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

1990 to 2012

Yesterday I was listening to satellite radio and this song came on.

1990 came flooding back like it was yesterday.

It's funny how something can stay with us for years.

A song that speaks to us, a scent, an icon.

This was, and still is, a gentle reminder to me that life is not always going to be perfect.

Everyone has their battles to fight.

Some are more complicated than others.

And sometimes it's not fighting the battle,

but getting past that image of your life that you planned for yourself that will lift the heavy clouds.

I think my rain clouds may have been lifted by this song, and by a decision to try a little harder.

 

 

Some words of wisdom.

Just because you have not eaten in 10 hours does not mean you should go through a KFC drive through.  Not only will you experience the longest wait of your life, but also, the food will taste like crap in a bag.

When you see the smallest amount of snow, you should probably go straight home,and not the long way.  That small amount of snow might will turn into white out conditions on the back roads, causing  a skunk to blend in nicely, which can only end craptastically.

When you decide to go to the store to get some ice  cream and discover one last container of your favorite flavor that you're fairly certain has been discontinued, don't buy it.  It's probably stale.  You won't enjoy it, and you will be angry at yourself for buying something that tastes like crap in a frozen container.

Block your nose when you get out of the car because the smell of burnt skunk is not pleasant.  Worse than crap.

ALWAYS resolve issues with your children.  They will not go to sleep peacefully until you do.  You will become frustrated at the people who didn't heed your advice on this, so at a bare minimum make sure you do it otherwise you run the risk of feeling like crap.

A fire, regardless if electric or wood burning will always help take the edge off.

At least I'm stilling smiling.

Today

• Woke at 6:20, which incidentally is considered sleeping in.
• U-tubed  this song that I woke up with in my head and sang it all morning.
•  Finally watched the entire Monsters Inc movie with the kiddos after approximately 24 attempts.
• Checked in at my favorite social network sites.
• Read a chapter or two of this book.
• Had some hot chocolate with the kiddos.
• Played with Lego.
• Daydreamed.
• Napped for 2 hours.  (alle-frickin-luia )
• Grocery shopped.
• Went for a nice long drive.
• Had soft tacos for dinner with homemade guacamole.
• Surfed a little more.
• Got this song stuck in my head all night.
• Danced with J, he was crusty...it seemed to help.
• Intervened on a spaceship meltdown between two little people.
• Tickled M and played the elevator game.
• Read J this book, three times.
• Stubbed my pinkie toe for the second time in as many nights trying to round up The Bigs for bed.
• Looked at  pictures of the boys when they were wee.
• Daydreamed and surfed some more.

That was my completely random, didn't accomplish anything extraordinary,  day.
Night.
J

This is the post that has been written and re-written in my head more times that I care to share.  Its time to get it off my chest in some small way.

When my son was  an infant, I labelled him serious.  It was difficult to get him to smile, laugh, make eye contact.  He seemed to be developing normally otherwise.  I figured his personality would be more like mine; quiet until he was comfortable, then goofy when he trusted you.  I was pretty much on cue with that.  He seemed to learn things fast.  I thought he was a genius at eighteen months because he was reading along with me, counting, lining his red cars in a perfect row from smallest to largest.

He hit two and I braced myself.  I was waiting for something terrible to happen that never really did.  Sure he had tantrums but not anything monumental.  I could handle them.  He was given time outs in his room because he wouldn't sit on the floor.  He didn't understand that he had to stay in one place.  No big deal, he went to his room.

Three hit and I started to worry about school.  His vocabulary seemed to have stalled.  We were not having two way conversations that most kids at that age were having with their Mom.  I brushed it off.  School was more than a year away and in a year there is a ton of development.

Three was not fun.  And by not fun, I mean it didn't think I was going to survive.  We had wild tantrums in the street.  Hair was pulled, arms were bitten, shins were kicked.  No communication as to why it was happening,  but I could gauge pretty accurately from external cues what was going to set him off.   Not walking in the direction that he wanted to walk in, a different bedtime routine, his brother taking his toy, leaving a location he wasn't ready to leave.  All sound normal for a toddler who is desperately trying to control his world.  What I also noticed was my huge inabilities to reach him during those meltdowns.  I couldn't soothe him, I couldn't explain why we were doing what we were doing in a way that he understood or accepted.  I couldn't get him to look at me, I couldn't soothe him when he hurt himself, I couldn't break his attention away from the repetitive play that he was involved in.  I knew something was there but I wasn't sure what.  I always saw my Sister looking at my at different times with questions in her eyes but she never asked the question because she knew I wasn't ready to give her an answer.

On the night of his fourth birthday he was in his room, standing on the rail of his brothers crib and jumping off of it onto his bed.  There was no fear there, no comprehension that he could hurt himself   He never understood danger.  My Sister was in the room and gently asked me if I thought something was there. I started to cry and say yes I think there may be something wrong.  I cried because I knew she saw what I was seeing but never once  used the words different or wrong.  She used the words special.  I had seen her watch him over the years and I knew she saw the same things I did.

At his four year old check up his pediatrician watched him and listen to what I had to say about his development.  He made a referral to a specialist that deals with developmental and attention disorders.  I remember sitting in the specialist office, willing myself not to cry but looking for a little bit of validation that I wasn't going crazy, that maybe my son needed some extra help.  He put his pen down, looked at me and said,  " Mom, what do you think is wrong?"  The tears came because it was my opportunity to get a little validation.  I had gone online and done some research.  I had nailed down some of his behaviors and attributed them to something on the Autism spectrum.  He listen to me, let me cry, and redirected my thoughts.  He felt that it was possibly Aspergers  or a Pervasive Development Disorder.  He immediately put in a referral to OCTC for a physiological assessment to determine the root cause of M`s development delays.

I have cried A LOT over the past year for many reasons.  I don't want my son to be labelled.  I don't like it when people tell me that Aspergers is the excuse de jours  for behavioral problems with children.  I don't like it when  people tell me that it will be really unfortunate if he doesn't have anything wrong with him and that I have taken it to the level that I have because now all of this will be in his school file.  I don't like it when someone who is supposed to love us sticks their head in the sand and avoids the issues.  I don't like being the only one to advocate for my child. I don't like feeling alone. 

He had his first appointment at OCTC today.  Not with a psychologist but with some different therapist that could recommenced strategies to help him during the long wait for his assessment.  The resources that they will provide is astounding.  Speech therapy, dietitians, social workers, occupational therapists.  Nothing short of amazing.  I`m taking what ever I can get with no pride getting in the way.  He deserves everything, this kid of mine.  All I really want for him are the tools that he needs to grow and succeed.  I don't need my child to be a doctor or lawyer.  I will never put that sort of pressure on him.  I am not the competitive Mom that has their child enrolled in so many activities that they forget what it is to just play.  I have walked away from different opportunities for myself over the past year because the timing is wrong.  I put myself on the back burner frequently because that is what I believe I should do.  He needs me to advocate for him and that is what I plan to do.

Love you kiddo.

“So be sure when you step, Step with care and great tact. And remember that life's A Great Balancing Act. And will you succeed? Yes! You will, indeed! (98 and ¾ percent guaranteed) Kid, you'll move mountains.”
― Dr. Seuss

hiatus

A blogging one that is.
Most things are going on the back burner for now.
This is where I need to be.

Enjoy life my friends. 
It really is fleeting.

xo
J

Christmas 2011

I didn't post much about our holidays in December, mostly because finding fabulous for less was keeping me on my toes.  Getting home each night after a hectic day usually meant unwinding with the family and the mad dash to bedtime.  Then came year end inventory.  Oh how I loathe thee.

I digress,

Christmas was in fact great.  I make it a point every year to be prepared, if not done and ready to enjoy the season before we hit December.  Yes I am THAT person.  I have to be THAT person with my job otherwise I will turn into some sort of female version of Ebenezer and we don't want that to happen do we?  I hear so many people that work in my industry just so grumpy and fed up by the time we get to Christmas Eve that it is just plain sad.  Not me my friends.  I'm that chipper one in the corner belting out Christmas Carols that doesn't care if you can hear me or not.  Chipper because my shopping is done, my home is decorated and I may have a few dozen cookies baked.

You can throw something at me now if you like....

But seriously, it is the most wonderful time of the year so why not be happy. I'm grumpy far to many other weeks of the year, I don't need to be for those four weeks. But I also don't have any time for anything else because I gave all my chipperness away in the 14 hours that I was awake.  No scrapping, not allot of visiting.  Just home and work...home and work.  I'm okay with that too.

But now that it is all over I have  slightly more time to do things I enjoy...like scrapping.  Tina gave me some papers to work with waaaaaaaaaaaay back in October and guess what??  I scrapped!!!


The first one is some funny pictures that were captured on Christmas day.  I love them all because we all looked like we were having fun.

Huge fan of scrapping the 3x4 right now.  so easy to create a collage in Picasa and send to your developer.  You can fit way more pictures on a single 12x12 layout.

Me and the bigs with Santa.  My kids wont go near him alone.  Also, I forgot to put a title on this one so I made the teeny tiny chipboard the title just above the picture.  It says "Have you been good?"  I thought it was appropriate enough...and easy.

And then lastly, one about Scout, our elf.  The boys LOVE him, especially M.  I have been so impressed that he hasn't tried to touch him for the last two Christmases.

I have one or two more Christmas themed pages that I want to do.  As much as I love to scrap the everyday, I love to scrap the holidays.  They are part of our memories that I want to remember.  In the mean time though I'm reading this in my limited spare time:

So far so good.  I got a little emotional within the first three pages of reading it, but that story is for another day.  I'm looking forward to the moments that I can curl up with it.

Have a great day!