Last Saturday night I was checking in at my favorite social network sites when I noticed a message from an old high school friend.  She was writing to let me know that my best friend from high schools' mother had passed away.

Its funny ( and by funny, I really mean not so much...) how one message can send you spiraling backwards in time.  In  an instant I was back in 1988.

This friend of mine was my partner in crime so to speak.  We started to smoke together, we drank a lot some together, we went to bush parties, had house parties, hung around the War Memorial flirting with all the skate boarders.  We loved the skate boarders.  Hell, I even busted my wrist that summer trying to do an ollie.  But I digress.

I spent so much time at her house.  So much that my Mom commented tonight how she thought that it was my second home.  I didn't want to tell her, but at that time I felt like it was more home than ours.  My parents were going through a separation and our duplex on Louisbourg was not somewhere that I wanted to be.

I called my friend that night.  I hadn't talked to her in a few years but her phone number was tucked away nicely  in my memory bank.    I know when I lost my Dad and my Brother , the last thing I wanted to do was reach out to people, but I was comforted when they reached out to me.

We talked  for a while about her Mom and shared some stories about her.  I have such wonderful memories being in their home; being in their basement watching Ferris Buellers Day Off  while her Mom sat in her chair and knit.  I spent many  mornings in their kitchen and many a night at their  dinning table.  It makes my heart heart for my friend that her Mom wont be in that house anymore.

I attended the wake this evening to see my old friend and pay my respect.  I was feeling a lot of trepidation about going.   I hate funeral homes.  With .  A.  Passion.  They smell of lilies and I will never, ever, ever like that flower.  EVER.  They remind me of the losses that my family has had.  And you inevitably bump into someone that makes you uncomfortable.    I know these points are all silly and irrelevant, however they are my feelings, and they are coming from the girl who hates funeral homes so much that she left her own brother's wake because she couldn't stand to be there one more minute.  And not because I didn't love him, but rather because I did.

I had a sick feeling in my stomach the entire drive across the river.  I walked in and saw my friend and I wanted to cry.  I asked all the questions that one asks at these things.  All the ones I hated, but found myself asking anyways. ( My Apologies D.)  I smelled those damn funeral  flowers, and I saw the one person that I knew would make me uncomfortable.

I left disappointed in myself for not trying to bridge the gap.  I left sad for my friend and her sister.  I left with some more memories that I wasn't expecting to resurface but they did.  I left happy that I reconnected with my old friends but sad that I let so much time pass, and that I let my feelings of insecurities get in the way of keeping in touch with these girls, who whether they know it or not, had a huge impact on the person I am today.  I left and went for a drive.

 I drove along the water, past the marina and thought of my friend and her Mom.  I  felt like I could drive forever tonight.  I'd  like to say that on my drive I had some mind blowing revelations about life and death, but sadly I did not.  Looking at the river made me think of how rapidly things change in your life.  One minute the waters are still and peaceful, and the next choppy and rough.  ( In awe of my metaphoric analogies, aren't you?)  I think we all want the peacefulness of the still waters, but lately they seem elusive.  Tonight just  reminded me that its not just me.  

RIP Ms. D

Staggered tears

My Biggest is off to Junior Kindergarten this year.

 3 hours away from home each morning,  to meet new friends and learn new skills.

Here in Ontario, JK has a staggered entry.  On Tuesday we went to meet his teacher and his resource teacher, both lovely ladies.

And if i were not concentrating so hard at keeping my composure I'm sure I would have enjoyed the process for my little man more.

We have been playing up school all summer long.  I have talked about it since I registered him for Kindergarten last February, where I cried amidst all the little ones saying their morning prayer and signing our National Anthem.

We have taken him to the playground at the school during the month of August to acclimate him to the environment, where I may or may not have had tears of joy and pride in my eyes when we peaked into the classroom and guessed at which class might be his.

I called the school last Monday to confess my Mommy fail for not attending the School bus safety training with him.  I may have choked back some tears when I was expressing some of my concerns to the resource teacher, who kindly suggested that I bring him in 5 days earlier than scheduled just so he can check things out.

And upon meeting the teacher and resource teacher, there were some moments when I knew I had to stop talking just because the words were going to come out in a blubbery mess.  Said teacher patted my arm and said I would be fine.

I will be fine and I know he will be fine.

It's just that he is my first to go off to school and as his mom,  I reserve the right to worry and shed tears of joy and sadness.

I have my reasons, we all do.

So next Tuesday is a big day for him.

His first day in the class for the entire three hours, with a few little friends.  I'm excited for him for that day.

And the following Tuesday will be his first week at school with the entire class.

The day after, he takes the bus for the first time.

Dear Lord, Please help me really enjoy those moments and help me get past the anxiety of the bus because I have worked so hard at getting him excited for this.  And please forgive my selfish tears.

I know he will be great.

And if there are some bumps along the way?  Par for the course..

He's going to make history that kid of mine.  I just know it.

Nighty night.

It was one of those days...

One hour into our day it started.

The hitting, biting, the throwing of toys.

The pushing, the shoving, the screaming.

It was not a day I wanted to be a part of.

It was not one of my finer moments in parenting.

M was in his room twice today.

After the second time I vowed to give all of us some space.

So I did what I don't normally do and let him play on a different floor than J and myself for a good portion of the afternoon.

It was slightly peaceful, but M was still tired, and cranky, possessive and unkind, that it still made the afternoon difficult.

I tried for 4 hours to get him outside for a walk, but he was having none of it, Until 1 hour before dinner.

Of course.

So out we went for a walk around the block.

The sun was just setting and both of them looked so stinkin' cute waddling in their heavy snowsuits.

The air did all of us some good.

Until bedtime...

Then it all went to the pooper again.

M is going through some sort of  Idontwanttogotobedrightnow phase.

Paired with MommyMommyMommyyoumustliebesidemewhileItrytosleep phase.

Every. Night.

I'm tired of the drama at bedtime.

The scolding at bedtime.

The raised voice at bedtime.

The complete frustration at bedtime.

Tired.


As I lay there with him watching him fall asleep tonight I wondered about a few dozen things.

Is he scared?

Does he know I love him to the moon and back?

Is he trying to one up me?

Is this a power/control issue?

What the beep am I doing wrong?

Giving in?

Loving him to much?

Not enough?

Not spending enough time with him?

Spending too much time with him?

I was a Mother I didn't want to be today.

The mother that scolded to much, raised her voice to much.

I made a conscious decision to let technology go today with a few minor updates here and there.

I didn't craft,

I didn't shower,

I didn't do dishes.

I didn't make dinner, and opted for leftovers paired with nuggets and fries.

I tried to be present.

I just don't think I did a very good job of it today.

I cried...

Last week when I heard the radio commercial informing me that this would be the week.

I cried when I told my Boss that  I was feeling a little sad about it.

I cried when I went to sign him up this morning.

He will be 4 in 3 more months.

He is JK bound in 7 months.

I know I will have a steady stream of tears those first few days.

He stills seems like a baby to me.