if he was passed out on the couch, unable to make it to his bed.



She sat down and wrote the note he never got. To this day She has no idea what became of that note. Her perfect memory has blocked the words that were written down on the receipt paper from the corner store.



She walked down the stairs and looked back up the stairs wondering if he was alright.



She remembered walking across the bridge back downtown. The tears were flowing freely.



She knew something was wrong.



She saw the church up ahead and decided to go and pray. And as she sat in that pew at the back of that beautiful church, praying and crying, she knew she was in the wrong place and that her prayers were not going to be answered.



She knew he wouldn't want her sitting there.



And so she left.



She stopped to have a coffee with a friend on the way home and then made the journey back home.



The call came withing minutes of her being in the door.



He was gone.



A neighbour had found him on the couch.



The ambulance had taken him away.



Today she wanted to forget how he looked when she went to the hospital.



She wanted to forget the wild look in his eyes, the color of his skin, the frailness of his body, and the odour that only comes with death.



That memory will never leave her.



Nor will the guilt that she should have gone inside.



Or visited more.



Or made sure Holidays didn't pass with out a call or visit.



She wanted to forget the little piece of a newspaper clipping, torn from the back section of the classifieds, that was left behind in his apartment that clearly was left on purpose to convey his wishes.



She wanted to forget the letter that came a year later saying his ashes were ready to be released to the family and that they could courier them if the family wanted.



No, the family did not want.



She wanted to forget how sad she felt when she made the trip to bring him home how she almost crumbled when his remains were handed over to her like a piece of paper, without so much as a thank you or please accept our condolences.



She wanted to forget how she decided that she would work that morning as the rain fell.

She wanted to forget the small ceremony at the cemetery that didn't seem quite right.

She wanted to forget about the box still wrapped in craft paper that was lowered into the ground, probably in a spot that he would have hated.

She wanted to forget the crappy memories and remember the good ones.

But today she couldn't.

And today as She sipped her tea, she held her Son that would never know him and said goodbye again.

And she wondered if He knew.

If he knew that she thought of him often.

That she loved him.

That one of her sons was named after him.

She wondered if her dreams about him really were a meeting place for them.

She wondered if she would ever see him again.

And mostly she wondered if he knew that she was sorry for not going in.