I am a terrible blogger!  It has been months since I made myself find time to sit down and type anything...so long, in fact, that I forgot how to even get into my own blog.  I have been reading other peoples blogs fairly frequently so I decided it was time to re-try writing my own.

The thing with reading other blogs is that once I read them, I feel like they have spoken to me in such a way that I no longer have to vent anything out.  My own thoughts have been validated somehow, whether they have been rational or not, and I no longer have to say it in my own voice.  So instead of writing I have filled my time with other things I`ve been meaning to get around to but have kept putting off.  In short, I have been neglectful of my own blog because I have felt I have nothing to say that hasn`t been said already.

I am never one to keep my opinion to myself, and I see that as a good quality even though it can sometimes lead to trouble.  Recently, this very trait got me into a hearty debate with someone, causing a falling out that I have no desire to repair.

A few months ago, I joined with a few ladies and together we started a Cooking Collective.  It was supposed to be a fun way to get together and batch cook freezer meals in a healthy and cost efficient way.  It was working for a while, at least the low cost and healthy part of it was.  We met once a month for 2 months before we were kicked out of the church kitchen we had been using.  So we broke into 2 smaller groups and used the home kitchens of 2 of the members for 2 more months before things fell apart.  The last two cooks were way better! As far as I could tell, things were going well.  We all seemed to be on the same page as far as budget, recipes and the new way our group was running.  Apparently I had missed something though.  The girl that had been sort of the `leader`of the group was difficult to communicate with, if anyone offered an idea that was contrary to how she wanted things done, it seemed to be shot down immediately.  It seemed to me that the rest of the group were treated like inferiors who were evidently incapable of having any sort of responsibility yet were frequently told we needed to `step it up`and `take more responsibility`despite having repeatedly offered to take on various tasks.

As I mentioned above, I am not one to keep my mouth shut and this way of being treated ultimately came to a head.  Not for the first time I had a vigorous back and forth with this particular person.  It seems I struck a nerve!  I don`t know if it was that I didn`t back down to her or if I was out of line or if she just gave up but this back and forth led to her removing me from the group.  The group ended almost immediately after that exchange.

I spent the next couple of days mulling over the events that had transpired, over thinking each detail.  I went through many emotions: hurt, anger, embarrassment, disbelief, indignation.  Some people bring out the worst in you, no matter how hard you try to be the bigger person.  She was that person to me.  From the moment I met her (which was months beforehand) I knew we would clash, and I`m not placing all the blame on her, I know what part I played in the relationship.  If I had kept my opinion to myself instead of voicing it (loudly) maybe we would still have a group.  Maybe not.

I have finally come to the conclusion that I would rather say how I feel in the moment, whether it is the popular choice or not, than keep my mouth shut for fear of being kicked out of the group, so to speak.  I have a voice, and it counts.

Bad Thoughts!

I read a blog this morning that immediately made me feel a bit better about my own attitude this morning.  It was about mom confessions, the things we think, feel and do and often feel guilty about.  It's always nice to know others have 'bad' thoughts too!

I am not a morning person.  I am one of those people that will hit the snooze button 18 times.  I prioritize sleep over getting up and having enough time to do my make up and opt for a messy ponytail instead of busting out an array of styling tools!  I hate waking up.  I hate the groggy feeling.  I hate having to get out from under the warm blanket and up into the chill of the early morning (sometimes I'll lay there for 'just one more furnace cycle').  I hate having zero time to adjust to the noise of my 3 kids who, like most kids, seem to be overly excited about the dawn of a new day.  I pretty much hate it all.

This morning was a particularly bad morning for me.  Nothing really happened, I just really felt that I required more sleep than I was apparently going to get.  I laid there for an hour stewing about it.  I fantasized about getting up and storming out the door, driving to a hotel and sleeping there for the rest of the day!  I willed myself to stay in bed instead of going into the dining room (where my girls sat eating cheerios, or rather singing at the top of their lungs) and having a full blown freak out.  I laid there and felt sorry for myself.  I laid there and felt guilty about the fact that I would rather sleep in than get up and be part of the family.  I laid there and felt mad that, even though he was doing a nice thing for me, my husband was letting the kids be so freakin' noisy!  I laid there and felt jealous of all my friends who are able to send the kids off to gramma and grampas house for sleepovers.  I heard the beep-beep-beeeeep of the coffee maker signalling that coffee was indeed ready and even that was not enough to shake my bad attitude.

When I finally gave in an hour later and got up I still felt bad.  I didn't even feel all that tired anymore, just bad that all those thoughts went through my head, and not for the first time.  I felt bad because what if my kids and husband somehow knew I had been internally cursing them and fantasizing about another life.  A life in which I could sleep past 6 am without having to get up to give the baby a soother, or shush my older kids, a world where I could have as many hours as I wanted of blissful uninterrupted sleep!

But if I had that life, I wouldn't have this one.

I love my family, more than words can express.  Sometimes I look at my kids and my eyes well with tears because I love them so much that (in the words of my mother) joy leaks out of my eyeballs.  I wouldn't trade this life for anything.

Feelings like the ones I had this morning don't make me a bad mom, they make me human.  By sharing those feelings, it allows me to own them and let go of the guilt I feel for having those thoughts in the first place.  I don't have to be that sun-shiny, always smiling mom I see in TV commercials that has a spotless home and can wear white from head to toe without getting it dirty!  Real moms occasionally have bad thoughts, and that's OK!

(Although, some extra sleep would be nice sometimes!|)

Mom.  Such a tiny word, such a huge meaning.  I have been thinking a lot lately about what that word means to me.  About what kind of mom I am versus the kind I want to be.  Since the beginning of time women have been critical of one another and it seems to me that moms are among the women most likely to judge each other quickly and harshly.  I see it frequently on various Facebook pages- these groups that are created with the intent to be a safe haven to ask questions, get support and maybe even make friends are often filled with sharks just waiting to smell blood, to attack an innocent victim.  Maybe these angry moms are having a bad day?  Maybe they are just out to make others feel bad?  Maybe they really think they know it all?  Whatever the reason you can bet they were once on the other end of the argument, feeling judged, unsure of themselves and wondering if they were making the right choices.

There are so many types of moms out there to compare yourself to it can be overwhelming.  Here are some I find myself comparing myself to:  The crafty mom (my pinterest attempts never look as good as theirs!) The mom who has time to put on make up and do her hair mom (where does she find the time?!), the organic mom (is it really any better than regular food?!), the workout mom (again, where does she find the time AND where does she get the energy?!), the nothing fazes me mom (maybe she's a real bitch when no one is looking?!)  the mom that never yells (she must count to 10, a LOT!!), the always has a sitter mom (seriously, how?!) and the perfectly balanced life mom (I know she doesn't really exist, but sometimes it sure seems like she's got it all).  I know it's bad form to compare myself to others, and that all these above mentioned  moms of course have issues and shortcomings of their own but aren't there women that seem to be planted in our lives for the sole purpose of making us insecure?  I can name a few off the top of my head-but I won't.  I have traits of these moms in me, but if I'm being completely honest I am the mom that isn't OK with messes, that cares too much about how I think people are judging my noisy bunch in public, that yells, that lets my kids eat McDonalds, that rarely has time to do hair, make up or dress up, and that lest my kids watch TV for longer than 'the recommended amount of time!'  There, my secrets are out.

 I suppose if I feel this way, others must too.  We all question our life decisions, being a mom and being responsible for shaping another human just adds another complex layer.  I remember, before I had kids, thinking I would never be a mom that yelled, yeah...ask me how that turned out!  (NOT well, hahaha)  There are nights that, after tucking my sweeties into bed, I feel like the worst mom alive because it seems to me all I've done all day is get after and yell at my kids.  Do other moms go through this ever?  Does it mean I am doing a bad job?  Am I damaging my children?  I guess the point of this post is to encourage my fellow moms to reach out to each other, to empower and support each other to build each other up, not beat each other down.  To remember that you aren't alone, many have been here before you and so to will they be here after you.  You are mom, and you are everything to someone.

About 6 months ago I came across an interesting post in a mom group on facebook.  It was from girl putting a call out to any moms that had anything to donate to her friend who had given birth to a baby boy that day, just hours after finding out she was pregnant.  Yes, it was a real live case of "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant!"  My husband was immediately skeptical..."Sounds like she just wants free stuff..."  I was shocked to hear of a real instance of a person not knowing they were pregnant, I mean how can you make it 9 months preggo and not have a single indication?  Even the 'fluffiest' lady must feel uncomfortably round by then!  I dug out an old diaper bag and put in the few blue things I had accumulated after having 3 girls (there is A LOT of pink stuff at my house)  and gave her the old infant car seat that had been gathering cobwebs in the garage.  I was happy to help, and couldn't imagine what must be going through that poor mama's head. Having a planned birth can be a whirlwind, but not knowing...I just can't imagine!

I have since noticed a trend in these facebook groups: frequently there are moms-to-be, or their friends, asking for charity.  I am not opposed to giving a helping hand, what bothers me is that in almost every case I've noticed the moms are due within a couple of months and have NOTHING!  Usually one of the following lines accompanies the post:  "She's really young." or "She doesn't have much family." or "She's single."  What have these women been doing the past 6,7, 8 months???  Why have they not been getting their nest ready?  Why have they not been scouring for whatever they can get if they are in such financial dire straights?  What did they think was going to happen at the end of the 9 months of carrying that little bundle inside of them?  And, yes, I realize how incredibly judgemental I am coming off as right now, but I frankly don't care!  I'm not just seeing one or two of these situations, but several withing the last couple of weeks.  I totally get that people fall on hard times, but when you are bringing another life into the world you are the one responsible for it.  Not the rest of the world.  However it happened, you got pregnant now it's time to do right by that baby.

Perhaps what irks me the most about these situations is, if you can't prepare for this babies arrival in the 9 months you have to do so, what kind of life are you going to give that child?  Again, yes, judgemental...and yes, some of them I'm sure will be great moms...but let's be realistic here.  I am definitely not saying I'm a perfect parent or that I have it all figured out,  but I was prepared for each of my children.  I'm not saying I'm better than anyone because I didn't need hand outs (I like free stuff too!) but I made choices appropriate for my situation.  If I had had an unplanned pregnancy I would have done what was best for my baby, no matter what.  If I couldn't have supported myself before baby, I would have given a long, hard thought to if I could have supported myself with a baby.  

My point is this- it is simply not fair to rely on the generosity of strangers to provide for a baby you made because you couldn't keep your legs together, or protect yourself adequately.  It should be your responsibility to provide for that helpless bundle should you decide to bring it into the world, not someone else's.

(For the third time, I know, I'm being a tad judgemental...it is completely your choice whether or not you continue checking out my posts!  I can't guarantee I'll get any better!)

Fall is officially here in Red Deer.  Leaves are changing colour and falling from the branches, the air is cool and crisp and has that smell of burning that for some reason is almost addicting to me.  This is my all time favourite time of year.  From the colours to the smells to the fashion-yay for jeans, hoodies and boots- I just can't get enough.  If there was a place that existed where it was this way year long, I think I'd move there!  School has settled into routine for my girls and is something we all look forward to.  And in a few short weeks...HALLOWEEN!!

Mitch dragged out the three Rubbermaid bins from their appropriate home under the stairs and yesterday we dug through finding all the treasures forgotten about from last year.  Costumes, spiders, spooks, skeletons and a surprising amount of pumpkins and window clings.  I may need an intervention.  Even though we are barely through the first week of October, our house is ready for the big night!  Which got me to thinking about holidays in general and how things have changed since I was a kid.

When I was a kid...kids were allowed to dress up for Halloween in any costume they chose (excluding a full face mask at school, for actual rational reasons), they were allowed to call Halloween "Halloween" without anyone being offended.  Trick or Treating was done outside, door to door while wearing a variety of reflective safety decals and often without a parent (once we got to a certain age at least) and fun was had by all.

Now, in schools, you may dress up-but only in non offending, non scary costumes.  We call it "Dress Up Day" or "Black and Orange Day" (*gag*).  Trick or Treating is often done at the mall (a total nightmare!). There is also a new fad called Trunk or Treating, where parents pull into a parking lot and you go from car to car with your kids.  Are we not going a bit overboard with the safety and non offending terms?  (FYI-I am taking my girls to the Trunk or Treat thing but only because it is 2 days BEFORE Halloween, they'll reap the rewards of some extra candy...some of which I WILL eat...and we never really get any trick or treaters at our house.  We are NOT going because I want to ensure my children aren't over run by the demons in the night, my girls can hold their own!)

Christmas is a whole other topic so for now I won't touch on that one today (but stay tuned for that rant another day!) other than to say if they start calling it "Red and Green Day"  I might lose my mind.

I just can't wrap my mind around this whole 'we can't offend anyone' mindset Canadians seem to have adopted over the last 20 some years.  We are supposed to be a multi-cultural mosaic of a nation and we are getting so hung up on keeping everyone else's traditions intact that we are forgetting our own.  I am all in favour for someone celebrating what they want and only want the same respect in return.  Recently a situation came up at a certain board meeting I was a part of: we were discussing whether or not the kids would be allowed to wear their costumes to school.  "What about the children that don't celebrate this holiday?" someone asked.  "What about the children that do?"  I replied.

Growing up I lived next door to a family that was Jehovah's Witness.  Jessica was the same age as me and when there was holiday stuff at school (Valentines, Halloween, Christmas concert etc.) she either didn't participate and was given something else to work on or she didn't come to school that day.  Simple.  Right? To the best of my knowledge, her parents never made a stink about being the minority and never ruined everyone else's good time.  They stayed true to their beliefs and didn't infringe on anyone else's.

In the end, I guess all I can do is vent, regroup and play nice.  And for the record I refuse, RE-FUSE, to call it 'Black and Orange Day!'

I can't watch the news anymore.  I've even had to delete Facebook posts of my news feed because the brief description is too depressing.  All there seems to be is heartbreak, cruelty and despair.  I know I'm not alone in my feelings on this subject.  So why is it that we are being inundated with such sadness?  There is more out there than just people beating one another and animal abuse.  Where are the uplifting stories?  Where are the, dare I say it, happy endings?  Why are people so fascinated with this crap that just makes us all sad?  I know that there are people out there who, like me, have to refrain from watching and reading the news because we are emotionally affected in such a way that is not easily overcome. We feel the sadness deeply, almost physically and become trapped by it.  Somethings you just can't un-know.  It's hard for me to explain it, but it's a feeling I do not like having.  It's not that I want to pretend that these things aren't happening, but what is the point of seeing story after story about how terrible people out there can be?  There is nothing I can do to make a difference.  I feel sick about the things that happen to people I will never know.  So as a self preservation tactic I have cut myself off from the news.  I know the evils of the world haven't gone away, but I don't have to actively take part in knowing all the grisly details.  I don't want to know!  I don't want to take part, be informed or talk about it later.  I don't care if it makes me come off as weak, uncaring or naive.  I look at it this way:  is it necessary for my well being to read the story about the mom who microwaved her baby?  No?  (Then I will pass.  In case you are wondering, that is an actual story someone on my FB posted, I had to delete it.  Even typing those words makes me feel ill.  How are people so awful?)

That brings my rant to an end, for now.  And I will leave on this note:  I recently read an uplifting story, you may have seen it on FB too, about the lady that found a bottle with some sand, a dollar and a letter in it on her beach.  Curiosity getting the better of her, she opened the bottle to find that the 'sand' was actually the remains of someone.  The letter explained travelling was a passion of the dead mans, so his wife put some of his remains in the bottle with a letter asking for whoever found him to call her and let her know where he had been to, and these people-complete strangers-kept him going!  The money was to pay for the phone call, how considerate!Apparently this bottle had made it to many places, and people kept sending him back to sea.  What a nice story of human connectedness.  And kindness.

When I get angry I cry.  Not because I want to get my way at any cost, but because my emotions take over and spill out my eyeballs.  This is a totally involuntary reflex.  I've tried to conquer it in several ways-staring, blinking rapidly, staring up at the ceiling, holding my breath until I feel like passing out, tapping my foot, tapping my hand...nothing works!  It might sound childish but I seriously can't help myself.

The reason I bring this up is because I thought I'd be dealing with myself in this state this evening as I brought up the idea of a trip to Mitchell.  I told him months ago (yes, I told him and if you know my husband you'd likely understand why I didn't ask him) that after Hadley turns 1 we, the two of us, are getting on an air plane and going somewhere.  Alone.  We recently received an invite to my step sisters wedding in the Dominican in April.  7 nights, all inclusive...perfect timing.  It's not the alone time/get away/late honeymoon I had envisioned, but pretty close I guess.  Mitch is worried about the cost, and I totally get it, it's a fair bit of money to spend BUT in eleven years we have NEVER gone on a vacation like this.  Sure, we've gone on holidays all over the Kootenays that have been fantastic, we've gone on several camping excursions, plenty of family vacations but never a romantic getaway with just us.  We don't often go out on dates (another bone of contention) and often 'date night' is us with the kids eating at a family friendly restaurant.  I know I should be grateful, and I truly am, that I bagged the only man out there (at least I choose to believe it) that would rather spend time with his family than bugger off for a week of kid-free lounging on a beach.  I know how lucky I am to have scored that, and I also recognize that this whole rant makes me sound at least a little bit bratty, but Come On!  Eleven years!  I don't recall ever in the last decade trying to coerce him into a vacation that requires a passport.  I will say, I didn't get to the angry crying phase, probably because the kids were playing underfoot and Mitch was getting ready to go out.

At this point, you might be wondering where Mitch had to go....My friends, he went out to play pool with a friend.  Yes, he did...and I was encouraging of it (so what if it's partially because I have a cold and don't feel like doing anything other than watching Americas Next Top Model under a pile of blankets in the basement).  I can recognize the importance of going out once in a while to chill with a buddy.  Mitch considered staying in tonight in an effort to, wait for it, save money.  In the end, he called to invite another friend to tag along, but he was trapped taking his wife to the movies!  See, my love, other husbands take their wives out!

There are few things about my husband that bother me, but his fear of debt is an issue that rears it's ugly head every few  months.  I appreciate his concerns and value his vigilance to debt repayment, he has our best interest at heart (interest...did I pun!?).  I also feel very strongly that we can afford to treat ourselves to some much needed alone time every 10 or so years.  I feel it's important to the well being of our relationship to reconnect as a twosome so we, so I, can be better at being a partner and parent.  I need to just be me, not 'mom' every now and again.  I would like for my husband to understand that, even though he feels differently.

(I wrote this last night but wasn't sure I wanted to post it, but I figured why not.)