Wendy Can't Cook

Selling Yourself Short

2017-01-20T11:07:00.002-07:00

What does that phrase really mean? Has anyone ever said that to you? Are we allowed to follow up with a question about what it is we should be 'selling' to ourselves?

What is it exactly that one is expected to sell? Who do I need to impress? Who is the consumer here and why does anyone think I need to sell anything?

Is it a phrase intended to boost a person's personal view of themselves? Because unless it gets followed up by more specific details of what we should be selling ourselves, it is just another useless phrase of empty words.

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself,

you always sell yourself short."

If I tell my kids this, what does it mean? Absolutely nothing.

If I tell my child "Oh, don't be so hard on yourself, you have many talents to be proud of." and then follow up with examples, they will have a foundation to build upon in their own way.

Why do we fill ourselves with these empty phrases? I can't say that it even makes me feel better to say this to someone else. I've heard it so many times, though. To me, to others, everywhere.

Who says we ever have to 'sell' anything to anyone?

You Really Can't Go Home

2015-08-11T00:08:00.001-06:00

Not long ago it was brought to my attention that the house we lived in when I was born was up for sale. Curiosity set in almost instantly and my siblings and I started to discuss what it would be like to go see it. We decided to watch for an open house.

Tonight we had an opportunity to go and see the house by an appointment with a very kind and understanding real estate agent. He was very sweet.

I was about 6 or 7 years old when we moved out of that house, the same age that Angel is now. We moved because of divorce. As the youngest, I have very few memories of any marital stresses between my parents. I have only a limited recollection of the details of the split. I am fortunate, I know.

The interesting thing about this tour of my childhood home is the differences in perceptions that each of us children possess. Different things were important to each of us, different details stood out for each of us. One feature wall in the basement was removed, which did have quite an effect on all of us. There was a mock bay window, with a top lit picture of an Irish castle. It was beautiful and it is gone.

My sister, the oldest, has more memories of the difficulties that led to the divorce and, thus, had a much more emotional experience than I had. My brother found his name written in sloppy childhood hand on an upper beam in the garage. That was something amazing.

I love that house. I love the layout and design. The big back yard that seems so much bigger than I remembered it, but seemed smaller in comparison to my brother's memory. The Trucker even liked that house. He got a glimpse into my childhood as well. But, I know that I love what I thought it was, more than what it actually is.

It is unfortunate the way that memory works. I have had a fairly clear image of the floor plan almost all my life. But as memories are continual reconstructions, I'm quite certain that details from today will begin to merge with details from my history. Perhaps a little magic of my youth will be lost. There are many features that are still the same as they were, some a bit surprising. But the differences exist and will alter my future perceptions, because the memories for me are small and broken already.

Perhaps it is a curse to know that this will happen. Darn Psyc Major!!

Within minutes of leaving, Macboy was calling me. Angel was being difficult and I had to shift back into mom brain and deal with the behavior. The evening went fast, with a lot of fight. Angel had to call my bluff, I had to send her to bed way earlier than she's been going lately. I wasn't too happy. We had stormy weather, an eerie greenish glow in the sky which thankfully passed without event. The trucker went to bed, my mother got home.

I needed to process my thoughts. I have feelings of nostalgia, sadness, joy, gratitude and regret. So many, many more emotions after this kind of experience. One is tempted to consider the "What If's" in a situation like this, but even with all of the difficulties I have faced since we moved out of that house, I would not want it any other way.

Unfortunately, I was wearing the big neon sign on my forehead this evening that says "please disturb my peace and talk to me about random things". The text alternates with "please come in and turn on the TV, then walk away" and also "I didn't quite catch that the first 8 times you said it, please repeat it for me?"

Lucky for you, my inability to think clearly led me to write instead. And this post, completely unedited for your enjoyment (it's awkward and emotional, I don't want to reread it at the moment), is my attempt to settle my thoughts and make some sense of my emotions.

The house that I visited today was not my home. I felt a little disappointed that I didn't feel that immediate sense of 'home' that I sort of always expected to have if I ever went back there. I will convince myself that it is because of the changes that have been made, but the truth is more likely that it simply isn't my home. It was once, but it is no longer. It is a part of me, but now it can be someone else's new beginning. Even if I moved back into that house tomorrow, it would not be the same house. I am not the same person I was then. None of us are, not even my parents.

We moved out in the mid-eighties. The walls have been touched with many other hands since then. The floorboards have absorbed the histories of many other lives. The house is changed eternally, as am I. I would never say that it couldn't be my home again, just that it would never be the same home to me. Perhaps it would hold similar magic for my own children, but then again, they are all near or past the ages we were when we moved and it just might not.

I'm glad to have had the experience of going back there, and even more pleased that I was able to do it with my siblings who lived there with me. I can only imagine how they feel now, I hope it is still a positive fondness and not regret for them. I guess now I will have to go find the old photo albums and ensure that this visit doesn't distort my memories too much. In a small way, I think it may have been an opportunity I should have skipped.

I am grateful that there was a peaceful feeling inside the house. It was not a place of pain or tension for me. I have only good memories from that house.

Home really is found within each of us. Walls can contain it temporarily, but they do not possess it. Home moves with us, and there is nowhere to return to because we are already there.

Testing My Time Management Skills With Online Classes

2015-07-10T13:37:00.001-06:00

I have now completed year two of university. This year I pushed harder and took four classes per semester, as well as two additional 6 week long online classes in the spring semester. I discovered that I do not want to ever take online classes again, if I can avoid it at all. They were quite difficult in ways I didn't expect. I hadn't realized how much influence the physical presence of a professor can have. It is also more difficult to gauge their marking style or understand what exactly they are looking for in an assignment. As much as I may be introverted, I need people too. I learn best on my own sometimes, but there is so much that a professor brings to a class that you just can't get online.

The pace of the online classes was intense. I had deadlines every 3 or 4 days, even on weekends. Doing a single class might have been a lot more manageable, but I'm not that smart and I dive in head first. In order to balance the deadlines for two separate classes, I needed a good system. First I printed a blank calendar and wrote out due dates. Then I added family commitments or school functions. I didn't have a lot in May, June was crazy though. I looked at this calendar every single day.

Now, seeing when the Module items are due is only helpful if I have a way to keep track of what each module is. For instance, Module 1 did not have a chapter to read. Fortunately, none of the modules required more than one chapter. But keeping track of what has to be done for module 4, which might have been about chapter 7 doesn't help a lot. And you need to know the module numbers, because the assignment upload links or online quizzes are noted as the module number, not chapters or names. So, I made myself a chart for each class like this.

Angel always offers encouragement.

I used this, as you can see, as a quick glance place to track marks. Especially helpful when I was trying to calculate my grades before the final. I did have to add the due dates to this form later in the term, because it was getting confusing.

Additionally confusing, and further testing my organizational skills, was the naming structure for assignments. All documents that we submit were in this format MyName_M##. For both classes. So I had a Wendy_M04 for both classes. And yes, I did accidentally submit a Psyc assignment to my Soci prof. What a nightmare! I believe that was the point where my professor decided I was an idiot and marked my work much more critically after that. Even when I had a better mark, his comments were quite condescending after that point. To prevent a repeat of that horrible mistake, I made a habit of changing the file name as soon as I had finished submitting it. I had separate folders for each class, and just happened to click the wrong folder. When you only get one chance to submit, this is not a good thing. So, each time I finished an assignment and uploaded it, I went into the folder and changed it from Wendy_M04 to Wendy_psyc_M04. No more mistakes.

Online quizzes are quite a bit easier, and they are open book also. But you do have a time limit and some test bank questions can relate to really small details, so you really do have to do the reading if you want to do well. It is a much better plan to flip back through the book to double check something, than it is to try to find the answers for each question. I like online tests because feedback is instant, but the questions can be a lot more difficult than if the professor wrote them, or chose them.

My psyc final was written online at the exam facility. It was great to know my mark before I left, but I didn't do as well as I hoped and I definitely felt instantly defeated. Conversely, my soci exam was on paper and he was 5 days past the cutoff for grades when he finally posted them. And I also don't know what my mark on the exam was, just the final class grade. You win some, you lose some. Right?

The most important thing that got me through all of this for the last two months, without losing my mind, was continuous work. I didn't have any chances to hand things in early, but I only had one quiz that I had to scramble to complete on time through the whole semester. Every day, I checked my calendars, did a little work every chance I could.

I read text books while sitting and waiting at kids schools. I did assignments while everyone was out during the day, or after everyone went to bed. I made sure I told the family when I had something big coming up or if I was falling behind. Having my mother here was a great help, because she could do up dishes if I didn't get to them or, most often, switch my laundry for me because I was notorious for leaving things in the washer during these classes. I'm not sure why.

For cleaning and school work, consistently doing at least a little bit, every single day, was key to completing these courses. I finished with an A- and a B+. Still attending field trips and volunteered every morning for half an hour to switch the home reading books in Angel's class. I cooked dinner almost every night and we still ate at the table, all together, almost every single night. I did my best to protect my weekends. Sometimes it meant staying up late Friday to finish enough that I would be on track for Monday, just so that I had Saturday and Sunday open. But most often, Sunday ends up being a day for laundry and homework. It has been that way since I started university.

I would have to say that I think taking two short semester online classes was much more difficult than taking four regular semester classes. These were regular classes, crammed into only 6 weeks of classtime. Very intense and highly stressful.

Yes, it is hard. This adventure may very well be the hardest thing I have ever done, in so many ways. But really, it's not so hard that I would ever quit. I make smaller goals. Make the most of my time off. And I just DO what I have to DO. I'm not superwoman, I am just me. I am meeting the expectations I have placed upon myself. Isn't that what everyone does?

Staying Committed to School Through Tough times.

2015-04-09T12:59:00.000-06:00

I am finishing up my second year of study and this has been a big year for me. I increased my work load from 3 classes per term to 4 classes. I'm studying the second level French, which is difficult at times and requires a lot of consistent practice. And to top it off, I decided that I want to change my major from English to Psychology.

I fell into a confused and stressful state for a few months. I spent a lot of time researching my options, and also had to discuss the change with the Trucker. I will require more years of school with a psychology degree. I would be subjecting my family to this limited financial situation that we are in for a longer time. I would be spending more years with homework and classes that interfere with their lives. I faced a lot of fear, and a lot of guilt.

One of my best friends lost her child in December. It is a devastating loss for all of us, though I could never pretend to imagine her pain, or her husband's. I carry a lot of guilt for not being able to be as supportive as I would like. I focused so much on how I can't help them. I became filled with my own fears about my children. My mind became filled with "What-if's" and I was distracted. I also had to come to terms with lapses in our friendship. Times I should have spent with the little guy but didn't. All the ways our friendship could have been different. I was also filled with grief, and yet I didn't feel that I had a right to feel the pain from this loss. He wasn't my child. He wasn't around us a whole lot in his 9 years. He wasn't mine, it isn't my loss. I should not grieve this much.

But I was wrong.

I was there. Maybe not enough, but I WAS there. I got to spend part of last summer with him. I was there in the hospital when he was born, I was in that short list of people who got to hold him first. His mother is my unbiological sister. We have been friends since we were 11. He is a part of me. I do have a right to grieve. I have a right to love him. I have a right to hurt.

His parents have never placed judgement or blame on me, never acted as though I wasn't part of the family. Why do I do it to myself?

So I gave in.

I cried horribly when I found out. I was in their house as soon as I found out. I've done my best to be there for them. I held my friend through the funeral services. The worst funeral I have ever attended. I thought that I had processed this loss. At least to some degree.

But I hadn't.

A little more than 3 months passed before I realized how much this little man affected me. I finally stopped my judgments, claimed him as part of me, and truly cried for his loss. I will never be the same person that I was before he was born. And I will never be the same person now that he is gone. I recognize the powerful ways that he inspires me to be a better person. I recognize that some days just seeing his smile will bring me peace. I recognize that my grief doesn't interfere with the pain of his parents. In many ways, it may help them to know that their boy will never be forgotten. That he touched so many people. Even if that does bring pain for them occasionally, it is a blessing.

I gave in.

I cried the hardest for this little boy about 2 weeks ago.

I was stressed beyond my limits. I was falling behind on schoolwork. My grades were coming in lower than I know I am capable of. I couldn't keep up to home. I forgot things for my kids. We were late every day. I was cranky, sarcastic and snippy. Very moody. Very emotional. Very unstable.

We had a few of the kid's friends over. The house was loud. Everything was too bright. My clothes felt too tight. My socks were bothering my feet. The TV was on. Youtube was playing somewhere. I reached my sensory maximum. Half way through dinner, with the TV off and no electronics on, the giggles and conversation reached a peak in my mind. Then the doorbell rang, then the phone, and I completely shut down.

I left the table, locked myself in the bathroom with the lights off. Shut out all sensory input.

I moved slow for a few days. but during this time I started to figure out where my troubles were coming from. This is when I truly let myself grieve. I gave in to the need to face the loss. I found acceptance in myself. I gave in to the guilt of extending my schooling.

And I came out of it with a thankful heart. I am allowed to feel all of my feelings. I am not being completely selfish. I am trying to make a better life for myself and my whole family and I am trying to be a better person. I am trying to find the sunshine and laugh more, as my little friend would have (He laughed so fully and often).

I found that part of my reasons for wanting to change to psychology is to allow me to help others in ways I can't now. To be the person that I needed in my darkest days. To be the person my friends have needed before and certainly need now. I can help someone else to never have to hurt as I have.

It is all connected.

Once I embraced the truth of my own heart and mind, I was able to restore my efforts in school to the levels I had before. I can do this. I will do this. I have all the right reasons behind me. My exam marks immediately jumped back up to where they were because I corrected my study habits. I recovered my equilibrium.

I can feel my pain. I can cry my tears. I can carry that little boy with me everywhere I go. I can be happy. I can treasure my family. I can take all the mess and heartache and tears with me. I can let them out, and I can carry on. I can laugh. I can be thankful.

Life is short, and that is a terrifying concept.

Life is short, and never guaranteed.

Tomorrow is not promised.

So I will do my very best to reach for the stars every single day.

I am grateful for this chance to start over and change my life.

I am grateful for the people who support me, through all my fears and doubts and worries, through all the difficult financial situations we maneuver through.

I am grateful for the people who help me when my to-do lists get too long.

I am grateful that I get to hug my children every day.

I am grateful that I had such an amazing, inspiring boy in my life, though it certainly was not long enough.

I am grateful for today.

I am committed to the direction I have chosen and I will stay this way. I will keep working towards the goals. I can thrive through darkness. I can stay focused.

Stay strong, my friends. It is okay to be scared or have doubts in life. But you must keep moving forward. Always forward.

Every day counts.

Dear Teachers,

2015-03-04T17:06:00.001-07:00

I have great respect for teachers. They have many challenges to face day to day while instructing and caring for our children. They need to attempt to accommodate the needs of a several unique learners and provide a foundation of knowledge that these students will continue to use to some extent for the rest of their lives.

However, not all teachers are amazing and wonderful. Not all teachers care about the success or failure of their students. Not all teachers even comprehend the importance of a child's mental health with respect to learning.

I understand that you are not a group of psychologists, but in order to teach a child you should have some deep understanding of children. If you can't deal with small kids, don't teach in elementary schools. If you get tired of moody teenagers, don't teach them. You make the choice where you want to go, not the kids.

Frankly, if you have taught so long that you are jaded, quit. Allow teachers with a passion for sharing a love of learning to teach. If you don't really genuinely love children and everything that makes us who we become as adults, don't teach.

There is the saying that 'those who can't, teach' and I hate that saying. Some teachers project their own shortfalls into their lessons. Some recall such a rosy experience in primary and secondary school and don't actually understand the kids who have troubles during school years. As an adult, I have had very few conversations with people that actually enjoyed school entirely. Even those who did like school tend to have some period that they remember with sadness or regret.

I also understand that you have a curriculum to follow. You can not randomly choose what you teach our children, you must abide by laws. And those laws are becoming increasingly influenced by major corporations. I am frightened of the future of education. Legally required education that is formed by politics and businesses? Yikes. What kind of world are we creating?

So, you take your curriculum and you teach it in more than one way, that will appeal and make sense to a broader range of students. You must teach them to love learning, not to love your subject matter.

For example, my son has never enjoyed language arts (English). He carried a C average, doing just enough to scrape by from year to year. In grade seven, he encountered a teacher who actually found compelling ways to teach her literature. He has earned A's on many assignments with her. She is engaging, she is passionate and she is fun. She uses books and videos, and she encourages her students to find the parts that speak to them. She doesn't dictate subject matter for writing assignments. She gives a style and gives the class the chance to include their own interests. She is receptive to their input.

Another teacher follows the curriculum more closely, but has very clearly defined expectations. There are consequences for those who do not do their homework and her consequences NEVER change. There is no inequality in her classroom. It is easy to fit within these boundaries. Every child has the same rules and expectations, even in the cases where children have individual program plans in place.

Just today, I was confronted by statements or positions that disturb me greatly.

First is the teacher who says "he works below the level he is capable of and at this stage, he should not have to be reminded." At what age is it, exactly, that we suddenly become innately aware of what we are supposed to do? If my child meets the requirements, and is attaining A's in almost all of his classes, what is there to indicate that he should be doing more? Especially if you don't encourage more? How is a child, who gets A's on report cards, going to feel if you continually tell them they can do better? What is better? And then these same teachers wonder why they have some students struggling through perfectionist issues. Well, if an A isn't good enough, nothing will ever be.

Another, is a teacher who simply doesn't care if a student does any of his work or not. Today, I heard "well, he pushes me a bit on major assignments, but otherwise he never even notices what I'm doing." There are many problems in this classroom. We have a teacher who doesn't want to waste time on confrontation, or even risk a confrontation, so he doesn't push anyone. He only pushes on the assignments that affect the report card and it is increasingly becoming obvious to me that the report card grades are meaningless. They are only provided for the teacher to prove he can 'do his job.' And he is failing in my opinion. The students have no respect for the teacher, because the teacher doesn't have a backbone. He also doesn't follow up with parents. And if I contact him, he doesn't want to take the time to provide me with assignment details so that I can get my child to work on them at home.

In this day and age, we have so many technological ways to encourage and support our kids in their education. I get that some parents are not interested and do not take the time to communicate with teachers. But those of us who DO, should be taken seriously. And if the resources are there to stay in better communication with parents online, use them. As a university student, almost all of my class resources are easily available and even if I miss a class, I can get all the information I need. Many schools are striving to use online portals, but they are wasted efforts if teachers don't use them.

I am so frustrated and angry. Teaching should be a highly respectable profession. I agree that good teachers are not paid what they are worth, but I very much feel that many teachers are overpaid. I believe that education degrees are a little too simplified in an age of increasing inclusion. School boards are pushing all-inclusive access for students, but do not pay enough to compensate for the additional education that our teachers need in order to serve this wider range of children.

And of course, I hardly believe that the socialization we gain in school is anywhere near as important as society makes it out to be. We are perfectly capable of being "socialized" without being forced to endure hours and hours of institutionalized education. Without being subjected to peer pressures, abuse, bullies, drug addicts. And poor quality teachers.

With my three children, I can honestly say that there have been only 6 or 7 teachers who stand out or have made a difference for my kids. I have worked with (since I am a partner in my kid's educations) about 25 different teachers. I have also seen the difference in some teachers who have taught more than one of my children. Some kids are easier, built better for the public school environment. But one teacher can fail or succeed in many ways. One teacher can overlook or forget about the easy student, who then slips because no one cares. One teacher can misunderstand the special needs of another student. One teacher can see a label, where other teachers see a person.

Every single child matters. Every day.

So teachers, before you begin to hate me for judging you, remind yourself why you decided to teach. Be your best self, and care for all students in the best way you can. You wonderful teachers are cherished, but you are growing hard to find. Ignite your passion again, or consider changing your career. It is okay to change our minds. Stop before you become jaded. You are a huge part of our collective future.

Make a difference.

People Are Strange and Other Musings

2014-10-26T15:27:00.001-06:00

I'm going to start with a list today. There are some weird people in the world. Here's my top five for the week of strange things I've overheard.

1. "I don't like my child's daycare. They spend way too much time playing outside and my child's clothes get too dirty."

2. "Why are they wasting time repairing sidewalks? No one actually walks anymore except from their house to their car."

3. "I can't believe the prof only gave us three weeks for this assignment. Don't they know we have other classes too?"

4. "I'm so tired. I had a really stressful weekend. We drove to the mountains for a family vacation and got home late."

5. "I want to get up early on Saturday."

1. First, I strongly believe that kids are supposed to get dirty. It's in their natural job description. You shouldn't buy designer clothing for kids, that's really just insanity. Second, who on earth ever says that their kids spend too much time outdoors these days?

2. Just because YOU don't walk, doesn't mean that all people choose not to walk. I've seen a lot of foot traffic in our city and some of our sidewalks are in terrible condition. Even if you don't walk, pretty soon you will have to shovel snow off that mess. Wouldn't it be better if it was even?

3. The prof actually gave us a bit more than 3 weeks. We are writing a 5 page paper, not even in essay format, and he has provided most of the background research for us. Why can't that be done in three weeks? Additionally, the basics of the assignment were provided right from the beginning of the term. You should have known this was coming at some point.

4. Why do you expect sympathy because you chose to spend a weekend in a hotel in the mountains? If you have that much to do when you get home, don't go away spontaneously. This also came from one of those people who often complains about a lack of money and also about never being able to find time to do homework. They have only two classes this term too. I've got 4 classes, plus 3 kids, and had to take a sudden 13 hour drive, each way, to attend a memorial service. You don't know what stress is, lady.

5.This was Macboy, and I understand his logic. In some ways, I wish that I could actually do this too. He plans to wake up early on Saturday because everyone else will sleep late and he can enjoy some quiet time at the beginning of his day. It sounds wonderful really, but it doesn't actually happen often. For someone as anti-mornings as I am, it sounds crazy.

Enough about that. I suppose I pay attention too much to the people around me. It is frustrating how negative some people can be. It often makes it hard for me to find my positives. But they are there. The last few weeks have been very busy. My mind is full of negativity and so many things I'd love to rant about but I'm not going to reduce myself to that level. Instead, I will highlight the positives of my personal situation and be proud of the good things that came out of this stressful period.

I'm up to date on homework and assignments. Some days it feels like all I do is homework, but I do what I need to do to succeed in a way that suits my own expectations. I want to do well and I will do whatever it takes.

My kids are doing well in school too. They are such strong readers. Even the oldest, who has his own set of difficulties is blossoming and succeeding this year. He is becoming a fascinating young man and really coming out of his shell. I am confident that he will not lack the self esteem or knowledge to succeed later in life after all that he has overcome.

We brought back Wednesday Without Electronics this week. It was the trucker who suggested it, too. Wednesday was a very fun day here. The kids adjusted without any complaints into a quiet and unplugged evening. The three of them played together almost the entire night. Thursday morning was a breeze because everyone was well rested. Well, except that someone hid the TV remote so that the others couldn't use it and that led to at least an hour of ripping apart the living room trying to find it again. Oops.

I met a whole new bunch of in-laws last weekend. Our families are quite spread out and it is difficult to see everyone. Our trip to the coast was nice though. After being together nearly 20 years it seems strange that we haven't met each others families entirely. There are just too many people to see and not enough time to travel there and see them all. I'm pleased that I still feel like a full part of the Truckers family, even when I'm surrounded by people I've never met. It was like I had always known them.

I am getting strong enough now to recognize when I'm reaching my extroversion limits. I require certain amounts of time alone to recover/recharge after extended periods of being around people. Particularly these situations where I must be the extroverted self to visit with family members that I've never met. In addition, there was an exceptional amount of time spent in close proximity to the trucker, in the van for so many, many hours of driving. I love him dearly, and our time was very therapeutic, but it definitely left no room to be alone with my thoughts. Early this week, I was able to identify that I was struggling and stopped it before it progressed beyond control. I told the Trucker what I needed and he helped me find some time to myself. I was able to skate through this time, without a crash.

I feel strong and in control. I'm feeling quite accomplished also, even though the only accomplishment was catching back up to regular life. Not long ago, it would have likely taken months to get back to where I am right now after just a bit more than a week.

I am positive. I am strong. I am focused. I am determined. I am motivated. I am loved.

And I am saying those things as much for myself as I am for any who might read this. Take a moment and tell yourself these same things. It will pick you up a little so you can continue to do all those things you have to do. Repeat it as often as necessary. Change the words as you see fit to cover your own needs. Be your own sunshine. It's worth it.

End Of Summer, Updates and Thoughts

2014-08-22T18:32:00.003-06:00

I am so excited for September. This is a very unusual feeling since I normally hate the enforced structure on everyone and the morning rush. I am not a fan of mornings. I get to start my second year at university and I'm thrilled. With a short schedule last year that had to fit in the morning kindergarten program hours, I almost feel like I haven't really even started and that this fall is the beginning of the real deal.

I've had an eventful summer. It was incredible. Excellent family vacation and lots of stay-in-your-PJs-all-day days. I also had an eye opening experience through babysitting a boy with special needs. I do have my own version of special needs here, but this was so different. My children have invisible issues, like Tourette's and social anxiety. But this summer I had the experience of being a caregiver for a child with very visible difficulties. Frankly, people are jerks. I hope to share more of that story but it needs to wait for a different time, as I try to decide exactly how to explain what I saw and felt taking this little amazing miracle boy to the park.

Yesterday was my last day with him. In many ways I feel that my summer is just starting. I only had him for 15 days but it really did change my summer. I now have an abundance of free time until September starts. Of course, that's not very far away now.

I'm searching for the ideal agenda/organizer again, and I will likely return to my hand written calendar that I used last year. I just know that I need to keep everything posted in one place and what I had last year worked great. I just need to set it up a bit better so I don't have to re-write everything a million times.

I've got all our school supplies ready. For all four of us. I need to find myself a new school bag but everyone else is covered. I have kept up to regular life for the majority of the summer months too, so I don't have a lot of scrambling and cleaning to do before the school workload hits. I'm prepared and very ready mentally for school to start.

My only regret of the summer is the lapse in my writing. I had a short burst where I poured out thousands of words in two works in progress and I felt amazing. Then the physical exhaustion of babysitting hit me and I stopped a lot of things. I read non stop, because it was the least physical thing I could do to keep myself surrounded by words. By time I return to school I will have finished about 25 books running from Shakespeare plays to YA fiction. Now, I'm fueled up and ready to write for days, but of course those days are now numbered. Perhaps my dream of "I published my first novel while I was in University," just won't work for me.

It takes a shift in perspective to pull me through these thoughts. I do hope to be published eventually, but the plain reality is that if I don't write, I will go slowly crazy. Crazier, at least. These stories scream from the back of my mind at all the wrong times and I get frustrated when I can't let them out. The characters are like pieces of me that are trapped and I can't find peace of my own anywhere until I release their words. So, rather than dreaming of future publication, I am just enjoying the art of the writing itself. I write for me. I hope that it finds other readers someday, but the beginnings are just for me. I must get it out before I can edit or change anything for anyone else. And the act of writing, preferably with a simple pen and paper, is so therapeutic for me that I have got to start making time for it every day.

My two works in progress are very different and I do not struggle with keeping storylines straight or characters in the right places. One is very much YA and the other is definitely women's fiction. My mood dictates the story that gets the attention, and I enjoy having the chance to switch gears when one story starts to stall or suffer. It keeps my creativity flowing. At this point both stories are pretty much crap, but they are started and that is more important to me anyway. I suppose that is how the writing process works and even after a million edits I will still feel that they are crap.

With my new schedule for school, I actually have a little window in the day where I may be able to place a writing routine. Of course that depends on my homework load. I remain optimistic and will make something work.

I've been very torn about whether or not to continue this blog, I've mentioned that before. For now, I will just keep it as it is, no promises of posts or schedule for writing. I will write when I can, if I have something worth sharing or something to work out in my own mind again. My other writing does take priority, if I have to make a choice. I didn't create this for money or for followers. I am already amazed by the number of you that are here and come back regularly. Your best bet for slightly more regular updates is to join me on facebook anyway.

I hope that everyone is ready for fall and that the return to school is smooth for all of us. Are you looking forward to September too?

Fifteen Days Until The Kids Are Out

2014-06-06T13:49:00.000-06:00

I am not taking any spring or summer session classes this year. I considered it but it just didn't work out with my schedule. The kids are still in school until the end of June and I was looking forward to two months of mornings to myself.

It's kind of nice on the occasional day that I've been able to just relax. But most days, I don't really seem to have any time to myself anyway. After I do my volunteer tasks in kindergarten, I don't have much of a morning left. I had great plans to reorganize all kinds of things in the house and most of them have been left untouched. I've scraped through a few big jobs but not nearly as much as I had hoped for. Eight months of slacking on the homefront has left me a little overwhelmed. So many stash and dash places are overflowing.

I miss my classes quite a lot. I had direction provided to my days through various professors. I had a reading list given to me and didn't have to search out my own materials. I can always find things to read but the assigned readings generally make me extend myself. I read things that I might not have chosen on my own. I often find myself bored now and this is not a common occurrence for me.

I am normally busy, looking after my kids and their schools, making dinners, tidying toys. Usual stuff. I read. I volunteer. It has been exceptionally nice to be able to attend a field trip or two. I miss that while my classes are running. My first semester was hard. It was very difficult to develop a decent groove that allowed me to get assignments and studying done on top of everything that is normal. Second semester was incredible. I felt so totally in control most of the time.

And now, I have time that is not so full. My daily life is comparable to carrying money. When you have a hundred dollar bill, it lasts longer than if you have a hand full of twenties or smaller bills. Things just get spent little by little. With the multiple stops I make each day, I am interrupted from many things. My mornings result in an hour, two on the best days, of time to devote to other projects. Kindergarten ends, then Art comes home for lunch, then the afternoon with Angel until Macboy is done, 40 minutes until Art is out. My day is full of stops and starts, so it is hard to really accomplish anything bigger.

I have been reading and writing so much, especially these last few weeks. Something about reading John Green novels sparks a wildfire of creativity in me and the words just flow as though they never were mine to begin with. The story is just pouring itself from my brain to the page. I love this feeling, it is the closest thing to escape I can ever manage. The rest of me just drifts away and I am nothing more than a vessel for the story to be written. My mind doesn't wander. I don't think of anything that needs to be done. Stress triggers drift away. For the time that I have devoted to the writing, Wendy ceases to exist. I drift into the character and his story is my own. I become him. I become his voice and write his words. I can feel his feelings and think his thoughts, not because I am creating them but because they are from him.

I don't always feel this connection in my writing. I do sometimes have to place myself into the mind of another, I have to craft their thoughts and expressions. But sometimes, the best times, it just comes so naturally. It is not a desire to create a story but the need to release a story that exists already.

I have never felt so successful with my writing. I have never lived the flow quite like this. I know the direction the tale will follow. I do know the future of my character, but it seems most like he his telling me how he got there instead of myself having to brainstorm anything.

If it were not for this writing frenzy that has caught me, I would be going slowly insane. I hope that this lasts at least until the kids are out of school. Once they get out for the summer, I know that my schedule will change again. I am sure that I will be missing classes then too, as I really don't get a break away from the kids at all in the summer.

University has absolutely nothing to do with socializing and friends for me, it is entirely for myself. I pursue subjects that I love, that I choose. I exercise my mind and learn so much. Oh, how I love learning new things. I don't always love doing stuff with things that I learn, but I LOVE the process of understanding things that I didn't before. Or understanding something in a totally different way than I had ever thought of it. This is what I am missing the most. Discovery. Accomplishment. Pride. I like to have my house clean, but it is not the same kind of pride I get from a good mark on an essay.

Being graded on everything is hard for some people. But I don't strive for good grades to please a teacher or anything else. Each A that I've earned tells me not only that I understand what they have taught me, but also that I can explain it in a way that another understands. It's the achievement of communication. And as being a writer is the strongest drive within my soul, mastering these milestones of communication are very important to me. I miss that. I miss those benchmarks and reminders. Even if a grade is lower than I hope for, I spend the time reviewing my words so that I can say it better next time.

I know the summer will drift by so fast, especially once the kids are home all day with me. I'm grateful to have this time. This is an opportunity I've never been able to have before. I also know that when September rolls back around, I will be ready for it.

Being A Mom In University - My Brief Thoughts

2014-05-23T10:34:00.003-06:00

I have been away from this blog for quite awhile. I'm sorry. I was fueled with all these great ideas that I wanted to share. I have a long list of post ideas floating around the house and in my head. But, I'm afraid to admit that I will probably never write many of them.

In a nutshell, the best way to survive a return to school when you have kids and a husband is to just do what you have to do. Balance as much as you can without draining yourself dry. Spend time playing with the kids. Sit down for dinner as a family. There are no secrets. If you want something bad enough, you make time for it. I became very selfish with my time. I do not tolerate demands of others, I will choose what I need to do and when.

I did homework and readings when I could. Sometimes waiting in the car at the end of the kid's school day. I'd read while I was cooking dinner. I carried a notebook everywhere and also switched to a windows phone that syncs better with my MS Office suite. I worked beside the kids as they did their homework. I waited until everyone was in bed and then started my work some nights.

The key to my success was to never allow procrastination in. If an essay project is going to take me 8-12 hours of work before I think it is worthy of handing in, I must be realistic. I can not ever leave it to the last minute. I will never get 2 hours straight of work time, forget 8 or more! I just reminded myself as I worked after the kids were in bed and I was already exhausted, that the assignment would end. The semester will end. Eventually I will have time to catch up to sleep and housework.

School work and family were my shared number 1 priorities.

If you are a in university, success is possible. You show up. You take notes like a madman. You study. There is time. There is always time for something you really want. So do it.

A whole year of university and that's my advice. Just shut up and do it. One day at a time, you just push through. Some days will be really hard. Some will be painful. Some days you will cry like a baby and wonder why you ever thought this was a good idea. But following your heart and doing something you love are always going to be the good idea.

My mantra throughout my first year was "It's only one day." No matter what needed to be done, it was only one day and would be totally different tomorrow.

There were days when I got up at 5 am to drive the trucker to his truck, came home, did some reading, got kids up and all of us off to school, rushed back, spent half an hour in the kindergarten classroom, squeezed errands and appointments into the afternoon, emailing back and forth with a teacher about some child related problem as I went. Then I'd get the boys picked up, two different schools half an hour apart. Get home, put away laundry or clean something up, make dinner, clean up dinner, get through a bath and two showers, bedtime stories and good nights... Take a run to the store because I forgot something, usually milk which is needed for breakfasts and COFFEE. Then, maybe around 10 pm, I could stop moving for a minute.

I could sit down, assess what I had left to do and decide. If I miss one day of study time, what will it affect? Do I have something due tomorrow? No? Okay. It's only one day. I can make up one day easily.

And then the tricky part... Actually picking up the school work slack the next day.

Sometimes I couldn't. Sometimes the whole week was insane like that. I'd be so exhausted and have a longer list of things to catch up. The trucker suggested I take my books and go out somewhere, which I did try. But honestly, I'm better at ignoring the distractions at home. I could not focus in a coffee shop, or anywhere else really. So we switched it up. On some weekends, when I was struggling, he took the kids out instead. I got the house to myself. Had quiet time to focus and also no chance of forgetting something I needed because it was all here. It is amazing what one can accomplish in two hours with no interruptions. And I used that time. It's tempting to just go have a bath or something, when you know that no one can knock or try to come in. But you have to USE the time you have.

There is no way to plan how you will adapt to a change like this. Trust that if you want it bad enough you will find the strength to make it work. It is just how it is.

I don't find this to be that hard, really. It sucks sometimes, but everything in life sucks sometimes. There are bad days for sure. I believe I have a strong advantage over the kids that fill the other seats in the classrooms. I know what I want. I know where I'm going. I know what it is all for. And though I have a family to take care of in the background, this university experience is so much easier for me than it is for most of them.

You know the fear that you had when you were pregnant? That 'how am I ever going to manage this' fear? Or, how about when you had a second or third (or more) child? You wonder how you will ever keep up to another baby too. Then the baby comes and somehow, almost magically, you find that life is still the same, just a bit busier maybe. University was the same for me. Life doesn't change, it just gets busy. It will only ever be as hard as you think it is. And even when a day is hard, it's only one day. Tomorrow will be different.

There you have it. A long pause between posts and then I finally write something, only to share that of all the advice I wanted to be able to share boils down to no advice at all.

__________________________

I am starting to think that the end is near for Wendy Can't Cook. I either need a change of direction, or perhaps a change in medium. I'm not sure. I make no promises at all. I found a desperate need to focus on priorities while in school and as much as writing maintains my sanity, blogging is not the only way to write. I've been through some very personal changes that I do not wish to make public. And I rarely have time to sit and write a blog post even without any edits. I do not aim to make a living out of blogging, I share here because it feels good to share sometimes. Much like reading for pleasure is out of the question while I'm in school, blogging is not high on my list of priorities. Somehow, my little following here continues to grow even when I'm not active and I am grateful for those who do come by and read any of my words.

In essence, blogging is somewhat a distraction from where I really want to be going. I may need to let it go to make room for bigger and better things. I miss it when I'm not here, but I need my family time more. I am sure that you will understand. My facebook page is often more active than the actual blog, so feel free to join me there.

Take care my friends.

I Love Tuesday

2014-02-25T14:38:00.001-07:00

I do, I really do. I love Friday too because it starts the weekend, of course, but I just really love Tuesday.

Tuesday is a good news kind of day. I seem to find the most positive messages on Tuesday. Maybe it's only because I am happy and notice them more, but who cares.

Tuesday is less rushed than most days, Thursday is a later start for me too, but the kids get early dismissals and make the afternoon more rushed and busy.

Tuesday starts with a fun radio session they call Dirty Text Tuesday. My drive to school is filled with a conversation of messages that sound dirty but really aren't. They choose a random topic and have listeners text in or post online. Some of the responses are really fun.

My Tuesday morning class is awesome. I'm not a fan of Anthropology as a whole, but the professor makes it great. She can take this information that is dry and not even remotely of interest to me personally and make it entertaining. I'm doing well in the course and I know that it is because of how she teaches. There are always many laughs in that class.

Tuesday is the day I seem to hit more green lights on my drive.

I find a closer parking stall at the university on Tuesday.

The kids are in a good mood on Tuesdays. They are not yet exhausted from the week at school and our routines run more smoothly. Monday is like the practice run for Tuesday every week. Monday sucks for all of us.

Tuesday doesn't usually bring large amounts of homework. I can manage my week well. Most assignments have been due for either Monday or Friday. Even midterms have been either Monday, Thursday or Friday.

Tuesday is not a busy home management day. I usually have laundry and general clean up done over the weekend. By Tuesday, everyone still has clean clothes and the house is not trashed yet.

My mail comes in earlier on Tuesday. We currently don't have a specific mail carrier in my neighbourhood, just an assortment of those who can fill this route. Whoever brings it on Tuesday is almost always earlier than the rest. Not that I need a lot from that comes in the mail, but it's nice to have it dealt with early in the day.

Generally, the Trucker doesn't have to work too late on Tuesdays. Of course, now that I've said that it will have to change. His boss is semi-psychic, I think. He knows when I'm getting too comfortable and makes sure to change things up.

Tuesday was never my favorite before. I think I depended on the lure of lazy Saturday mornings and the lack of a need for an alarm clock. Honestly, I think the most I've ever even thought about what day it even is, was to point out that Monday sucks and Friday starts the weekend.

The best part of Tuesday is that it tends to bring me up in spirits and I can carry that through the week. Even if Monday were to leave me feeling defeated or exhausted, I recover on Tuesday. That's not such a long way to the weekend either. In my teens and even the twenties, I probably chose a preferred day based on some TV show I was addicted to watching, but I don't even have that any more. I really don't watch TV. I watch the rest of the house watch TV, sometimes I am sitting with them, but the TV doesn't really ever capture my attention that closely.

I can even book things like doctors appointments or pay a bunch of bills, fill my afternoon with errands, and it still stays awesome. The mornings just set the tone in the right direction and I float through the rest of the day.

Do you have a favorite day? What do you look forward to each week?

Smarter Than My Smart Phone

2014-02-10T15:02:00.000-07:00

On January 31st, I cracked. The whole week was hard. And rushed. And miserable in so many ways. I was running late. The kids were all late to school. I was set up to be at least ten minutes late for my first class.

I had the beginning signs of high anxiety creeping up on me. My heart was racing, my thoughts rushing and my breathing speeding up. I couldn't take it. I couldn't slow it down. I knew that it really wasn't the end of the world if I was late. I've discussed my personal situation with a very understanding professor. I knew he wouldn't be upset if I was late.

But I couldn't stop the racing.

I turned the van in the opposite direction. Headed to a coffee shop with my books. I tried to focus on what was causing my problems. I went through the long mental list of all the things the kids were doing in the morning that drove me insane. I considered all the reasons why we are regularly rushing. The Trucker says "you just need to wake up earlier." HA. Yeah. That doesn't apply with my own completely inability to actually follow through in a plan to get up earlier. I just couldn't understand it. I get up at 7. I don't do my hair or makeup, I just pull my hair back in a pony tail or clip. I should have enough time.

The kids are so hard to wake up. That has to be it. I need to crack down on bedtime.... Well, no. They actually have been pretty good at bedtime. I can't seem to get the younger two moving until 8. Why? Where does this whole hour go?

I sat there, frustrated at this particular point. I'm getting up earlier, why does it take so much to get them up?

I reached for my phone. I decided a short break from thinking so hard was in order. I opened the Facebook app. Stared at it for a minute. Closed it. Opened Candy Crush, maybe just one level...

Then I closed that app too. This is the moment where it all came crashing down. I figured out the root of my issue.

I opened up my notebook and started to write. It was that soul cleansing outpouring of words that happens every so often. A moment where the pen starts moving and I have to read it all again when I'm done because I have no idea what just poured out. Here is what I scribbled (seriously, I can barely read my own writing.):

Today I change my life.

For one month, just February, I am taking all of my usual distractions off of my phone. If it's all for no real reason, I will know very soon. But this thing is taking time away from what is important.

I read it like a morning newspaper before I get out of bed. I end up rushing because I am looking at things that are not important. These things can set the tone of my day. These things can put me in a sour mood before my feet even hit the floor. It's not worth that.

I look over the top of it and see my daughter's lonely face. I told her that I needed to finish my school reading first and now, she's waiting for her turn to be important.

I look past it and see the Trucker roll his eyes. I say that I am playing this game because he is watching TV and ignoring me anyway, but what if he is watching TV because I'm not paying attention?

It takes time away from school work.

It interrupts bedtime snuggles and stories, at the very least it delays it.

I can't count how many times I've said "Just a minute." or how often the boys get in the van afterschool and start talking, and I'm trying to finish a level, or enter a comment, before we drive home. Then the drive home is silent, because I have squashed the words they were saying when they got in.

I want more.
I want more eye contact.
I want more Hello's and Goodbyes.
I want more kisses at the door.
I just want more LIFE and I'm taking it.
I'm taking it back.
IT IS MINE. MY life.

Since I have deleted my distractions from my phone, I've had an amazing amount of time returned to me.

I'm astounded (and saddened) by the length of battery life my phone has now. I am also feeling the same about the number of times I find myself reaching for my phone only to stop and remember that there is no reason to. It's getting better, but it's still a lot.

I have had amazing conversations with my family.
I have had a lot of focused study time.
I have enjoyed a break from a lot of drama.
I have had smooth running mornings and no fights with kids because we need to rush.
I have slept really well, because I'm not staying up saying 'just one more level,' or 'I'll just see if someone posted something, I'll be quick.'

I haven't played any of the games I was hooked on, even though I can access them on the laptop. I just don't have the desire to do it.

I am still a Facebook user, but instead of being a constant checker and connected through never-ending notifications, I log in just once or twice through the day. When I do, I do not have the desire to try to scroll through all of the missed time either. I check notifications, pop in to the groups I am involved in. Sometimes, I don't even look at the newsfeed at all.

I keep my phone in my purse or pocket while I am in the van. I make eye contact and conversation with the kids when they get in now. I am waiting for them. They are not waiting for me.

I get out of bed and start the day on my terms. By the time I look at any of these online distractions, I've usually finished the majority of my day.

I hate to admit that the problem was me. Who ever wants to say that? But it certainly was. I wake up at the same time everyday as I did before. But instead of rolling over to look at the smartphone, I get up. I get my coffee made. I crawl in beside the Angel and snuggle up. She wakes up with a smile and a big hug for me. There is no struggle to get her out of bed; she wakes up loved and happy. I go into Art's room and sit on the edge of his bed. I rub his back in small circles for a minute or two, he wakes up with a sleepy "Good Morning, Mom."
Mr. Macboy, He gets himself up these days. He is often up before me. But I greet him every morning and take a minute to ask how he slept.

I will say that the phone helped my transition to wakefulness in the morning. It was a small step on the road to resetting my body clock. At the very least, I was staying awake and not just fighting with the snooze button. For months, I was waking up nice and early and staying awake. But I'd stay in bed where it was warm and cozy for as long as I possibly could. The first few mornings without the distractions were not exactly easy, but I was able to convince myself that if I just got up and made my coffee, I could crawl back in bed and warm up for a minute. Of course, once my feet were on the ground, I didn't go back to bed.

The benefits so far, just ten days in, are real. I am confident that I will not have any trouble getting to the end of February. I am at peace.

As Ready As I Can Be

2014-01-03T23:30:00.002-07:00

An interesting thing happened today. I was feeling like I'd kind of wasted some of my time off. I had a few things I wanted to deal with at home and a few things got done. I felt like I should be doing something more, though I couldn't figure out exactly what. And I had absolutely no motivation to look for it.

It's not really a bad thing. I spent a large portion of my holidays taking care of important things. Like playing. Or reading. Or just listening to the kids. I spent a bit of my time on my marriage, some quality time with the Trucker. All good things of course.

I read a novel. The last installment in a series I loved. I read more of a text that I'd started in my Lit class. Reading was actually on my goal list. I love it and I miss reading for pleasure when classes are running. I may be the one who takes "reading week" a little too seriously and spends all their time with their nose in a book.

I've been writing more too. See, these kinds of things would never appear on a to do list and I think that's why I was so upset this morning. (Well, not that upset except when my coffee cup was empty.)

I headed in to Art's room this afternoon. He started cleaning yesterday and needed some help with organization of the things that he wanted to keep in there. (Like the Trucker's new tool box that was a Christmas gift and is now slotted for their remote control cars, tools and parts, and will never make it to the garage where it was intended to go.) It didn't take very long, because Art actually keeps himself pretty well organized. He sure doesn't get that from me.

At five o'clock, I was trying to decide what I was cooking for dinner. The Trucker was on his way home. I was standing in the kitchen when it hit me.

I am actually ready.

I can't honestly tell you the last time the house has been in this kind of order. And I felt like I wasn't getting anything done at all. So How Did That Happen? My room has been picked over and reorganized, even went through my clothing and added to the donate bags. ALL THREE KIDS have clean rooms. I know where all the lunch bags are, and backpacks. I have the school library books ready, not lost. I am caught up to my laundry, it is even put away. I have my text books ready and my binders prepared. I will not be freaking out at 11 pm on Sunday night because I can't find anything.

And I didn't even see it happen.

It seems to me that:

When you really make an effort to be present

To be in the moment

To pay attention

To do the little things

To use the help you are given

To find the silver linings

To smile and laugh more

Things start to just happen.

You are doing it,

No different than you did it before

But you are not seeing it the same way.

It doesn't actually seem like work.

I enjoyed my holiday. I had fun. I relaxed. I spent time with family. I worked in small doses. When I stopped and looked at the things that DID get done, I barely remember doing some of it. I guess I have caught up enough to the flow of crap in the house, and taught the kids a bit better about not keeping things that break or giving away things we no longer use.

Really, the only thing I remember 'working' on was Angel's room. She was long overdue for an overhaul. I'm not really sure when all the rest of it happened. Macboy did a great job of his room on his own and didn't need any help. Mom folded and put away one basket of my clean laundry for the kids.

I will even admit that I sent a text message to my family to say:

"Holy crap, all the kids rooms are clean, and mine, and the laundry is caught up....

ALL ON THE SAME DAY!!!

This has probably never happened before and may never happen again,

so maybe we should take a picture!"

I can start classes this term on even ground. I am not starting out behind. I feel great. Just when you think that doing a little job won't matter, it surprises you by adding up. When you think that you don't have time to build a puzzle or listen to a nine year tell a highly exaggerated story, do it anyway. It will pick your spirits up in a way that nothing else can, and then things just start to happen. And you don't feel the 'work' of it, you just feel good.

My Wish For 2014 - Focus

2013-12-31T14:25:00.000-07:00

2013 was an amazing year for me. I can't think of a lot that I might want to change in the new year. I worked hard to maintain balance between my family and my personal commitments. I began actively working on reaching my dreams, instead of just dreaming. I would like to write more, but that is something that suffers only for the benefit of my schooling and my family. I would love to write everyday, but I'd also love to play or read with my kids when I'm not doing my homework.

I worked on improving communication, not just in my marriage but everywhere. I worked on letting go of things that don't matter. I worked on putting more quality into my family time instead of just time.

Most days, I feel like I am living a dream.

Instead of trying to make up some specific resolution, I just need to continue with the big changes I'm already making. I suppose I could resolve to maintain my focus. To pay attention and be proud when I'm getting things right. To pay attention and learn when I'm getting things wrong. I have been on a positive path, and I need to make sure I stay on it.

I've never really been a resolution person anyway. I am definitely the kind of person who will maybe say I want to do something, but it's never really something I want that bad.

Focus is attainable. It is flexible. Just pay attention. Watch the kids play. Play with them. Listen to the little stories. Know what they like and offer options when I need time to work on something else.

Focus on my marriage. I know that I need to pay attention to it. The kids are getting older and I am reminded often that they won't be with me forever. I need the Trucker to know that I want to be with him when they are gone too.

Focus wide, not narrowly.

Focus on what makes my heart feel full. What makes me smile.

Focus on giggles.

Focus on the big picture. Meeting my goals.

I know it won't be hard. Well, no harder than everything else I'm doing. It won't be hard because I already do this every single day. I wake up and want to be MORE. I want to feel MORE. I am not sitting here beating myself up over yesterday if I didn't get it just right. I am reminding myself that everyday is new. I have another chance to try again, try a different angle. Just keep trying.

University is really helping me live one day at a time. While I am working several years on a long project for the benefit of my whole family, I can not look too far beyond today. I can't say how many times I told someone "That's okay, it's only one day." Tomorrow offers a new chance again.

It is far better to make steady, continuous changes to improve my life than it is to make a short lived resolution at new years. Our problems or worries don't magically change on one day, so why try to force a solution on one specific day?

I want to thank those of you who follow my little corner of the world on this blog. I am still simply amazed that anyone read my words in the first place! And that so many actually come back and read again makes my heart happy. I'm glad to share, I have to get things out of my head or I go crazy. I hope that you have found something useful and relevant to your life somewhere along the way.

I thank all of you who have shared my words. Those who join me on my facebook page and those who visit me on Twitter. Please feel free to share your thoughts anytime with me. That is what the comments area and social media accounts are for! I would love to know more about you. I appreciate that I am not forgotten, even when there might be months between blog posts!

I wish you all the very best in the new year, keep chasing those dreams!

The Calendar System For My Family

2013-12-26T23:26:00.000-07:00

I am a bit of an agenda nerd. Ok, a lot of nerd. I'm kind of obsessed with my calendar and I never find anything that works well for us.

We used to use Cozi, and I loved it when I had an android phone with a widget that kept it in front of my face. When I switched to the iPhone, it became a pain. I never opened the app and sometimes the notifications didn't work the way I wanted. And looking at the calendar wasn't as easy, even with color coding the family members.

I like my iPhone calendar, and I sync it with my google account usually, but putting things there doesn't share it with the rest of the family. I have a lot of notifications and I customized it well. Some things have alerts, some don't really need alerts and I have it set just the way I need it.

But then the kids have plans of their own, or the Trucker makes plans and doesn't know what I have already. Or, of course, there are those days where the Trucker says something like "What the F### did you do all day?" I could pass him my phone but then he'd use up all my lives in whatever game I'm addicted to at the moment. Haha. No thank you!

I needed everything in one place.

A big wall calendar is helpful, but I need a lot of space to keep everything there. I searched and searched but there was just nothing that had enough space so I started this.

At first it was just a one week thing, one page that I kept in a page protector and wrote on with a dry erase marker. That was okay, but I have a lot of things to add to weeks ahead at times. So I just made a stack of these pages and kept them together on the fridge. No more dry erase. I have space for each of us and, though the picture above is not an accurate week here, the page gets pretty full. I don't keep these after the week is done, I just toss it in the recycle bag and move along.

In the beginning I had only Monday to Friday on the page. Those are my busy days, but within a few short weeks the Trucker and I were running into weekend conflicts. I always have one cleaning and laundry day on the weekend, and one day for plans that take us out of the house. So I didn't really need space for two days. Just one place to put the major weekend events and I write what day the plans are for. My week always starts with Monday and the weekend is just that, the end of the week. We've had a few hiccups, but nothing major with this set up.

Angel loves this set up too. She likes to see her name on the calendar and often adds her own appointments. The main reason I couldn't post an actual calendar week from our house is because by the end of the week, my whole page looks something like this:

She's a very busy girl!!

I write down everything. I write my class schedules and assignments on here. I have specific times for everything so that if I got hung up somewhere and I needed Grandma to pick up a child for me from school, she can look and see who gets out at what time. If we need a sitter, it is written down. If there is a hot lunch event at school, I write down the due date for the form, then the day of the lunch, what it is (eg. Subway) and that it was paid for. If we don't order, I write down "Hot Lunch - Not Ordered" and I know that Art needs to come home that day.

I copy my syllabus here, so I have an idea of what needs to be read for which class by what day. I write down appointments or play dates. I write down EVERYTHING. If I have to arrange a babysitter, I write down who is coming as soon as it is confirmed.

This planner has saved me so much stress. I still add most of this to my phone calendar because I want to have it with me, but this takes a load off my shoulders when it comes to sharing with everyone else. The Trucker and my mom can see when I have midterms coming or finals, and they know that I'm less likely to get the dishes done or I might need extra help with the kids. No one has to guess what is coming any more. I don't forget library days.

I did forget Early Dismissal one day in December, but I had the alarm in my phone to remind me. I was only a few minutes late getting to the school. I'd been running from 8 in the morning and hadn't seen the house calendar! The alarm rang and totally shocked me! Having so much on a smart phone is a blessing some days, I was able to text a mom that I know well and she hung out with Art until I got there. Well, actually, I got there in time to pick up a back pack because Art headed to their house to play for a couple hours. To be fair, that was also the week of studying for finals and my van started having bigger issues. I had a lot in my head!

Having this organized was a life saver. Realizing what I can actually do with a week was so helpful, enough that I was able to start switching the books for home reading in the kindergarten classroom too. Now, when my classes finish, I head straight to the Angel's classroom and flip the readers for the class. The mom who had been doing it started a new job and had to stop, so when I offered time to the teacher she was ecstatic. Everything fell into place at just the right time.

Next term starts soon. I sat down and made up pages for now until March 30. I feel good. I feel in control and organized and I am looking forward to ironing out other problems as school resumes, since I no longer have to fight with scheduling errors.

It takes time to make this, photocopying doesn't quite do it. I want edge to edge print for everything and something with clear lines. Really, it's just tracing a bunch of straight lines. There is no perfect measurement involved, just the edge of a ruler. It takes time to re-write the repetitive items, but really, it doesn't take much. I spent half an hour tonight and made up three months. Most of the routines are copied, I had to stop for my little girl. So, maybe I'll spend an hour at most on preparing this for three months. Can't complain about that. I've spent years trying to buy an agenda that works right for me and never found one I really liked anywhere.

Sometimes it really is just better to make things yourself. Everyone is different.

All I Want For Christmas Is A Nap

2013-12-23T17:40:00.000-07:00

What a crazy year I've had! School has been difficult and stressful and wonderful and amazing. I had a lot more to learn this year than just what my professors taught. The one thing that kept me going through my final exams was the idea that for one whole week I could drop kids off at school and spend a couple of hours all by myself. I had great intentions with this time too, like sleep. I could get a two hour nap with no interruptions.

Sadly, it didn't work that way. But it's okay. I've been having vehicle troubles and had to sort that out. Crazy Dodge Caravan that is like playing driving roulette. Will I have heat? Is it going to hesitate when I push the gas or am I gonna get slammed into my seat because it decides not to hesitate instead? Fun times. On the last day I had a chance to crawl in bed, only to have the phone ring and find out that the Trucker was on his way home at 9:30 in the morning. Nap time over. Haha.

I know I'm behind in posting, I simply don't have any time to write when school is in. I feel like I run non-stop. But I did find a few things that were helpful, and might help other moms who are in school also. The web is full of very generic "tips" for school when you have children, but honestly, they are crap.

Find quiet things for your kids to do while you do homework. Yeah, I figured that. The trouble is that decorating the walls with a Sharpie is actually pretty darn quiet. What is a mom to do? Yay, I got my essay done but now I have a couple hours of scrubbing the walls with SOS and hairspray. It's not really worth it. Sometimes, you just have to pay attention to the kids instead.

Get out of the house to do homework. Again, this is not as easy as it sounds. I had grand ideas, oh yes, I thought this would work. I gathered my books and papers and headed down to a quiet little coffee shop. Bought myself a nice treat. Cracked the lid of the coffee open and the textbook. There was only one other table in use. I thought this was perfect! Until those three people starting talking. They were so loud and animated, I couldn't focus on my reading at all.

The library is questionable. It depends on the time you go. There are noisy kids during some hours. Full seats during others. It just didn't work out. My only options would be going to a friends house (or family) and hiding there, but it has side effects too. For one, I lose some time driving there, and then there would definitely be at least a little visiting too. If I'm going to do all that, I might as well hide in my bedroom (the one with no locking door, of course).

Enlist friends or family to help with the kids. Again, a lot of good and bad here. My sister helped me out and took the kids off my hands at times. That was nice. But sometimes, you don't know how long you have. Sometimes, the kids come back so excited to share what they did, even though you are right in the depths of Dr. Faustus and somehow are magically pouring the greatest essay idea you have ever had out. Then you stop, listen to them, maybe even say "just let me finish this paragraph," and you turn back to the keyboard and poof, the magic is gone. Idea lost.

The trucker slowly came around and helped in a different way. He cooked a little more. He coordinated bathing and shower times more often. He started pitching in with laundry more. He found new ways to connect with the kids and this didn't just benefit me, it was good for him too. His whole outlook on family has changed in the last few months. But again, this is not a great dependable fix. He is a trucker after all. Some days he was home before the kids got out of school and he could pick them up. But more often than not, if I had a big project coming due, he had a long day and I'd be lucky if he was home before the kids bedtimes.

Keep an agenda, keep assignments organized and written down. An agenda is a wonderful thing, but I realized fast that having it written down for me was not going to give anyone else a clue about how much I had to get done. And I'm juggling three kids school calendars and events too. Plus the occasional thing that comes up for the Trucker. I've synced every device I have and even tried using a shared calendar option. But that only helps when others actually look at it. So I changed it. I made a week per page calendar for all of us and kept it on the fridge for everyone to see. And I wrote every thing down. Hot lunch orders, due dates for forms, assignments, everything went on there. It actually worked quite well and I will share more about that in a separate post, including pictures.

What I learned through all of this is that there is no real tip sheet for any mom on how to handle school. Each of us has a different family. I don't have kids that nap anymore, for example. I still have to help my 8th grader with homework and my 4th grader too. I have to read with Angel everyday, and not just bedtime stories.

I really took life one day at a time. It was liberating! A few things got missed, but nothing major. It is always surprising how you can adapt to things. No matter what has to get done, you find a way to get most of it done and the things that get missed are never the end of the world.

Now that I have time to write, I will share several things that came up and were very helpful. All of the above sounds negative to some degree, but it really wasn't. It was hard, but it was so very worthwhile. There has been so much positivity in my life since school started that it is amazing. My whole world has changed and I love every second of it. Even if I can't have a nap.

Ups and downs and Expectations

2013-11-05T13:10:00.001-07:00

Last week was so full of tears and stress. I think I hit my lowest point so far this year. But I struggled through it and was well rewarded this week. Getting my marks back for the last of my midterms reminded me that this is worth fighting for!

I will never be able to do ALL of the things I want to be doing, but I'm getting there.

Today I had tears again but they were more from a sense of accomplishment and pride.

It's hard, so hard, so heartbreaking sometimes. I have to fulfill some roles whether I want to or not. Like cooking, cleaning, and laundry. Somehow I have to get these things done. I have help at home. But it's not always helpful... It just doesn't balance out.

I'm forced to choose all the time. And the choices are more difficult than any I've faced in my life. I may have made some similar decisions in the past, when I was working. Torn between kindergarten field trips and work, for example.

But this feels different. For one, I made the choice to go back to school. This is totally voluntary! And second, not only am I not bringing income in for my hours of work, I am actually driving us deeper in debt. The results of these two factors can torture me some days and it is very hard to focus on the big picture.

The choices I have now are based on making the most of my time in school. I don't want to simply pass my courses, I want to do it well. I have to study hard and do hours of work to master the topics I study.

But I also still need to make sure the kids are okay. Deal with school, maintain self esteem, determine weaknesses and build strengths. Even more than that, though, I need to be present. I need to be an active part of my family. I need to listen to the rest of the family. I need to snuggle and hug and PLAY. I don't want to divide the family but I still have to do my schoolwork!

Fridays are sometimes hard, I want to be with the Trucker while he is at his Friday night job. But I want to be with the kids. But I want to study. Friday tends to be family focused until eight or so. Once the Angel goes to bed, the Trucker is off to work and the boys are settled, I get the most focused and quiet study time of the whole week. I want to be somewhere else during that time but I monopolize on the quality of the time for me instead.

This weekend, I had to choose between a family movie night or studying. That is a heart wrenching position to be in. The movie wasn't anything special, but the time is. The kids won't all stay sitting and relax if we are not all doing the same thing. If Mom doesn't watch the movie and I would rather do something else, I can go do it. So more than just removing myself from the moment, I risk that moment for all of them. If only 2 or 3 sit down, it is no longer family movie night.

I did choose the movie. But I folded laundry while I was watching it. I get spread too thin, quite easily.

The last two weeks have been full of midterms. I got back my last grade today. I tanked on one of the exams but I can see why when I look at the big picture. All of my marks have been 80 or higher, except that one. I earned a wimpy 68%. Being me, and therefore super-perfectionist-overachiever, I was devastated by this. I cried and stewed and got really unpleasant for a few days. Even though I know the rational side of everything and how to fix it, I was emotionally broken. I figured I'd made the single greatest mistake ever. I'm giving up so much of what I want to be doing right now and then it doesn't even show in my grade?

I shifted. I analyzed everything to pieces. I changed my strategy and hit the last midterm with a totally different approach and came out with 102%. And I cried again.

I cried because I can do this. I cried because even when it's hard, I am managing okay. My kids still know I'm here for them, I can still have time for my marriage. I can still study and attend classes. I'm not doing as much of all the things I want to be doing, but I can still do a little of all of it. And in a few more weeks I will get a break.

There is nothing about this that is easy, but I'm getting there!

Balancing School And Motherhood

2013-09-14T10:25:00.000-06:00

This week has been a big week for our house. With Angel starting kindergarten, I discovered a difficult truth. I no longer have the sole influence on any of my children. It's certainly not a bad thing, consider the line "It takes a village to raise a child." I have carefully chosen my 'team' to help raise my kids. Now, I have to put my faith into our collective efforts for yet another life.

There are no longer any morning snuggles with Angel after the boys go to school. My mornings are now rushed and busy. Three different schools to get to (on time) every morning. Waking up four of us and making sure we are all ready for the day is not always going to go smoothly.

The transition has been hardest on my Angel. Grandma has always been home in the mornings, so Angel generally woke up just after I took the boys to school. Now, she is up at the same time and leaves when the boys do. She has been the only child of mine who had the luxury of having Mommy home all day, everyday, since she was born. With my work from home job, I was rarely away from her except for occasional meetings.

Now, not only is Mommy leaving, but I am leaving her in an unfamiliar place. The first day of Kindergarten was terribly hard. She cried the WHOLE morning. The second day, she had a few moments without tears. I stayed in close contact with the teacher and we worked together to smooth her transition as much as possible. Monday was hard. Tuesday she said she didn't want to go to school anymore. Wednesday, I left her crying in the classroom again, but this time she was full of smiles when I picked her up.

Wednesday night was Meet The Teacher night. I knew that the importance of this night was not really about meeting the teacher, but giving Angel an opportunity to share her classroom with the rest of the family. Particularly Daddy. After she had shown everyone the things she likes about kindergarten and had the reassurance from all of us, she felt more comfortable in the classroom. (The Trucker often underestimates his influence on the children.)

Thursday she said she had a good morning, but she didn't want to talk about it. I didn't push. I do not want to overwhelm her with questions or make her think that I am worried about what she is doing while I am away. Friday was even better, though she still doesn't want to talk about it much. She now says she likes school and is looking forward to seeing her friends again next week.

My first full week of University was challenging. Yes, I had homework. Textbooks to read, terms and definitions to memorize. I knew this was going to be difficult. I was prepared for a week of figuring out my schedule, my adjusted daily routines. I've made a few steps in the right direction this week. But I ended up with a bigger priority.

I felt like I was drowning at a few points. The Trucker has injured his shoulder and is suffering low back pain again, so he's not really much more help than just another body in the house. I've scrambled to get dinners cooked and lunches made. I've stayed up past midnight to do homework because I just didn't have time in the daylight. I've left dishes on the counter and fell behind on laundry. I am grateful for my mother right now, she is picking up my slack with housework. She's not even complaining. In fact, she has mentioned how it's almost boring having no one in the house with her in the mornings! (Yay for me)

I'm exhausted and mentally drained.

But, I know with every ounce of my soul that I got things right this week. My number one priority was helping the kids adjust. School transition may be easier for the boys than for Angel, but it is still Transition. Art has new orthotics and also a new expectation to carry his Epi-pen on his body this year. He's had a lot of changes to remember and he is doing well. Macboy moved to grade eight and we had several issues with his class schedule this week. It is still not completely sorted out.

Angel had it the hardest by far. She has rarely been away from me at all. And when she has been away, it's almost always been that she stays home and I go out. I spent my week focused on her more than anything else. I played cars and built ramps. I made crafts and colored pictures. I played with Playdough for hours. It's paying off. It's showing her that even though we all have to change our mornings now, that is all that is changing. Home is still home. Mommy is still Mommy. We can and will always have time to play. I won't stop reading her stories even if the teacher is reading stories at school. I won't even stop when she learns how to read by herself.

I reinforced her sense of security. (I have had to do a lot of that with all three kids this summer.) I showed her that I will be waiting right outside her classroom door every day and that she can count on me. I will not leave her at school. I am not giving her away. I am COMING BACK. Every day.

I know that starting University is a big deal. I know that focusing on my homework and studying is important. I will not say that I avoided that in any way. It remained a priority, of course. But it was not the most important thing I did this week.

I've worked on my schedule and made a weekly planner for the fridge so I can keep track of four of us in school. Lots of things have needed to change and will continue to change. It's been a long challenging week. I expected it to be hard. Some days are actually easier than I expect while others are painful.

Being thirty five and starting University with three kids is complicated. I have to think creatively. I have to stay motivated. I have to constantly review and assess my priorities. They change every day. I have to sit through a lecture, while thinking constantly about leaving my poor little girl in hysterics at school. YOU try to focus in that situation!!

This is only the beginning, I have a lot of time to get the daily routine nailed down. I can find a babysitter when I need it. I can leave the Trucker with the kids and go study away from my house. I can make this work.

It will be so much easier to manage going forward because I spent the time to show my children that everything is going to be okay and our lives don't really have to change that much. Every minute that I spend showing my kids that I am STILL here for them, every extra hug and snuggle, every moment of one on one time to ease their minds will come back to me. Each second lays groundwork for easier studying time in the weeks to come. The kids know what to expect and what will be expected of them.

I had many moments this week where I thought I wasn't going to make it. I thought I'd made a horrible selfish mistake. I thought I could never do what I needed to do. But I can, I have and I will. I have chosen to go back to school for my own reasons. Yes, purely selfish. It's got nothing to do with money or because I want to support my children better. I've had pretty decent wages in my past. I just want to spend my time doing things that I love. And that is definitely the message I want to send my kids.

I am not doing this at their expense, even if I am doing this only for me. I am showing them that the only person in the world who really knows what each of them wants to do with their life is themselves. I want them to learn this early. So they don't have to start over at 35.

My work, focus, effort this week has not been without reward. We are all learning and growing. No degree in the world can ever change the fact that I am a Mom. I will fight to remain the Mommy I have been. We will not just survive this time in our lives, we will thrive. Because I have learned that being the Mommy they need, the Mommy I always wanted to be, is the most important thing I can do every single day.

And So It Begins, School Days For All

2013-09-08T10:11:00.000-06:00

Last week, school started for the kids and I. Tuesday and Wednesday were a trial run for the mornings, learning how to get my boys and I out the door on time. These days were an opportunity for me to really get an idea of how long my commute will be dropping the kids off at two schools and getting myself to class on time.

Thursday was Angel's first day. Thankfully my Thursday class starts a bit later, as it was a difficult start to the day. There were a lot of tears, hers at the school and a few of my own as I drove to my class. I sat through my Sociology class and tried hard to stay focused. I'm also grateful that the beginning of the year is not too intense. Yet. I arrived at the Kindergarten classroom a few minutes early to be sure I was in the right place (Angel gave me specific instructions) when she came out of class.

My little girl was so red faced and puffy, it broke my heart. The teacher informed me that the crying did not stop, it would ease up now and then, but essentially, she cried the WHOLE MORNING. That is not what a mommy wants to hear, ever.

Chatting with the Angel afterwards, she said she had fun. She told me all about what they did in class and she seemed pretty happy with it. She also said she was happy to go back again Friday.

Friday morning was the same as Thursday. Lots of tears and clingy hugs. I hated to let her go. But I gave her my biggest hugs and lots of kisses and reminded her that I would be back, waiting right where she told me to wait at 11:30. And I ran out the door as soon as I had said goodbye.

I was late for my Psyc class and even more distracted than the day before, since I knew how hard Thursday had been. I prayed my way through my English class, willing the minutes to move faster so I could go and check on my little one. Friday, she came out of the classroom with a smile. She still had cried quite a lot, but eventually she found something she liked to do and that occupied her until the day was over.

I'm spending as much time as I can trying to reinforce the sense of security in her. Seems like I've been reassuring my children all summer. I want to show her that home will not change just because she leaves in the morning now. I am reminding her that I will still read with her, even if her teacher reads to her that day. I will still play with her even if she finds new friends at school. Home is still HERS.

Art has been amazing. He has really stepped up as a big brother and he is helping her so much. Both days, he was able to go into her classroom (at the teacher's request) to remind Angel that she is not alone in the school and help her find things she likes about Kindergarten. He's waited for her at recess and given up much of his morning free time to make sure she is having fun. She drives him insane most of the time at home, but he sure adores her and is looking out for her. I have never been so proud of that boy!

Macboy is adjusting well to grade eight. I think it bothers him that, like me, he is not in the same place as the Angel. I get an email or two everyday from him asking for an update. How was today, Mom? Did Angel like school? Coming from my boy that can't stand school and never has enjoyed it, this is quite nice. Everyone wants Angel to be happy.

For me, University is a big adjustment, even without my own kids to worry about. I'm surrounded by people closer to Macboy's age than mine. My Professors have been wonderful, especially my Psyc prof, who was very kind when I warned her that I might be late for a few classes while we adjust to Kindergarten. Turns out, her little one started Kindergarten too. At least there is someone my age.

The cool thing about University that I've noticed so far, is that no one cares. I've introduced myself to those who sit near me and in that precise moment, there is no age. We are all just students in a class that we have all chosen to take. In the classroom, I am not 35, I am simply a student. And being in a much different age category is definitely going to spare me from some college kid drama that I don't want anyway.

I will have to learn to juggle a lot of things. Homework and children, laundry and essays. Dinner and dishes with reading a textbook. The Trucker has to learn a bit about how to help me too. So far, not much has changed in terms of help around the house. The kids are helping out more at least, so I'm not trying to struggle through completely alone.

Friday night, my wonderful sister came by to hang out with my kids. She played with them all evening. I was able to cook dinner and clean it up and get some homework done. I was even able to relax and catch up on a couple TV shows while the Trucker was working his Friday night gig. She is awesome.

Saturday was laundry and cleaning, with a few errands to run because I am still missing a few things for the four of us in school. Today, I will focus on my family. I need some real down-time before another busy week starts.

We Laughed, We Cried, We Cheered

2013-07-19T12:22:00.003-06:00

The last few weeks have been...wait. I don't know what to call it except "a few weeks." Two weeks ago, we were counting our blessings as we enjoyed games night with some good friends. Relaxing and laughing and playing, so peaceful. We stayed up well past two a.m. and felt wonderful.

Until we woke up Sunday and found that our trailer with two quads on it was gone. A kind neighbor mentioned she noticed them missing at 7 a.m., so we have a narrow time slot of 2:30-7 for the stupid asses to hook up and take our things.

This is stressful. The idiots who take this stuff don't think about anything. Even friends and family aren't here to help as I teach my kids how to handle such a horrible violation of our space. Years of work building their sense of security shot down in just a few hours. It broke my heart when Art woke up Monday morning and panicked because our truck was gone too. Thankfully, I was able to explain that it was MONDAY and Dad had his truck at work.

The nights here have been loud. All of my kids talk more in their sleep when they are upset, so there have been plenty of midnight ramblings. It's hard for the Angel Baby to understand. She keeps asking when Daddy is going to go get the machines and bring them home. My thirteen year old? He's not as emotionally invested in the quads, as he's been losing interest over the last year or so. But he has definitely changed his perspective on trust and faith in humanity.

Twenty four hours altered everything in our world.

I try to focus on thoughts like "It's only stuff" and "thankfully, no one was hurt." But in reality, this is crap. It's just a big old pile of crap. I don't ride the machines, ever, but this was something that we all went out to do as a family. Even invited more family and friends. We made many, many memories with the quads. This was something that the Trucker did to unwind. He'd need a break away from working and family life, and he'd go out with the guys to ride the trails for a day. This was his escape, stolen in a moment.

I have heard every night noise for two weeks. I have heard a million sirens and noticed the police helicopter daily. Two nights ago, I nearly jumped off my bed in the middle of the night because I SWEAR someone coughed right outside my window.

My kids are doing better, but I am not. My small sense of security has been shattered. This is my space, and someone just spit in it. I am grateful for insurance, as it makes this less of a financial loss, but insurance can't fix our minds or our hearts.

Last weekend, however, was completely different.

Out of spite (or grief, or exhaustion) we made absolutely NO plans for the weekend. We wanted to just stay home alone and hide. Until we got a call at 10:30 that our niece was in labor. Poor girl, her friend had taken her to the hospital and then just left her there alone. Her mom couldn't get here to be with her, she no longer lives in the city with us. After a few calls, we figured out where she was and headed out. The Trucker and I met with our other niece at the doors of the hospital and the three of us headed in to support her.

The trucker headed home exhausted around 4:30 in the morning to get some sleep and be with my kids when they woke up. I stayed with my two nieces until the sweet little baby girl was born. We make a good team!

This baby girl came out crying, perfectly healthy and so very sweet. I got to see every moment. It was very strange being at the other end of the delivery room bed!! Sickly fascinating, you don't want to look but then at the same time you simply can't look away.

I felt a lot of emotions that night and it will all come later in a post of it's own. Watching a birth is a life altering event. For me, it was freedom. It was like emerging from the crap of the previous week with a brand new fresh start. Just like that baby girl. For her it was a brand new day, a start to her little life. I can start over too.

I made it home around noon on Sunday. The trucker was a great help and let me sleep a few hours in the afternoon. Even brought me dinner in bed!! Definitely a new experience! I rarely have seen breakfast in bed, except for the occasional Mother's Day, so supper was a very sweet gesture.

Baby girl and her Mommy have had a clean bill of health, both are doing well and are at home. She is having no troubles with nursing so far and is doing well overall.

ME? Not so much. The stress and frustration of the theft, followed by an unexpected all night adventure (no matter how exciting and meaningful for me) has shattered my system. I can not sleep. I can not shut off the world and fall asleep. Last night I was in bed early but still wide awake at 1:30.

I do not feel the edges of depression creeping in though and I am extremely grateful for that. I will start Melatonin tonight and hopefully reclaim my sleep cycle and bring my health back to normal. There has been so much to do, so much to take care of on top of the regular parts of living. But I am okay!

It's just stuff. It's gone and even the police have said that the likelihood of getting back is super small. And of course, if we do get them back, they are likely horribly damaged. This is a terrible situation, but we have each other. We have love, we have life, we have other stuff. This is far from the end of the world.

I know, because I know what 'the end of the world' has felt like. I know darkness and pain. I know tears and anger. And now, I know hope. I know love. I know trust. I know that things are not as bad as they seem and if I ever start to forget...

I know that I just have to visit that little baby girl and remember that I have new beginnings everyday. Beautiful, unexpected blessings are just waiting around the corner. I couldn't find the silver lining in the dark cloud that hit us, so the universe made it obvious. There is always a reason things happen in our lives.

Follow your heart, even when it is hurting,

and you will end up in magical places.

(and ... lock your doors, keep an eye over your yard and your neighbors'', kiss your kids. You never know what will happen in the blink of an eye.)

Just Answer Me!

2013-06-26T15:10:00.000-06:00

Lately, life has been throwing a million questions at me. Big things and little things. Questions that make my mind spin and my heart ache. Always so many questions!! As this battle is waging in my head, I'm also surrounded by the hundreds of thousands of questions from a four year old.

Hers are not so complicated. Hers are simple. Her answers even easier. This is still an age where I can make something up instead of saying "I don't know." Which is important because "I don't know" is not an acceptable answer for a four year old.

There is always noise. My house is full and happy, which means lots of talking and giggles. Sometimes it overwhelms me and I just wish there would be five small minutes where NO ONE asked me for anything.

But I realize at the same time that I truly don't want that to happen. I know that one day, probably not too far away, I won't get all these questions. One day, these kids will find all their answers on their own. They may ask me occasionally, but it will never compare to where I am right now. Already Macboy has dramatically decreased his number of questions. Some of the remaining are about new video games or cool things he wants to get. "When can we go shopping,Mom?" Others are deep and profound and leave me speechless. Art is nearing the 'pre-teen' status and his questions are easy too. Not always easy to hear, but definitely easy to answer.

As I was reading Angel Baby's bedtime story last night, she stopped me in all the same places to ask all the same questions as we've had every single time we've read that story. Just as I opened my mouth to say "You ask me that every time!" I paused. I want her to ask me questions. I want her to be curious about her whole world and want to learn and explore everything she can. So, I answered the same question with the same answer. Again. And I will probably have to answer the same question again tonight.

I gave myself a knew perspective. She is not asking me because she doesn't know the answer. I'm not always sure WHY she asks. But I give her a consistent answer. I give her faith that I'm not going to change my mind. That thing on that guy's head is ALWAYS going to be a hat. What? A red hat, yes.

When you are four, you are scared of things that change. In two months, I will be preparing her for her first day of school and she will know that the guy in the story is still wearing the same red hat when she comes home. She knows that some things are real and consistent. Even when you have to leave your comforts and go somewhere new.

As she grows she will know, just as my boys do, that there really are NEVER any stupid questions. If you are unsure of something, ask. My boys test my limits often, but they know that even if I am angry, they can ask me their questions. Now that the boys are older, I can honestly tell them when I don't know something. And, I always make a point to find the answers to their questions.

I don't play games, I am honest. I don't hold back information just because they didn't ask a specific enough question. I tell them the truth and trust that they will take in what they are ready to take in.

Angel Baby will learn that it is always okay to ask a question. And she is learning that it's okay to ask more than once if you are unsure. She is learning that I will not judge her or ignore her. She is learning to trust me.

That's something I think we tend to forget as parents. Sure, I am teaching her the names and purposes of things around her. I teach her how to count and what her letters are. I teach her to draw and color. Soon I will be teaching her to read and write and create. But while I am spending my time teaching these everyday things, the value of each lesson goes far beyond what is in front of us.

I give my kids comfort and security. I give them a forever friend and unconditional love. In return, I get so, so much more.

So take a deep breath, my friends. When those questions seem unceasing, and you want to run away screaming, remember that you have an opportunity to teach something so much bigger. You are helping them understand their own universe.

Thank you for stopping by, it's always nice to have visitors. Please, share with your loved ones if you feel moved to do so. I write for myself, but gain fresh perspective from knowing that I am not alone in this world. I appreciate every single one of you who stops by to say hello. And even those who say nothing. You are here, that's what counts.

Join me on my facebook page or engage with me on twitter. I always enjoy meeting new people.

Study Help For Finals First Timer

2013-06-17T10:33:00.001-06:00

I get to learn grade seven social studies all over again! Macboy is ready for finals starting next week. He is a little anxious about social because he struggles with it. So do I, social studies is kinda stupid. At least for those of us who aren't interested in politics or naming the dead presidents of the US. We live in Canada, you know? Wait, I think we are out numbered, or nearly outnumbered, those who were born here. Not that I am complaining, Canada is awesome and everyone should want to live here. But, we can't distort our history to accommodate everyone, can we?

My boy has had test anxiety before and has overcome so very many obstacles on his way to junior high. I am so proud of him! I don't want to see his anxiety grow, so I've committed myself to helping him this week. We will break things down into smaller sections, review and read, and find a way to make it make sense for him.

Macboy has no trouble learning anything if he can find some relevance in it. He needs to know WHY he learns something and WHY it applies to his life. When he was in kindergarten and grade one and we were starting reading, he didn't want to do it. He questioned why he needed to learn it. So we took a drive after school one day and I showed him all the signs. Street signs, stop signs, store signs... everywhere. I told him that reading is important because it happens every day. He's not as avid a reader now, but he still does enjoy it.

With math it was easy, you also use math everyday. Science applies to everything that grows around us, plus his technical brain just gobbles up the science of robotics and physics. It makes sense.

Social? Well, social is harder. Current events is one big part of it, but as I make an effort to prevent the news from playing here, I can't really teach that. I don't believe in it, really. I don't want to know all the horrible things that happen in our world. I don't want to listen to political mudslinging campaigns. I don't want to make my children afraid of the world they live in. I have a hard time believing that there is more crime or natural disasters in the world today than ever before. I think we just have to hear about a whole lot more of it.

It's not that I don't feel for those people affected, but I don't want to hear it every single day. I will help my neighbor, I donate items to help where I can. I do my part, right here and now. I also don't expect someone in Japan to come running to my rescue when a tornado blows through our city. Right? And I am beyond sick of hearing the names of murderers and terrorists being repeated until they are lodged in our minds for eternity. Sick, evil people do not deserve fame! Treasure those who survive. Name the family who is grieving! Give them the fame. "Look at how strong and amazing these people are, they had their children taken in a horrible way, but look! They are still standing. They are strong. They have not stopped living!"

History is hard too. I've taught by example that things that are in the past should stay there. Now, I understand there is a big difference between a fight with your brother and a war between the natives and the explorers. But still. Beyond gratitude for the country we live in, as it is today, why do we need to learn about death? War is not now and has never been a good thing. Period. People DIE. For what? A slightly bigger (or smaller) piece of grass? Learn the names of the Generals who led thousands of young men to their death. The names of the men who stood on the sides and sent teenagers into a minefield. I just can't teach him that this is good.

But, Minecraft to the rescue for us. Building communities, working together, solving problems.... that I can teach. I can teach him that there is more. We can learn from history, even if it means that we strive to never repeat it. I can show him how having his own specific job in a minecraft server is like real life. Each person has a job. Each job is needed to make the server world flourish. I can teach him about trade, this guy has cobble stone you need, and you have wheat he needs. Bam. Social studies.

And suddenly, social becomes relevant to HIM. I hope to at least relieve the anxiety and boost his confidence going into the final. I'm not gonna cram him full of names and dates he'll forget. But we will cover everything we can. Sometimes, just having read it recently makes a big difference. I will let you know how this goes! Wish us luck!

Battling A Fear Of Bees

2013-06-06T15:49:00.003-06:00

Last year on our last camping trip, Art was stung by a wasp. It got him right in the left temple. He had hives within minutes and his face (nose, lips, more) began to swell. It was pure torture. We were half an hour away from the nearest hospital, but the trucker got us there in record time.

One of the scariest moments of my life.

Thankfully, it was near the end of bee season. I have never loved winter as much as I do now. He did not go in to full anaphylactic shock. Thank God. Now, we have a lot of debate hanging over our shoulders. Was it more the location of the sting that caused a more severe reaction? A single strain of wasp that he reacts to, or all of them? I wasn't right beside him when it happened, so I don't know exactly WHAT stung him.

We now carry an Epi-Pen everywhere we go. I'm grateful for it, but I hate the thought of ever having to use it.

This spring, we caught a wasp starting a nest in our garage. It's been removed and destroyed, but I know that the little sucker probably didn't move too far.

A few days ago, the boys were doing dishes in the kitchen. I went in to check on them and saw a wasp bumping up against the window. It left me two options, try to get the sucker out of the house or kill it. The sucker whipped past me and down the stairs. I ran to the door, knowing that they will often fly for the light and I hoped he flew out. But I stepped on something sharp when I hit the step and was bent over fixing my foot instead of watching the door.

Paranoia extreme!!

Did it fly out? Is it hiding downstairs? Ugh. Two nights, I tossed and turned. Full of nightmares of the stupid thing stinging my boy in his sleep. I'd never know until morning! What if... what if... what if....

horrible.

I scoured the basement. We cleaned up, moved everything. I constantly was searching windows and corners every time I went down there, trying to find a wasp that might not even still be in the house.

Last night, I went down to make some Sleepytime tea for us. I brewed two cups in the Keurig. Took the Trucker's cup to the bedroom and went back to get mine to take upstairs. BZZZZZZZZ right past my ear!! I nearly crapped myself. Then the stupid thing was flying at the ceiling light, way out of my reach. When he did land, it was right up at the top of the wall, so I yelled to the Trucker to come SAVE MEEEEEE... haha

Turns out he's just as chicken as I am.

But, he could reach higher. One good baseball swing stunned the bee and then he headed for a lower place on the wall. Swing two was a direct hit... or was it? We couldn't find a dead wasp on the floor!?!?!?! Furniture was moved, a bag was tossed, then said bag grabbed again and shook like mad to make sure it wasn't hiding inside. It wasn't.

We did finally find the creature. Gave it a couple extra smacks to MAKE SURE it was dead, followed by a ceremonial flush. I celebrated the idea of sleep without dreams!

Then I crawled in bed. And my mind started.... What if it wasn't the same one? What if the nest is in the wall and that's how it's got in? What if I just pissed off a whole colony that is going to come swarming through some invisible hole and KILL US ALL???

Okay, not quite THAT bad, but not far from it.

This is awful. It is physically painful for me. And I am very concerned that my excessively paranoid fear of bees is going to rub off on Art. He's my outdoors kid. He's the 'get down and dirty in the mud' kid. He's the 'go exploring randomly in the bush when camping' kid. Why him? Why my kid? Why THAT kid? He's been stung before, twice. Why didn't he react then? He was even hit by a bee (NOT wasp) a few days ago with no real reaction.

"These Are The Wrong Kind Of Bees"

I have always been one to run screaming when a bee or wasp was hanging around too close and now I have to be the strong one to get up close and personal and get it away from my kids. I'm the one who stays back at the campsite when the family goes out quadding, because I'm too afraid of riding with them. I'm also the one who will have to use the Epi-Pen if the need ever arises. I have to be the strong one. And I am not very strong these days. And especially if I'm at the campsite, while the family is far away in the bush facing bugs of all kind.

This summer is gonna kill me.

I know I don't need to be so worried. These kids have had 4 stings combined in their lives. BUT all 4 were ART. I know that the location of the sting (distance from the heart) can affect the severity of a reaction, and it was likely more extreme being on his face. I know that certain places have certain pesticides and chemicals around that may make these suckers more aggressive. I know that, for the most part, you leave them alone and they will leave you alone. I know that there are many, many species of bees and wasps and that he is not necessarily allergic to all of them. Not like I'm going to inspect each stupid insect to see if I should worry or not. And at this point, without serious allergy testing, I don't know what type he might be allergic to anyway. Which also means, that if I had allergy testing (which isn't 100% perfectly accurate), I am still going to worry about all of them because I'm certainly not going to start counting stripes or something to decide if I should panic or not.

And sure, lots of people are allergic to lots of things. I often remind myself that it is better to be allergic to bees than peanuts. I can see or hear bees most of the time. Nuts can be completely invisible. But no matter what, I wish we had no allergies at all.

I have read that sometimes people can have one bad reaction and then never have another. I've also read that the likelyhood of a severe reaction increases 60-70 percent in someone who has had a previous severe reaction. I've likely read too much.

The scary thing is, I haven't been back to that place yet. We are preparing to go at the beginning of summer and I'm a wreck. To stand in the place where I watched my childs face begin to swell? I'm not sure I'm gonna be okay with that. The early summer weekends aren't so bad, there are not nearly as many wasps around and they are mostly busy with bug-work. By the end of the summer, it all changes. They know they are all going to die and get aggressive trying to get sugars to keep themselves in energy. The Trucker has already mentioned his hope for a September trip out there this year. I finally told him yesterday that I don't think I can do it.

The worst part, is not knowing. I don't know if this was a fluke thing. I don't know if the next reaction could be the last. I don't know anything. And I can't protect him. I can't put him in a bubble. I can't be with him 24/7. I can't teach him fear of living. I can't .... I can't control this. There is absolutely no way I can control nature at all. And I HATE that. How do I convince Art that he is fine to go outside and play after school, when the thought of it picks at my mind the entire time he's out there? I'm certainly not going to force him to stay inside just for my sake. What kind of life would he have?

I am aware that my worry is excessive. It usually works that way for me. I will think it through a thousand different ways and once I've reached the end of all possible outcomes, I will decide the best way to move forward. It is a hard process for me. Truly. But it is MINE. It is the way I find the most peace with anything in this life of mine.

As I said, it's going to be a painfully long summer for me. I will be realistic and get through it one day at a time. That's how we do everything anyway, isn't it?

For now, I'm taking whatever precautions I can to protect our yard from invaders. I'm paying more attention when we all go through the doors. I'm not opening that window that has a huge hole in the screen until I fix the screen. And I'm making sure that we have our Epi-Pen with us at all times.

I hope to have a memorable summer, and I can't wait for winter. How about you?

Give Them Truth And Let Them Choose

2013-05-28T12:21:00.000-06:00

Life is a funny thing. We grow up desiring some really superficial things, only to become 'adults' and realize that now that we are old enough to do whatever we want, it's not really worth doing. Well, most of us anyway.

I've seen friends and family turn to drugs or alcohol. I have seen the dark sides of addiction in too many people that I've cared about. I am a born helper and knowing that there is nothing I can do to help someone kills me. When they make that choice for change, though, I can be there for them. It breaks my heart waiting for that choice, and sometimes, it just doesn't come.

Why do we want all these things? Why do they seem so exciting before we can try it? Macboy is 13, I know that many kids his age have already experienced drugs, tobacco, alcohol and even sex. I also know that he is not doing any of these things. I am close to my kids, I am here and I am accessible. And also, one of the first to know what he is doing, because he tells me. I'm clinging to this relationship for as long as I can. I know that there will come a time that he won't want to tell me, but I hope we can get around it.

Yesterday was 'Health Day' at his school. All kinds of presentations were given all around the school and they classes made their way through them. I'm proud, because he said he didn't really learn anything that he didn't know already. I'm proud because I was the one to teach him most of that. I never want my kids to have to learn from other kids. I will always answer their questions and try to prepare them for what is coming.

But this Health Day did lead to an interesting discussion about drugs between him and I. We haven't had to have a lot of those drug talks, but we've had a few. He asked me questions about addiction, because he knows that I've had a long battle with nicotine. We've had an alcoholic in our lives. I've got a strung out cousin who is in and out of jail and rehab. I think we both felt better.

I'm not saying we're angels, us parents. There are our own times of experiments and such. Though I can't speak for what the Trucker was like before I met him, I know that I have made good choices with my life. I won't lie to him either. If he is old enough to ask, he is old enough for honesty.

My downfall was drinking. I grew up with alcohol in the house and the first time I had rum (and got tipsy) was in grade 6. I was drunk often through grades 7-9. Not good. I was smart, though, and my marks didn't slip too low. And when I hit high school and the kids were all just starting to get into what I'd already done for awhile, I was kind of done with it. By the time I was old enough to legally drink, I was an extreme hangover walking. It quickly became painful to drink. I do have drinks every now and then, but it's not something I really enjoy or ever look forward to. More than 3 of anything and I'm down for a minimum of 24 hours. Which just can't be done when you have three kids!

Macboy is very logical. He often reminds me of Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory and it cracks me up. Our conversation yesterday was quite philosophical, really. And it's not really about health or the effects on a body. He asked "Why do people choose to give up control of themselves to a chemical substance?" "Would you let someone else make all your choices for you? At least, if it's a person, you have a chance because they might not be stupid. A chemical makes no sense. Has no conscience. Doesn't care about YOU."

He then quizzed me about my nicotine addiction and my caffeine addiction. Smart boy, that one.

What I don't understand is why time and nature work the way they do. Why do laws state that we must be such and such age before we can drink or buy cigarettes. Sure, it makes it harder for younger kids to get, but really, it just makes them desire it more. I think in some ways withholding access to these things makes the user more excessive when they finally can get it themselves. Many of us have that year or two of partying like mad, 'college years' and all that. Many of us try it out, and then realize that it was never worth the hype and the health risks are not worth a few short hours of whatever it is we've had. Many of us stop a lot of these dangerous things. But not all of us.

I find, with my kids, that anytime I try to restrict something, they just want it more. Candy, video games, staying up late, whatever. I am not a very strict parent, I'll admit. I have boundaries that can not be crossed, but I always make sure they understand why I have set those boundaries. My boys have both tasted beer and wine. Neither of them like it. It wasn't something I had that they couldn't. And now, it's not an issue at all. They simply know that they didn't like the taste. They ask why I have any of it, I answer as honestly as I can. I don't really know. In small doses, in moderation, I enjoy a few drinks with friends. I can relax in a different way and loosen up. But I don't do it all the time because drunk Wendy is not Wendy.

No matter what anyone says.

I believe that you can't be a different person just because of alcohol. I think some traits are lying under the surface, regardless of drugs or alcohol. The sober person can make the rational choice to NOT act on those impulses. An intoxicated person loses that inhibition. We do things we normally would not do. There is a reason we are inhibited! If we were ever intended to act the way we do when we are drunk, we would act that way everyday. I simply don't understand it. I guess I'd have had to become an alcoholic to understand, and if that is the case, I'm grateful to never understand.

I think it is simple human nature that makes us desire what we can't have. The grass is greener mentality. When we have it, we don't know what it means anyway. And then we grow up and realize it was never worth having anyway.

Think of how much time we can waste in our lives, experimenting with things we never wanted to begin with. I can't imagine how much farther ahead I could be in my life if bars were nothing special. I grew up in a time where children were allowed in some bars up until a certain time of night. I sat and played games with friends while our parents drank together. I saw how they acted stranger and stranger after each drink, and I saw what I never wanted to be.

I don't want to subject my children to seeing what I have seen, but I do want them to grow up knowing the truth. And I will continue to tell them things they may not want to hear, I will give them the truth they deserve. I will pray daily that they make the right choices when their time comes.

Close My Eyes And Think

2013-05-27T17:51:00.000-06:00

The itch to write is really strong lately, but the words are just not flowing. Or, perhaps they are and I'm just not listening carefully enough. I need to slow my mind, stop the racing. Stop and focus on one thing.

I thank my previous education for my typing skills. They give me the power to close my eyes and just let the words pour from my head to the page, without a filter in between.

The sun that was so warm and bright this morning is hiding behind dark grey clouds and I feel like my motivation is hiding with it. So, I close my eyes and take in my surroundings. The kids are giggling downstairs. For a few brief moments they are all playing together. The giggles like a song to my subconscious, if only I could tap into their joy and steal just a tiny bit. Would they laugh less or would I be able to join? Probably neither. Perhaps stealing a little strength would deflate them. It would just bring everyone down.

Stop, breathe, listen. Inhale.... Mmmmm... Lilacs. Our tree is in full bloom right now and someone has put some flowers on the table. Sometimes, the scent is overwhelming. It is just another distraction. Sometimes, the light and the kids happy noises and a TV and the flowers and the smell of dinner cooking.... it's just enough to leave me reeling. Too much, just too much happening all around me. I crave silence and darkness to bring me back to earth.

This time, the scent of the lilacs - a combination of white and purple - is soothing. Like a warm caress of spring, wrapping me up and making me whole. It's a scent of home. It's a scent of spring. Spring is new beginnings, birth of the flowers and buds on the trees. Bugs and construction. Progress, for whatever that's worth.

I am making progress. I've been sticking to this weight loss plan of mine and doing okay. Today, I lacked appetite but I forced myself to eat breakfast and that turned things around for a while. I will still be on track after today. Progress is good. I have a dream of a new version of myself held firm in my mind. I don't need a degree to define me, I don't need to be skinny either. I know that I am enough, just as I am, right now. But I am taking steps to grow. I don't ever want to stop growing.

We cut back the lilac bush every few years. It grows tall and reaches the powerlines over our yard. It grows wide and hangs over the neighbor's fence. It constantly grows. No matter how much we cut down, it surges back in almost no time at all.

I'm glad I'm not grass, though I do sometimes relate. I struggle and persevere only to feel like I've had my head chopped off and thrown down, but I keep growing up. Keep starting over and pushing. Nothing really stops it.

I love to lay in the grass in the middle of summer. When it is soft and lush and green. Both literally and figuratively, nothing makes me feel more grounded. I am just a small piece in this life puzzle. Playing my part as best I can. Occasionally improvising and, often, dealing with an unexpected change of direction.

I am happy, for whatever that is worth. I don't know that in the grand scheme of things, it really matters a lot. it makes it easier to get things done, to spend time with my family and help them be the best they can be. When they are at their best, I feel I've done my best. This is my purpose. To find my dreams, to chase them and to teach those I love how to do the same. I want my kids to surpass my accomplishments. To grow up and 'show me how it's done.'

Some of my best writing comes in these times of melancholy. Some of it comes from anger. Sometimes, it's tear stained paper. But it's all emotion. The benefit of writing fiction is that I can take that litle bit of me and turn it into something so much more. I can turn it in to someone elses dream. I can turn it into someone's nightmare. The point is, I can change it. I can take my sadness and write the success of a protagonist. I can take whatever I'm feeling and make it anything I want.

This is where I thrive. If the rest of the world could get a tiny glimpse of what occurs in my head, they would want to live there too.

But life happens on the outside. And so, I must open my eyes and return to my reality. Guess it's time to cook some dinner and I should probably fold that laundry I've been avoiding all day.

And I am grateful that my reality is actually pretty good. I am blessed.

Reading and Rambling

2013-05-24T17:23:00.002-06:00

I'm in the mood to write right now, but I have no clue what I actually want to write about. So, hold on to something, we're going on the rollercoaster ride of my brain with no real direction. I usually find that the road I want sort of makes itself appear. I'm just going to type all this randomness until something happens, or until I'm just done. Okay? Okay.

No, wait... I have to go switch the laundry...

Have I ever told you how much I hate doing laundry? At least I made three bucks on this load. I hate that no one checks their pockets here, but I love that no one checks their pockets. haha

I'm feeling mellow today. I finished a novel this afternoon, last of a series of 6. Which is funny because if I had known when I read the first one that there were six, I probably wouldn't have started it. I read one, then found out there were more. Thought it was a trilogy until I came across the fourth. Then I was done for a month or two. I thought it was strange that the story didn't really end. Each book has it's own ending, so you do feel that it is over, but that one seemed like it should wrap up the whole story, you know? And out of the blue, I stumble into "Book Six Has Been Released!"

Ummm... six? really? So I scramble to the library and get book five. Read it in a couple days and then checked for six. The library had copies on order, not even in yet- THAT new. Placed my hold and relished the feeling of being the first library patron to read this copy of this book... Yep, I'm that kind of book dork.

Anyway... I finished it today. I loved it. I really felt connected to the characters, even though they were under 15. It was well written. If I tried to describe it, you'd probably think I was nuts. The storyline is kind of sci fi, but very cool if you give it a shot. If you want some reading that will last awhile but not get boring, give the Gone Series by Michael Grant a try.

Well that was interesting. There are book trailer videos on the home page at that site. Funny how video doesn't really match up to your imagination.

Ever done that before? Picked up a book that you would have avoided if you knew it was a series?

I'm starting Perks of Being a Wallflower next.

I started a weight loss plan two weeks ago. Tracking over at SparkPeople, eating better and exercising more. I'm down 3.5 lbs so far. Lets hope I don't spring back up!! I hate that. I lost twenty lbs. last year but then gained 15 back in no time when I quit smoking. I'm done with that. This weight is coming OFF. I have a closet full of really nice clothes that I want to wear again. Dammit, I want to be too small for them!!! But first things first, I will go one day at a time and just keep paying attention and making good choices. I don't want to 'diet' really, no drastic measures. Just maintain my health and pray it all comes together.

24 school days left until summer. Sad that I started counting down before the kids did.

Its a grey rainy day here today. Normally, I'd hate that. Today is okay, it's been so dry and there have been fires all over the place. We need the rain. I swear I can already see the grass getting greener.

This didn't really help my need to write. And it probably didn't provide much in the way of entertainment for you. It's a little heavy on the book review side too... I should watch that. I read a LOT. I apologize, sometimes it spills over. Like when I read the Alchemist, it held on to me for a long time. I can't wait until someone else can say they got sucked right in to a novel that I wrote. But, my character is kind of in hiding write now. She's lost in the back of my mind. Perhaps thinking of what she needs to do next. I don't know. I know that she will make an appearance again very soon. She never stays away long. And usually, it's about 1 am when she starts filling my head with ideas.

Take care friends... I'm off to cook dinner and probably read some more.