So I think I should write

But what do I write? I could do a year in review but to be honest, I don't know that I could entirely remember my year.

It's a weird life, this single parent thing.Trying to balance the needs of my children, help them with their relationships and struggles, weigh out whats best for them and advise them accordingly, while monitoring my own needs and desires in addition to working and school while providing the kids with food, shelter, clothing, but most of all GOOD memories, fun times and a sense of safety and normality.

For you see, the pciture of the "perfect" family, you know the one, withtwo parents still together, hunts us and haunts us at every turn.

Each birthday is a reminder, we are broken. Each mothers day, fathers day, easter, thanksgiving, christmas hallowe'en, canada day, summer vacation, spring break, christmas holidays, christmas recital, spring ply graduation, dance competition, it sits there silently screaming we are different, we are broken.

And so this single parenthood thing is no picnic . For I have to make us NORMAL. Which means creating family memories that they will remember where mom is smiling and laughing on the outside while not letting them see, glimpse or even dream that the insides might be screaming and howling at the unfairness and the not normalness of the whole situation. Not let them see that things should be different and that I failed them in this way. Not letting them know that a broken heart beats and with each beat bleeds tears about all that I want to give to them......expecially the knowledge that they, that we are NOT different and that our life is just fine and perfect.

And yet, when those tears come, those heart wrenching tears cuz they don't want to go to dads cuz it means leaving mom and they cannot balance the two, I have to hold them and tell them all is well and everything will be fine even though I myself am screaming that it is NOT fine. And then after they are smiling, I turn, drive home and weep silently in the dark at all in our life that is NOT fine.

The demons of single parenthood greet us at every turn, taunting and teasing me...

And so I pray, God make our 2011 a year when we can be NORMAL. When the demons no longer taunt, when we can know that we stand in your favour and your blessing and when our dreams of a normal family become reality.

Make Me A Channel

Make Me A Channel


Make me a channel of your peace.
Where there is hatred let me bring your love.
Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord
And where there's doubt, true faith in you.

Chorus:
Oh, Master grant that I may never seek
So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul.

Make me a channel of your peace
Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope
Where there is darkness, only light
And where there's sadness, ever joy.

Chorus:

Make me a channel of your peace
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned
In giving to all men that we receive
And in dying that we're born to eternal life.

I was a little girl. Eleven years old to be exact. In the CRC (Christian Reformed Church), babies were baptized and then once you got older, you professed your faith (a public declaration). The equivalent would be dedication and baptism.This is about the same time that I read "The Cross and the Switchblade" and knew that I wanted to work with at risk youth (although that's not what I called them then)

So my dad asks me: did I want to do my profession of faith. And my heart leapt. Yes I did!. Little did I know....oh, little did I know....

What that entailed was that I sit weekly (likely for 6-8 weeks) before the elder board of the church (who ran EVERY meeting with ALL of them dressed in suits) and defend my faith and explain what I wanted to do this. Additionally, to be quizzed as to my biblical knowledge. Talk about terrifying and traumatizing a little girl.

Anyhow, I successfully "passed" and so the date was set. I was to stand before the church and profess my faith. And then I heard this song. And I KNEW that this song needed to be a part of this process. So in my little trembling, wobbly 11 year old  girl voice, I now stood before the congregation, terrified and sang out this song from my heart. And did I mean it. I meant EVERY WORD that I sang. I truly wanted to be the epitome of that song.

Fast foward many years. And now I am hearing about everyone having a life verse. And my heart is desperate for one. And so awakens that desire.

Fast forward to now. As I sit and reflect on the words of that song, a few things jump out at me. One? That prayer, that song is my life verse. It is what I want to do. It is my hearts deepest desire to bring that forth, call that out and release people into that. And so I sing and pray:

Make me a channel of your peace.

Where there is hatred let me bring your love.
Where there is injury, your pardon, Lord
And where there's doubt, true faith in you.

Make me a channel of your peace

Where there's despair in life, let me bring hope
Where there is darkness, only light
And where there's sadness, ever joy.

Oh, Master grant that I may never seek

So much to be consoled as to console
To be understood as to understand
To be loved as to love with all my soul.


I sit here and blog this, pour my heart into this post and weep. My heart longs to do this and I believe that in my counselling practice, I do do so. And in light of some recent personal sceanrios, I do believe that I live this. However, I also know there are areas that I have not done my best. Certain things have gotten in the way, and I have reacted instead of acted.

When I was a young girl of 11, this was my heart. However, little did I know that the training ground would be so terribly painful, would be so filled with aunguish.

But, if I want to impart love, I need to know and have EXPERIENCED hatred. If I want to impart forgiveness and pardon, I NEED to know injury. If I want to shine of truth faith, my own MUST have been shaken.

If I want to impart hope, I must have held hands with despair. If I want to reflect the light of the King, I must have walked in the darkness. And if I want to shift paradigms to that of joy, I must be bent to my knees with sadness and grief.

The training ground is hard. But today as I sit, a woman of 37, and this is still my heart's intent.

Listen as I sing along:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BtJeI4Q9nBE

I'll be honest

I am being flooded. I am being flooded with a myriad of emotions. I had lost connection with many important people to me, and today brought a reconnection with some of those people. As a result, I am being flooded with memories, with emotions, and with lost hopes and dreams. I am realizing now, what in my stupidity, I lost back then.

Life is weird. Many times I have looked back and wondered what I lost and in doing so, realizing that if I was different, interpreted things differently many many things would be different in my life. Friendships I had would not be lost, relationships that mattered would be prominent still.

Life throws many curves, and I have found out that many times we act in the moment and find out years later we regret what we did, that seemed right at the time.....but in hindsight we wished we did differently.

I find myself in one such situation. I am mourning what I now realize I lost, and yet thankful for the grace of God to give me a portion of what I lost. It is not what it was, but I treasure what it is now. Why? Because I realize what I almost lost completely and I am thankful for what I have now although it wasn't what I had then. I realize the treasure I lost and am thankful for any part of that I have now.

And so as I move forward, I hope that I can remember this lesson, and learn to treasure what I have, although it may not be what I wish. For many times, I find that when I lost what I had, although it wasn't what I wished, when and if I am able to regain it, I am thankful for the lesser that I have, and regretful that I was blind to the treasure I had.

The Lord gives.....

and the Lord takes away. It can be a comforting verse. In fact, it was a verse I clung to during my separation with my x. The Lord gave me my x, and then my three children, and then he took my x away. And for me that was the better thing.

And yet now.........

Now I am faced with a situation where the Lord took away......and it makes no sense to me as to the why.... I have always been a person that, if given a reason why, if given some rational or logical understanding, then I can accept a lot of things. Even the things that are most hated.

And yet, I struggle. I struggle with the seemingly nonsensical things that occur. The things that I cannot reason. The things that I cannot understand. It makes me question a lot of things.

Does it make me question my faith? Does it make me question my God? No!

Why you ask?

Well the reasons run something along the lines of this. I do not know God's reason. In fact, many times God and I have arguments as to the why and wherefore of things. In fact, we have had many a heated argument as to His reasoning.

But what I must remember, even in the face of this tragedy, is that God is in control. He knows best and He has His reasons.

Oftentimes, as parents, we ask our children to do certain things that they neither like nor understand. Yet we demand it of them. To us it is reasonable, to them, they think we are punishing them.

In the coming weeks, that is what I must remember. When I hold my crying sister, when I comfort her little ones, that is what I must remember.

When I hide my tears from my children, when I sob into and fall asleep on a tear soaked pillow, that is what I must remember.

And to be honest? It SUCKS and I HATE IT. AND I AM ANGRY AND HURT AND I ACHE MORE THAN CAN BE DESCRIBED

and i trust and hold onto a hope and believe and pray and try to remember to  breathe.......

Birthdays

So I remember birthdays when I was young and the biggest thing that I remember is that the only two times in the entire year that I felt "special," that I felt important or that I felt that I had something of value was during my birthday and during Christmas. Those were the ONLY TWO days out of 365 days that I felt celebrated. I think that that contributes to why I am so anal about both my birthday and Christmas. I hate it when it gets passed over and nothing happens (speaking of my birthday) and I hate it when there is not big celebrations that I can go to around Christmas. Those things deeply sadden me and I feel empty.

I think that that is why I ensure that my children's birthdays are so celebrated and are something that they can remember. At the beginning of the school year, we were at an event at the school and Missy was discussing with her friends her birthday party this year. And as she was doing this, her friends were running through all her birthdays.....her wine and cheese party, her princess party, her Clue mystery party...to name a few. This year, I had an esthetician come in and do a Mani / Pedi party. Unfortunately, we didn't get to the Pedi's so we have a Part II to Missy's birthday in February. The girls got to pick their colors and got rhinestones and/or decals on their toes. They played Twister and a few other games. They had appetizers and punch in champagne glasses and all in all I believe it was a successful party! One remark was "this was the best party I have ever been to!" I consider that a success.

Maybe it's not fair of me to put so much into a birthday party based on my own needs. It is one of the things that we are warned of as parents. Living out our dreams through our children whether it fits them or not. I am not sure whether something like this counts or not? What I do know is that my daughter had a fabulous birthday, she enjoyed it and her friends enjoyed it and for a child who struggle socially,  I think this is a good thing!!!!

What makes you hide?

"Don't ask or demand that someone be something/someone they are not. Authenticity is rare, we should encourage and nurture it! ~ Natalie Brown

This quote from a friend of mine, got me thinking. What is it about authenticity, about transparency that scares us so much? Is it the fear that our skeletons will be found out and we shall be judged based only on our skeletons? Is that why we hide?

Trust me, I have far more than my fair share of skeletons and yet, there is freedom in being me. There is liberation in being true to what I think and feel and not allowing myself to allow others to determine who or what I am. We all have skeletons, mine may or may not be worse than yours. What would that matter anyway? You have yours, I have mine, let's call it even and call it a day. Because, (and here is the key) what nearly destroys me, you may sail through fine, and what I sail through without a second thought could very well be what brings you to your knees. I think therein lies the truth: I am affected by things differently than you are and as a result, I have no right to judge whether your struggles are suitable struggles because you know what? For YOU they ARE. So what makes me the judge and jury of what you should or should not struggle with. I have not lived your experience, I have not suffered your hurts and pains, so based on that and that alone, I have no right to even suggest that what affects you should not affect you.

So, that aside, what makes us hide? Is it our fear that others are better than us? That we are somehow more evil or more "bad" and if we were transparent than people would see that?

I had this conversation with my intern supervisor and what we both agreed on is this: the world suffers from a global self esteem complex and yet we all firmly believe that we are isolated in this regard. We look at our neighbour, friend or family member and compare ourselves. We see in them things we want for ourselves and this then highlights our shortcomings and the things we don't like within ourselves. Result" we end up hating oursleves and experiencing a self esteem issue or an inferiority complex and believe that we are the only ones that feel this way.  So we hide. And yet, in doing so we miss so much richness in our lives. We miss seeing the treasure that others are and we miss the treasure that lies within ourselves. Think of the things you could accomplish if you really knew who you were and believed it. And then granted others the same thing?

Is it he belief that in order for us to be successful, we have to maintain that facade whether or not we believe it? Fake it til you make it? Do we really believe that even if we don't feel secure, if we act it, we will be secure? The problem with this is that we come off as arrogant, prideful, self centered and superior. And then, as much as we long to be in relationship with people, we end up pushing them away instead. So in our attempt to fake it till we make it, we end up losing the one thing that we so deeply and intensely desire to gain. We put up walls around our pain, we seal it off and appear inpenetrateable to others. But you see, when we wall our pain in, we wall ourselves in and then we lose the  relationships and deep soul intimacies we long for

Or are we really just that shallow? Are we so disillusioned with life and what this world has to offer and the state of humanity that we choose to live a shallow passionless existence. Have we subscribed to apathy in order to dismiss the fact that we should stand up for those around us? Do we feel so powerless in the face of evil that it becomes easier to look the other way to maintain a semblance of comfort? If that is true than I would ask this: is the sacrifice of giving up yourself and living a passionless, shallow existence worth the comfort that looking away brings? For me, it doesn't. I simply cannot stand aside and see human suffering. I am COMPELLED to act. Yes it hurts to do so. In doing so I am transparent, I am vulnerable and I risk being wounded. But I gain LIFE and passion and a zest for living and a deep stirring in my soul.

So what makes you hide?

I HATE TRAUMA

in case you missed that, let me say it again, I HATE TRAUMA....

I hate that it robs you of life.

I hate that it instills in you fears uminmaginabble.

I hate that it makes you go around constantly watching every move that every one around you makes.

I hate that you never feel safe.

I hate that you can't sleep at night for the fear of something bad" happneing.

I hate that it makes you alter your life patterns to keep safe.

I hate that it ma kes yoiu turn against yourself and subesequently hate yourself.

I hate that its a wound few choose to see.

I hate that you don't know how to "be" normal.

Did I mention that I hate trauma?

I hate that it steals innocence.

I hate that it causes uncontrollable panic.

I hate that taht it often ends up looking like ADHD and ADD....oh.....that sneaky beast trauma.

And most of all?

I HATE THAT IT STEALS LIFE.

PS. did I mention I hate trauma?

Glitters and Gold

Many years ago I discovered a new author. One that I have thoroughly enjoyed and turned many people onto. Upon reading his novels, I discovered his forum and have been on and off of it for near as many years. As with all forums, you have to pick a username so I picked Glitters. Friends that I have met through the forum and have asked me why I picked the name Glitters. My explanation was that I had wanted to be so covered with the love of Jesus that I shone, I glittered.


Well, on Saturday that came true. Let me explain. Saturday night my church had their worship circle. What that is, is: a gathering of believers who igather together and pour out their worship to God. We worshipped for two and a half hours and then at the end there was a prayer tunnel. A prayer tunnel is when you make two lines of people and one person walks through it and as they go through people pray for them. So my turn came and I got a few words (and I am being specifically vague here) that indicated that I am in God's favour right now. In fact, one gentleman prayed that God would show me something that would unmistakeably tell me that I am in His favour and that this would happen by Tuesday. Well I guess God thought that this was something I needed that night as opposed to Tuesday. For you see, what happened is this:

By the time that I had finished walking through the tunnel, both of my hands were covered and I mean COVERED with gold dust, sparkles where there were none before. And as the night wore on my face also became covered and I mean COVERED in the same gold dust. All people had to do was look at me and they were able to see me covered in it.

Glitters and Gold and favour!

dress up?

I have been watching various statuses over the past few days as people are gearing toward Hallowe'en and one thing that keeps popping up is the question (from adult to adult): What are you wearing for hallowe'en. Now when I was a kids, adults didn't dress up which then begs the question: What is it, in dressing up that attracts adults?

A few answers come to mind:

1) Its a bit of a regression state when we adults get to play.

This is a compelling answer. Many adults these days do not take the time to play and we live in a world where there is constant stress: be that as a result of early dysfunction or be that a result of just trying to survive in today's economic structure. Regardless of the root (did I really just say that?) perhaps dressing up is just a time that we get to play and be young at heart without the fear of being judged. For is not Hallowe'en about dressing up and having fun? Perhaps it is merely an excuse to be a kid again (something akin to Disneyland!)

2) It is a means to allow a hidden identity to emerge.

Now this answer demands a deeper consideration. As children, many of us had fantasies of what we would like to be. Loosely speaking for boys it was the hero and loosely speaking for girls it somehow stems around being beautiful and loved. Now look at the commercial costumes for adults. For men: Heros or Villians, and for women: something beautiful, sexy or sultry. So is hallowe'en an excuse for us to release those wishes we had as children and be those things that we wish we were but know we are not?

3) Is it a time when we can take our outer masks off?

Hallowe'en is a time of putting masks on so why do I talk of taking them off? Hold on and bear with me. In life we all wear masks that hide our true identity, the one that only we know ourselves as. We wear a mask of employee or boss, husband or wife, mother or father, social butterfly.....the list goes on. But how often are we transparent, how often do we reveal our real and deep thoughts and dreams? Ninety nine percent of the time we filter before we reveal what we allow others to see. So is hallowe'en then a time when we turn our internal filter off and reveal those deeper things that make us who we are. Take a hero vs. villian. We have both motivations in us.....and in our daily life we may be one more than the other....so does Hallowe'en allow our alter ego to emerge for a night? Instead of the lawyer always fighting for justice, on Hallowe'en he becomes the villian? Of the guy at work who is always stirring the pot and being a s*%t disturber...on Hallowe'en he becomes the hero?

What do you think?

My date

So as I was fortunate enough to be able to take my daughter out for a date, in a completely unplanned moment, I was able to do that with my youngest son yesterday. What started out as shopping for his Hallowe'en costume turned out into a wonderful day. After his dance practice, I picked him up and away we went. You see this year, Jamie's hallowe'en costume has been a problem. For you see, he wanted to be a clone trooper. Now, when it comes to costumes I am a bit picky and these printed jumpsuit ones just don't do it for me. Thankfully I discovered that they make a deluxe version with padding for the muscles etc etc. I was VERY excited...til I went shopping......$85.00-$100.00 later I could get him an amazing costume!

say it with me now.....

ARE YOU KIDDING ME????

I don't even spend that on normal clothes for MYSELF let alone something that would be worn once. And so the hunt began. We went to Costco but no such luck, I had already been to Value Village with no luck so off we went to Wal Mart. After browing their crazy selection, we went through the rest of the mall and ended back up at Wal Mart, relooking at all the costumes again. Then as we went one by one through them all.....

we found it!!!!!



My ghoul? or phantom? or grim reaper? Not sure what it is but that doesn't matter............CUZ HE LOVES IT and in fact told me this morning, how very happy he still is.

After getting the costume we went to McD's where my loving, generous boy, shared his prized chicken nuggets with me (the only thing he likes on the menu). Then he asked if we could go to Hyde Creek because they were having a spooky swim. So I checked it out and sure enough they were, as well as a host of other things. So away we went, and he swam, then we went to the carnival where they had all sorts of hallowe'en carnival rides. The best part was glow in the dark golf. For you see, between his black mask and red glowing eyes, he can't see squat. And the "glow in the dark" part of gold was led rods that lit the path. The balls nor the clubs glowed and the lights were out. So he hit the ball and then had to kneel on the floor to find it before he could hit it again saying "I can't find my ball! I can't find my ball!" It was the funniest thing I watched all day.

After the carnival games, we went to the chocolate extravaganza and then we went through the haunted house. All done by 4. Except Jamie wanted to stay for the REALLY haunted house at 5. So after killing an hour ( no pun intended), we went through the house again, this time with the lights out and yes at various points, Jamie and I both got scared.

And that was the most perfect date day for Jamie and I......we both agree!

Governing One's self

I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine around politics. And the topic of governing one's self and moral character came up. We were talking of the my taking issue with the issue with the moral character of politicians and how, if they cannot govern themselves, then I am leary of them governing a country.

That thought led to others. The primary one being that despite the fact that we do it every day, we have no right to attempt to "govern" the life of another individual. For no one knows their experience better than they. Even I, as a therapist, do not attempt to govern the lives of my clients. I may see things they don't see. I may offer suggestions they might be unaware of, but everything and anything I suggest is a hypothesis and the free will to choose to go where I lead or test what I suggest remains in the hands of the clients.

It truly is a gift and an honor to be handed the pain of others and trusted with it. And it's not something that I take lightly. And yet, how many politicians, lose the gravity of the position that they hold. The act negligently within their own lives, and for me that calls into question their ability to act with integrity in the position of power that they hold,

And yet how many of us do the same? How many of us, choose to turn a blind eye to our own shortcomings and instead focus on the shortcomings of others, likely without any depth of knowledge as to that person's experience or their reasonings. And yet we stand, upon our moral high horse, and scrutinize and call into question and judgement, the lives and decisions of others while purposefully and blindly turning away from our own.

You see....I am not fit to govern someone else's life. I need to ensure that first and foremost I walk my own with integrity.

Food for thought.......

Missy's day!

Poor lovely beautiful darling girl, deserved to spend the whole day with Mom. She has been craving and asking for it for-ever. And the day finally came. She slept in my bed and we were up and at 'em in the morning. We threw the camera in the car so we could pictorally record our day! After a Starbux run, because there was no coffee in the house we were off. We took the Sumas crossing which gave us a border wait of 25 minutes as opposed to 90. Missy took the significant pictures until the border (ie-oru starbux run and the border) and then once over EVERYTHING was documented. Including American horses, which, if you didn't know, are different than Canadian horses. So on our drive we heard a news story about a man being arrested in Canada for housing 5 different firearms. When questioned why, he answered because the elves were stalking him. In all honesty, this guy believed in elves......AND believed they were stalking him.

So, I reiterated this to Missy. Her response? Well Mom, the only elves that are real are Santa's elves. If there were any elves that were stalking him it would be them and they are only checking to see if he has been good or bad!

I laughed...........really laughed.........out loud.......long and hard.

That was a priceless moment and one I won't forget!!!

So we carried on down to Burlington Outlets where we found the Lulu Lemon factory outlet. My little girl has been craving a Lulu  Lemon hoodie because you see 990% of the girls in her class own Lulu Lemon stuff. Now normally I am NOT the mother who gets sucked into name brands, but I also remember being the young girl who had ALL of her clothes handed down to me, and how that made me the laughing stock of the grade 7 population.

I remember one horrific event where I had to wear these boots that were handed down to me, had to wear them because of the rain.....the torment I lived during that year has still scarred me

So I found her a Lulu Lemon hoodie that she ADORES for a price I could justify.  While at Burlington, we checked out a few more shops. Not the extent of checking that I wanted to do but I didn't have money so I didn't want to put myself in the way of temptation.

We left Burlington and headed toward Bellis Fair and Missy kept on with her photojournalism. After getting a quick bite, we wandered around the mall, hit a few stores that I needed to hit and then headed back to home. Once home we had a quick easy dinner and curled up and watched three movies before we crawled into bed.

Missy's thoughts on the day?

IT WAS PERFECT!!!!!

walking dead

Well...it's been awhile since I posted and to be honest, I am doing a double posting today. It's been a crazy week. Last wednesday, I sstepped on a nail which garnered me a trip to ER. Two days and two more nails later I got into an accident. So far estimated damage is 7500.00.

 BUT........anyway.....I wa talking to a colleague of mine and the topic of anticipatory grief came up. Anticipatory grief is a grief state that happens when one is anticipating the death of a loved one who is pronounced terminal but the death has yet to occur.

In ou conversations along this vein, I put forth the metaphor of walking dead. For you see, I am the walking dead. I am alive.....kicking.....screaming......and walking and yet I am dead.

For certain people that once were close to me, I no longer exist. We run into each other from time to time, we see each other, and we hear of each other...and yet I am walking dead to them. I no longer exist, nor factor into their lives to such an extent that I may as well be dead. When we "accidentally" cross paths, it is as if, I, was not in the room let alone having been born.

So I walk dead............I am the walking dead.........

Some thoughts

....and please, if you fit the bill in what I will be beginning to describe, please do not take offense as I am in no way trying to minimize your experience....

Now.....I have a number of friends on my list that have gone through trials, some are currently going through them. I think of the ones that have faced and are facing cancer. I think of those that have lost children. I have read their stories and for some I know their stories. I have witnessed and heard the heart wrenching pain that they are in and have lived and many times, as I read or hear their stories, their pain, I shed tears of empathy for them....

and yet....

My story is different and yet the same. But my story is "seen" by the outside world differently. My story is one where I am the purported to be the cause and therefore, my story does not elicit empathetic looks or words of encouragement or support.

As I write this I think of my children, two of which have been diagnosed as dual exceptional children. And this is where the kicker comes in. People (not all mind you,) tend to focus on the exceptional part and think that because my children have intelligence then my life must be easy. "Your kids are smart, what do you have to worry about?", "well at least you know your kids will succeed!", "Quit whining, you have it made! Your kids will succeed in life!" and yet that is only half the story...

Yes my kids are smart. In fact my kids are gifted. But there is what I call the dark side of giftedness, the dual part of exceptionality. The two identified kids have also been diagnosed with a disability. But people choose not to see that part. Unlike my friends I referred to earlier, learning disabilities are not something you wear....its not seen......they are invisible for the most part.....unlike an illness...and therefore is not understood and not "excused." In fact, if my kids "act up" as a result of said disability, it is seen as poor parenting and I get tagged as a poor excuse for a parent. And any normal (or decent) parent, would be able to control her children so what kind of white trash are you? Trust me, I have heard all of this, and I have heard it from people in positions of authority as well.

This is the dark side, the side that no one sees, and no one chooses to understand. Rather they focus on what they think they know, or what they choose to interpret based on a label without delving further to really understand what it is that is going on. If my children had an illness, I would be seen differently and subsequently they would be seen differently. I would be seen as a mother, whose children got struck with something difficult and people would choose to rally around me. But instead I get seen as white trash parenting because people make judgments on what they think they see, what they choose to see or what they choose to understand or not understand.

When in fact the case is such that my children's brains, paired with their experiences has caused biological alterations which cause them to act and react in ways that most people cannot comprehend. It has caused deficits in certain areas that make learning what some might consider simple skills to be tantamount to a baby learning trigonometry.

However, because they don't wear something that people can connect with, because they aren't sick with something that people can relate to, we all get put under a different microscope. One whose light is incredibly harsh and unforgiving. It seems that because my children do not wear their disability on their person's and because people choose to focus on the giftedness people hold them to entirely different standards....most of which are unfair....

So perhaps, next time, when you see a mother or father, wrestling with a child's behaviour, stop and think that just maybe they have an invisible illness, for I am certain that if it were a child with a readily seen physical illness, you just might think about the whole scenario differently.....

Aug 19, 1995

so fifteen years ago, I got married. Today is my wedding anniversary for a marriage that I no longer have although am not divorced from....

So many hopes I had had, young and naive as I was and today I should be celebrating 15 years but instead I am remembering dreams died.......

Grampa

It's been 1.5 years since Grampa passed, two this October. Due to unfavorable circumstances, I was denied my opportunity to say Good-bye. I love my Grampa dearly. Many times, I recall, even into my adulthood, I would climb onto my Grampa's lap, he would put his arm around me and kiss me. Again, due to circumstances, I was nearly denied attending my Grampa's funeral and memorial. I miss him dearly and for whatever reason, today, Grampa is prominent in my mind.

So many things I would say to him, should I have been given the chance. First and foremost, sorry Grampa for taking you for granted, for not attending and pouring into your life as I wish I did. and thank you, thank you for loving me, and last but not least "I love you Grampa, more than you know and even realize! So much so I wish I could go back and undo things. I wish I could sit and your lap and hear your stories. I wish for one more time that I could on your lap with your arms around me. I just wish for more......

12 Years old

This is Missy when she was between 1 and 2 years old. Yesterday we celebrated her 12th birthday. I remember the day she was born. I, in fact, remember the whole birthing procedure. How thrilled I was to have a girl! Something I had wanted my entire life. I had always wanted to be a mom and a mommy of a girl and 12 years ago that dream, that wish, came true. And there she is.

Now 12 years later, she still is my baby girl and I love her more as I watch her grow into an amazing young woman. This picture was taken yesterday and her surprise birthday. When Missy was three, she sat on Santa's lap and asked him for a horse. Little did he know.....she meant a real one. Thinking it was very cute and wanting to get into her brain, I asked her....."where would we keep it?" Her response.."on our patio...." and so I continued.."what would we feed it?" her quick and emphatic reply...."hamburgers..." She like them so why shouldn't a horse, right? And so began her dream that hasn't yet died...to own a horse. Well I am not made of money and to date that dream has been something that I have not been able to make come true...... However, last night I sort of did. Last night for her birthday I planned a surprise and outdid myself if I do say so. I booked us for an hour long trail ride, but I didn't tell her. So she asked what we were doing for her birthday and I told her, we were going to eat out (like we always do). So we started driving. Then as we got closer, I pulled over and blindfolded her. And we continued to drive. When she asked about the blind fold I told her that it was because we were going to a new restaurant and I wanted to surprise her. So away we went. We pulled up and I got her out of the car, blind fold intact and then I stepped back with my camera ready and told her she could take off the blind fold. This was her expression:

When our trail guide saw her  expression he actually laughed out loud. It was quite a sight to see. After our hour long trail ride, we went out to eat at Montana's keeping in theme of course. And of course the presents were western oriented. So maybe I haven't been able to give my little princess her horse, but I did give her a horse for a day and for one day, I managed to make her dream come true.

Watching her grow is something else. My neighbor just commented that she is looking more like me with each passing day. That, neither of us see, and we will both vehemently defend that position. But what I do know is that, she is growing into a stellar young lady and it won't be long before she quite easily passes me. I can't wait to watch these next few years and watch exactly where her road takes her..... She has great things in store for her and she will see success for she follows her heart and that won't fail her......

And this sums up her day!

Dreams

I'm at home, on Canada Day, alone with no kids. What that means is that my mind has time and space to do some reflecting. For many years, my dreams have been filled with horror....the ones I remember anyway. And the ones that I didn't remember? Well they may have been good but to be honest, I can't tell you because I don't remember....  ;-p

So dreams. There are many different psychological stances on dreams, and many different ways to interpret dreams. Many of the famous psychologists have some sort of stance on dreams but what they boil down to is that dreams are our mind's way of processing things.

However, that specific mechanism breaks down in the face of repeated and prolonged exposure to trauma. And this is where the interesting point for me comes in. What I have noticed from my own experience is this: after processing and dealing with trauma, those natural mechanisms we have that are built into us, experience something of a resurrection. They come back to life in a manner of speaking.

To clarify this point. On Tuesday, I had a particularly upsetting experience that spilled over into Wednesday. This experience impacted me to the degree that it brought me to the point of tears on a number of different occasions which in turn led me to have conversations with both of my supervisor's in order to gain clarification and processing.  So some closure was brought to this situation as of last night.

Through the night, I woke up with two different dreams. As I reflected on these dreams, the themes that were evident were directly tied to my experience. The theme in the first dream was that of vulnerability and attack. Said experience was a mix of my feeling both vulnerable and attacked. The second dream was a move toward competence and empowerment. After having lived through part two of this experience and coming out of it, as well as processing it on a verbal level with my supervisor's, my brain had the resources to go back through the experience and bring the closure and processing of competence back. The verbal processing helped in the immediate. The second dream dealt with the inner and emotional processing so that I don't continue to sit in and live in the trauma of that experience.

Dreams are very cool things and if we keep our eye on them have the ability to tell us a world of things about ourselves. Pay attention to your dreams..........you never know what you will find!

Missy's Scholarship!

So today marks the end of another school year in my household. My kids have all successfully completed their respective years. Jeff, firstborn and brilliant, finished his first year of high school with amazing success. It was quite an overwhelming experience to be sure. Prior to his grade 9 year the student count in his previous school was 200 all told in grades K-8. This year his student count in grades 9-12 is 1400. Quite a jump to get used, never mind the new routine of switching classrooms, using a locker, eating in a cafeteria, all the high school things. All told he has had a successful year, developed new friends interests and managed quite well.

Jamie....the monkey, the ham of the family who has decided he shall now be known as Ponyboy (thanks outsiders). In fact, he gets his knickers in quite a knot if I forget to call him Ponyboy. And yet, he still is my little man, who prefers to be snuggled up in arms whenever he gets the chance. This one is all-boy mind you. And has decided that he owns every sport in the world. His exuberance for life are only met by his soft, gentle sweet spirit which endears all to him.


This leaves my little princess, Missy who I get to brag on about right now. Missy has tended to always slip into the background, let others grab the limelight and quietly go about her business, rarely making her needs known, and far to often abdicating her desires in favor of others. She too, is a tender soul and this is manifested in her concern and heartbreak for the pain of others-both human and animal. Well today my princess got to be honored. I was at her year end chapel and she successfully pulled out a B average all year round making honorable mention. For those of you who have walked with me, this is all despite her learning disability and her anxiety levels. Additionally, as I am sure most of you have noticed on my FB, she is constantly placing and works extremely hard at her Highland Dance. In addition, today she was recognized for being on various teams at school including Badminton, ultimate frisbee and the Dowel Dance team that danced at city hall. But the best thing of all, was the award that was kept a surprise.

Every year the school awards two scholarships. These scholarships go toward a summer sports camp. The reason for the scholarship is for the student who shows exemplary  Christ like behaviors and attitudes throughout their entire sports year. So.............THAT WAS MISSY!!!!!!!!! We have a scholarship now, toward a sports camp of her choosing. She was awarded this because that gentle sweet spirit that I referred to earlier has shone through during every team practice and game that she has participated in over the year not only to her own team-mates but to team members of the opposing teams.

Poor Missy was shocked when her name was called and she is flabbergasted still with what this all means. And for once my beautiful girl got to be formerly recognized for all that she does and for the sweet heart and spirit that she carries with her. I am so proud of you, my love!!!!! And most of all, YOU DESERVE THIS!!!!!

PS-As one of my friends made mention: I appear to have a triple threat on my hands *giggles*






<-- Missy hearing her name called for the scholarship!

Receiving the scholarship from Mr. Schiemann ->

And still in shock that she won it! I found out after that all the teachers and staff sat around a table and assessed every child who competed in sports this year. Missy won this with a unanimous vote by all the staff at her school!

Empty Heart, Empty Arms

So two days ago marks a 4 year anniversary for me. And to be honest, it is a bittersweet one. Four years ago, I set out on a path that changed my life, at the time it was a good decision.  And it still is a good decision, what makes it bittersweet is that I am not where I picture myself. Four years ago, as I set on this journey, I imagined finishing up my grad school education with a degree in front of me. Well, due to other circumstances, that is put off for another year. Four years ago, I pictured having a significant other in my life, likely being married and hopefully onto, or at least planning on, finishing my family. And yet, that too remains elusive.....hard to see your dreams and goals crumble.

What makes this more poignant and difficult, is that there is a slew of friends on my fb, that have either just had babies, are having babies or are getting married. Additionally, there are friends who have been going through difficult life circumstances, and save a few, most of them have found resolution and have been brought out of that desert season, something I desperately long for, but something that seems more and more remote with each passing day. I joke (not so much) that I am living on an expiration date here and that date is fast approaching.

So where does this leave me? Begging, crying, screaming and having an all out argument with God as to where my inheritance is? And where is my destiny? You promised me a rich and abundant life God, and so far that is not here. You know I seek You, You know how much I long to hear You, and yet, repeatedly it feels like You turn a deaf ear and a blind eye to my cries.

My heart breaks, daily now, in fact minute by minute I feel one more piece breaking off. I'm frantic to gather the tiniest pieces up, to hold them, save them, set them aside for a time when I can put the pieces back together and yet they slip away and out of my reach. I can no longer put this heart back together and so I watch helplessly, despairingly as the pieces break and fall away.

Where is my hope Lord, where are my promises? Why are they not coming true and how can you ask more of me when there is nothing left save an empty heart and empty arms.....where once I held my hope and dreams......

Giving thanks

So........I have been pondering this concept lately and I think that we as a society are remiss. If you are expecting a lovely little philosophical blog today move on. This is about my ranting.  We just finished the May long weekend. The first taste of Spring for those of us here in Vancouver. Many people get out to celebrate and enjoy life. They throw barbeques or parties, they get together with friends, the go shopping...all sorts of lovely things. 

So over the course of the weekend I have been watching facebook statuses. And here's what I have come up with. People are selfish and need to stop whining and be thankful for what they have.

I saw fb statuses whining about iphones and absent husbands and free time and prices in Mexico. Well I challenge you to stop. Perhaps instead of whining about all those things, you should be thankful that you have an iphone, and a husband and free time to shop and  money to shop and money to BE in Mexico. There are many that cannot afford rent let alone an iphone, many whose deepest desires are to have a husband, many who haven't had a vacation in as long as they can remember, and many who wear used clothing because they can't afford new.

So I want to challenge you: next time you feel like whining about something, turn it around and instead be thankful you have what you were going to whine about in the first place.

Nicknames

I have recently been struck, with how important nicknames are for children. As I think back on my own life, wishing I had had a nickname, and reflect on how my children cry out for a nickname, it becomes apparent, just how important it is. Upon further pondering, it becomes obvious as to why: every child want to feel important, every child wants to feel that they truly are something special, that they are set apart from the others. I have had nicknames for my children but.....I think I have found the ones that fit. Jeffrey was my firstborn, he was my little bud.........or buddy.....and it fit. So he remains my Bud. Missy was my kitten......when she was a baby she made a sound that was very akin to a purring sound so she became my kitten.......and she loves it although it interchanges with my princess. Now Jamie.....he has been a few different things. First he was my little man:

Then he became Ponyboy:

Because of this:

and by far Ponyboy is his favorite. So now I have it, two of my three children have two nicknames, and one has one and that is how I affectionately refer to them because it sets them apart from each other and it means the world to them!

It's Going to be Alright

My girlfriend posted this on her blog this morning and so I am going to do the same (here), although we blog from differing perspectives. I have an anniversary of sorts coming up in a month. It will be four years. As this day looms in front of me, I remember the life changing decision that I made. I remember the angst, the constant battle, the act of walking out onto my own plank, closing my eyes, and jumping, not knowing who, if anyone, would catch me. As I wrestled in the dark with all the unknowns of what my future lay, and how I would take the next step, terror gripped my soul. And yet, it wasn't just terror. It was something akin to hope, that things finally might be shifting. I had dreams of where I saw myself and where I am today, is not where I saw myself.

At that moment, when things looked as bleak as they could get, I did what seemed to be the impossible. For you see, in that bleakness, shone a silver glimmer, ever so tiny, ever so threadbare, but there it sat. That shimmering sliver was a hope for my future. And yet, now here I sit, four years later and.........

None of the dreams I held as I made that decision, have really come to pass. Sure there are some that look like they are just around the corner, but if my life has taught me one thing, it has taught me this: don't count on anything until it is in your hands. That lesson has been pounded into the very fibre of my being in the past 6 months. For you see, there was some thing that I had held hope in, some thing that I had counted on and it fell apart, and then I picked up the pieces hoped in it again and it fell apart, This happened about four-five times in total. What did I learn? Don't hope.

So today I sit here, with some anniversaries looming ahead of me. Without the hope that forced my steps, slowly coming to a reconciliation of what life will entail in my future. It looks bleak. This time? No shimmering sliver.    Just desolate.    Bleak.      Empty.    Void.

Mother's Day!

What a wonderful day! Honor and celebrate the wonderful woman in the world whom you call MOM. And if you are a Mom, be honoured and celebrated for all the things you do. Nice concept isn't it?

Yet, for me, those things don't happen today. For you see I sit in a position of being estranged from my mom. We don't talk. The details are too numerous and convoluted to begin to explain why. Irregardless of what those reasons are, I know that this was something that had to be. Does it make it easy? Nope. Just because it had to happen doesn't make it easier to deal with. That does not make this day any less painful. It's a weird situation to be in, for in one sense this is a situation of the living dead. She is alive and breathing and carrying on with her life, but dead in my existence. In counseling we have a term for it, it's called ambiguous loss. And to be honest ambiguous loss is far harder to deal with for I need to, and have had to deal with grieving this loss but there really isn't closure on it. When we think of someone dying, we grieve but there is a sense of finality to it for that person is no longer alive. But such is not the situation for me because the person that I grieve, lives and breathes and interacts with my siblings...... So I cannot really bring closure to this. Think of it this way, this wound remains open and bleeding despite all attempts to stem the flow.

So, as if that weren't enough. Mothers day is a day to celebrate and for intact families, that happens at the behest of dad. He gets it and usually elicits the kids to plan something special for mom. But guess what? No dad here. So no one to take the kids by the hand and plan a breakfast, no one to cook the dinner, no one to gather everyone together and lead the herd to have a great day out doing wonderful things. Once again, it comes down to ME, and solely ME. I have had to plan something, some way for the kids to think they and mom had a great day. Not only that, but I have to deal with breaking up the fights of the kids and cleaning up their messes etc etc.

So for all you moms who have a husband who has planned a great day for you, and for all you daughters who had the privilege of honoring and thanking your mother, be grateful and remember the blessings that you have, for their are those of us out there that have netiher....

dreams

Hmm...not even quite sure where to start this blog. I kept myself from dreaming for a long, long time. Sure I had things I wanted but this seemed to be so remote so far away so dream-like....thus the title dreams I suppose......so that is where they stayed....far in the sky away from me...for they would never come true.....

The root of that is quite easy to discern....it's a matter of not believing that i am good enough to have those dreams come true.....

And in walks Mr. Life Coach. I have spoken of him. And Mr. Life Coach has decided to steadfastly prove me wrong. And Mr. Life Coach has steadfastly decided that I am worth good and beautiful dreams and gosh darn it if he wasn't going to make me believe it......

And........he did........

For a time........

For a time I did believe it.............

But then no movement happened......

But I hoped and hoped.......

Til hope died.....

Which leaves me back where I started....

Not believing in dreams for surely they disappoint.....

Abundant Inheritance?????? Part Two

So awhile ago, I blogged about abundant inheritance.....and now I sit here and rethink. I know that I had attributed that to the spot that I was in, I really believed at that time, that God was finally looking down on me, and the hell that has been my life, the faithfulness (albeit full of many times of doubt, many arguments, many questions and many temper tantrums) and decided to honor that. Dreams, longings, hopes, desires that I have had in my heart for as long as I could remember, appeared to be coming true. I appeared to be on the brink of things.

And now, I sit and I wonder. Things don't seem to be panning out quite as I had expected. They don't seem to be materializing how I had foreseen. So I'm sure as you read this, you are thinking, what's one upset? What on earth? She's making a mountain out of a molehill. But here's the kicker. This is the the fourth time that this happened. The fourth time in this same situation that I have been disappointed, been let down and been left to question and wonder.

Each time that this has happened, I have picked myself, dusted myself off, reached deeper down than I thought was possible and attempted to restore my hope and faith. Keep in mind, before you pass judgment, the circumstances in the aforementioned situation are beyond my control as well as the control of the other parties involve. None of this could be foreseen, and had it been foreseen, none of it could be avoided. But nonetheless, the emotions that manifest remain the same.

So hoe does one proceed? Do I continue to wait? If so how long before i admit I am being played for a fool? Do I cut and run? If so, how do I manage what I know will be overwhelming emotion? Is this God, calling me to trust him? If so, what do I do with the doubt, the fear?

Is it my abundant inheritance??? or have I just been played for the fool one more time? How do you live in a place like this? How do you walk the line between faith and doubt between disbelief and belief? Do you hope or turn off?

Abundant Inheritance

So, it's been a long time since I left my ex and started my journey toward healing and these are some thoughts along the way. When I left, it was more than just leaving a bad situation. It turned into a healing journey, both from the effects of that relationship and I think maybe moreso, from patterns and paradigms which had formulated into a false concept of my identity.

There were a number of people that were integral in this healing, these people who started as my church have become my family. They saw my true identity and they were intentional about calling it out in me. They were intentional about holding my hand in the various moments of grieving and gently pushing/puling me on toward my destiny.

Part of this process for me, was learning and understanding my identity and what comes with that. Do I have this concept down pat? Is it solidly within the deepest recesses of me yet? Nope! But I am getting there. For instance I am beginning believe that I do deserve good things better yet, i deserve the best of things and this boils down to one reason: I am a King's daughter and as such the inheritance that I get from my Daddy is abundant beyond my wildest dreams.

That is what I get simply because I am a King's Kid. The amazing thing about my inheritance is I don't have to wait til the King dies to live in my inheritance for the required death has already happened. Which means I get to live in my inheritance now.....and this inheritance is turning out to be far more abundant than I had even in my wildest dreams thought possible.

For you see, I am sitting on the crux of a situation which sees the realization of these dreams. Ah...correction, the dreams I had and hold pale in comparison to what lay before me.

An inheritance of abundance....

15 years ago....

I was a scared 20 yr. old girl with a newborn embarking on a life that I had high hopes for. After 12 hours of labour I held my first born in my arms and knew life would not be the same. Little did I know. I had a beautifully perfect gift from heaven whom I named Jeffrey. I loved him to death, as many did and as many have. Those that know my boy do....it's hard not to....his heart is amazing despite everything that has happened in his young life.

Two days after his beautiful being came into this world, Jeffrey got sick. I woke up on a Thursday morning, the day we were supposed to go home. His dad walked into my room with the car seat, all prepared to take us home. I looked at him.........my words......."we aren't going home....."

The next week was a hell I would not wish on my worst enemy. For you see, Jeff and I woke up....both he and I were covered in a mustard yellow puss, as was the bed.....upon discovery i was able to determine that it was pouring out of boils from the crown of his head. A sight that is burned in my brain.

I called the nurses station, they sent someone immediately. That nurse didn't know what was going on. They immediately got my GP there. He didn't know. By now....they have taken my baby and no one could tell me why.

Two pediatricians later.....no one knows what is wrong. The result? Jeffrey doesn't get to come home but I have to go.  They refuse to let me be with my baby. What have they done with him? Where did he go?

To special care nursery. And not only did he go there, he went into the isolation room. He was too sick. We were not allowed to be with the other babies. And they could still not tell us what was wrong.

So began the tests. A spinal tap that didn't take so that called for a second spinal tap. It put him in so much pain they refused to let me be present....both times. Then ran the heart monitor, and the seven medications, each one ran four times a day.

Next in came the photographer......with a camera and a ring flash ( a flash that circled the edge of the lens). I was asked to hold Jeffrey so that his face was against my chest. Then once positioned, I was asked to turn my head and look away........why?????  Well the flash was so bright it would blind me should I look.

Then began the endless days of waiting, the endless hours in the pumping room so that my son had the best source of nourishment in the world. I had so much milk stored I could have fed a few babies. And the days of leaving the hospital at 1 or 2 am and returning at 5 or 6 am. The long days of holding him, loving him as best I could, never knowing if he would be there the next day, never knowing if this hug would be the last, never knowing if this would be the last time I would look on his face, kiss his forehead, smell him, love on him, hold him, never knowing if tomorrow when i wake up, if he would still be there.

I was envious of the other mothers in the NICU for at least they knew what was wrong and they knew a prognosis. I was not given that luxury. Maybe....if i left him for four hours....just maybe....when I came back....he would be dead. That nightmare, that possibility haunted me everytime I was away from him, even if it was just to go the bathroom.

The fear gripped my heart. The days pass in a blur. And those days set the pattern for my life with Jeffrey. Just as I fought for his life then, I do now on a daily basis.

Then came the day of glorious news.....or so I thought. My baby, my son....had developed strep/staff from sitting in the birth canal for so long. How did that happen? Well I was a carrier. I made him sick. I nearly killed my boy........

So, a week after we were supposed to, we went home. A glorious day! and then it happened. The guilt set in. I nearly killed my son. I was responsible. For had I not been a carrier, Jeff would have not been sick. He would have had a good start to life. But I, ME, HIS MOTHER, nearly killed him.

Not something you can outlive. Especially when your son looks at you and says I hate you! My mind goes back. And it tells me,,,,,"he has every right to hate you, you nearly killed him!" And so somewhere I made a promise to him, to not let anything hurt him ever again.

Well if you know anything about parenting that was something of an ill made promise to myself. You cannot raise your children in a bubble. However, that said, I have fought for this boy tooth and nail. And many, many times it looked very hopeless. And then.....

I woke up one morning to a 15 year old....and you know what? As it turns out he is a pretty amazing young man. Sure he has some troubling areas but then again we all do. But looking at this young man that lives in my house, well I am pretty proud of who he is becoming. As we spend his last few years together, I make another promise to myself....cherish every moment that I have left with him. I remember back when he crawled up on my lap, sobbing uncontrollably because he realized that if growing up meant moving out of my house. And how that devastated him, he didn't want to leave his mommy.....

Well this weekend, he left his mommy. Not so much in an 'move out of the house' manner but most certainly in a 'first time to the movies with a buddy and not mom' manner. So that little boy who sobbed uncontrollably on my lap for fear of growing up and moving out, took that first step toward that very same goal.  He survived....me? not so much!

But over above all, despite the forces that would see otherwise, I think that I have raised what is turning into an amazing young man. So to Jeff: know this, I love you dearly and would never withhold anything back that is in my power to give you, so long as it lies within your best interest. I love you and I couldn't be happier or more proud that God saw fit for me to be your mother and lent you to me.

Happy Birthday Jeff.

An Enigma Wrapped Up in an Anomaly

Alright, as any good psychology student before we get into the meat of this, we need to define our terms.

Dictionary.com defines enigma as a person of puzzling or contradictory character.

Further more Dictionary.com defines anomaly as:
 an inconsistency or incongruity

Some of you may have heard me say this, in fact I KNOW that some of you have. Within the last year or so, I have begun to refer to myself as an enigma wrapped up in an anomaly. So if we go by our definitions that means, I am a person of puzzling or contradictory character wrapped up in inconsistency or incongruity. What a mouthful. And yet...

For many years, in fact for 32 of my 36 years, I was the person who shaped herself into what those around her either wanted or demanded. If people wanted something, I became it. For you see, life taught me early on that my worth was in what I could do or provide for people. But, as everyone is different, that changed. I became something of a shape shifter. Whatever shape was demanded or desired but the people that I was currently in company with was what I became. The result is, I lost who I was in the process.

That seems to be something of an oxymoron. How could I lose myself if I have previously identified myself as being something akin to a shape shifter? Well, here's the kicker. When you continually become whatever someone else wants you to be, you end up not knowing who YOU are because you end up being so many things.

BUT...........

Since my split, I have been able to discover who I am. So who is that you ask? And rightfully so. Well, who I am is almost undefinable. I cannot find words for it here, if I could I would write them to you. But what I do know is this. Life taught me to be many things to many different people and often times those things either a) don't make sense to anyone but me and/or, b) don't make sense in the day to day world. I think differently. That has been identified by many people. I have insight and wisdom that most cannot comprehend. This is not to prideful or arrogant, it is what has been identified in me by external sources. I see things differently therefore I react differently. And oftentimes, it puzzles people and they are left to wondering how and why to make sense of it all. What may work in one situation, may not, or likely will not, work in another situation, given the context differs. No two people or situations are the same which means that things could be diametrically opposite but the same thing.

Because of this, people can't make sense of me and often question me. And yet, if they choose to sit with me awhile and listen to what I have to say with an open mind and willing to set aside their preconceived notions, they may find that I make sense.

It's an odd conundrum to be me. I sit in a position where I am seen as being puzzling and inconsistent. But you know what? I am ok with that. I am ok with being an enigma wrapped up in an anomaly.  And you know why? Because I can finally be me. It's been a fight to be me, no it has been an all out war. There have been many decisions that I know in my deepest recesses that have been right but because they did not fall into the norm they were not only questioned but openly and brazenly attacked with the goal of undermining my credibility. It has cost me a ton, to be me. In fact, I have lost what most cannot fathom. Was it worth it? You tell me......would the freedom to be yourself, in all your faults and in all your amazing qualities be worth it? Would the freedom to be who you were destined to be without fear of judgment be worth it? Can you put a price tag on that?

I can. It cost me my reputation. It almost cost me my career. For a time, it cost me my children. It cost me the faces of those I love (d?).  It cost me pain unfathomed as I looked around me and came to the conclusion that what remained was God and me. It cost me anguish untold. It cost me tears, sleepless nights, days of living in fear for what was around the next corner, it cost me peace for the years I had none, it cost me lonely dark nights in the depths of unrelenting despair, it cost me nights of lying awake while tears soaked my pillow and brought warmth to my body, it  cost me days of hypervigilance, it cost me constantly checking over my shoulder for what might materialize, it cost me a near breaking of my spirit and an unrelenting invasion of my soul.

Step back, be objective, would that be worth it to you? And yet, those words above are a paltry description of toll it has cost me. So, in all the inferiorness of the words described above, would it be worth it to you? I cannot answer that for you, only you can.

I can tell you one thing, from this perspective it was worth it. In the moment? Not on your life. The pain felt unbearable. I thought it would kill me. It nearly did. The utter complete and desolating loss of what my world consisted of, the only me I knew, all gone at the stroke of one hand. And yet, had that stroke not occurred, had those events not happened, I would remain unaware of who I am.

And yet, on this side of it, it was worth it. Don't get me wrong, I have my moments, when I wish things were different, when I wish the loss was not so great, when the cross was not so heavy to carry. But it has allowed me this: it has allowed me to find me, to be me, and to discover that miracle of all miracles, I can be loved.

So where does that put me. It continually frames me as an enigma wrapped up in an anomaly. I don't make sense to people and that's ok by me. Because bottom line is that, for once, i am being true to being me.

So if being an enigma wrapped up n anomaly is what defines me, then I love it, for finally this enigma wrapped up in an anomaly is finally being true to who she is.

Take it or leave it, it is ME

What Canada means to me

 

Ok. So as horrible as this sounds, I was somewhat hesitant to throw my support behind the Olympics at the beginning of the year. I see a lot of different areas that our taxpayer dollars could have done. Therefore, my support began somewhat reticent. And as the days got closer I figured I wouldn't be watching a lot of the games. I had other things to do. 

Then it happened.

The opening ceremonies. It was while I was watching the opening ceremonies that a stirring inside me began. I became a little bit more proud to be a Canadian. Then as the days wore on, the patriotism that was inside me, reared its head. See, I have always envied the states their patriotism. You don't see it readily displayed here and so largely we are unaware that it even exists. But it stirred and as the Olympic days wore on, it stirred more and more. I went to some events. I took the kids downtown. And I can sit here and honestly say that I am glad I did.

Then today came. The ultimate teller. THE GAME OF ALL GAMES! Men's hockey for the gold. And who do we verse? But the states. I felt quite calm going into the game. Midway through when others were freaking at the intensity, I was calm. I was texting with a buddy in TO who NEVER watches hockey. Well he chose to watch this game, and he was a nervous wreck. I think I turned him into a hockey fan! What a game to become addicted on. LOL

So third period midway through we are sitting 2-1 I still was quite calm, thinking: "this is our game and they will not take this from us." Five minutes left, the intensity was hitting me and I started to become on the verge of tears as the intensity heated up. I knew that when that final buzzer went, I would cry. And then the unthinkable. The last 24 seconds of the game and they scored!

I was in shock! I didn't believe what I just witnessed. And now my heart was beating and pulsating like never before. Intermission. OT period starts. Seven minutes in, Crosby scores! I cried.

For you see, for me this was not simply a hockey game. This was not Canada breaking Olympic records. This was not about our victory. This, for me, was about Canada. Canada came together. We put whatever differences we may have aside and we came together in all our glorious patriotism and we did this!

That is what makes us Canadian. That is what distinguishes us. We may not go around and ram our country down the throats of others. We are far to well-mannered and gracious to do that. But when we want to, we exhibit our glorious patriotism for our wonderful country. Many amazing words have been spoken about Canada, including the gentleman from the opening ceremony who declared "We are More!" and I believe that.

Canada is More!. We are in some ways set apart from other countries. The fact that we can set aside our differences, for they are their within this country, and we can all pull together under one banner: the love or our Red and White. 

I heard it best from an announcer at the women's two man bobsled race. East and West came together and brought us the gold!!!

So, Canada, I salute you! Thank you for being a part of these glorious moments with me. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of them with you. Thank you for granting me the honor of being able to say I AM CANADIAN. For never in history have better words been spoken. 

Canada: I salute you and I AM CANADIAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hope Disappoints

So right now I am sitting in the Wong Centre at my university waiting to meet a girl. I spent the entire drive in pondering hope. Now if we were to look up God's concept it would be that we place our hope in Him and therefore that hope will not disappoint. Why? Because God will not disappoint us. And even if we think He will or did, He always has something better up His sleeve for us. Something that we maybe cannot picture at this point.

So here's where I am stuck. I have a life of hope disappointed. Granted, partly my fault as I place my hope in earthly things/people as opposed to my Heavenly Father. Nonetheless, it is what it is. My experience tells me hope does disappoint. So what have I done? Well, in a number of areas, I have become resigned. I have spoken about this with a few girlfriends of mine. For so many many years in my life, hope has disappointed and so now I no longer hope. Instead, I turned hope off and became resigned. Not bitter, not angry, not resentful, just resigned. Not sure which is worse, for with anger there is still fuel to the fire. With resignation, there's nothing really....

BIG PROBLEM!!!!!!!  I have a situation here, where potentially many dreams of mine, those that I have held onto since I was a tot, may come true. Operational word being MAY. So what do I do? I want to hope, and yet I am terrified to do so. Why? Let's recall that when I hope...it disappoints. So if I hope, it feels like I am setting myself up for disappointment. Can I do that one more time? Can I hope that these dreams might just possibly become a reality for me? There's a lot at stake if I do. And to be honest, if they don't come to pass, I'm not entirely sure I could recover from that. I'm not entirely convinced that I could pick up the once more shattered pieces of my heart that by now are surely unrecognizeable (sp???) and figure out how to put them all back together again. I'm not even convinced they could BE put back together again.

Now of course the Christian answer is: put your hope and trust and faith in God. Yes...I get that...but....me and God are on a learning curve here. I know in my head that if this doesn't come to pass, then God has something better in store for me. Trust me, I have heard the answers all my life. Problem again: my head and heart don't always match up with what they know.

Many people reading this will say: "you can do it, you are strong enough to get through this one..." Maybe that's so. Maybe I could. I know I will survive. I have three beautiful, amazing creatures whom God saw fit to gift to me, for their sake I will survive, I'm just concerned as to the state I will be in when I walk out the other side. If I am resigned now....where would that leave me then?

So I sit here and contemplate my options...hope and maybe trust along with that. Or shut things down now. That doesn't seem a feasible option either though, for my heart seems to be already too much invested. So....I guess I hope and wait and figure out how the hell I will pick up after this. Franklly speaking, I don't like either of my options.

Live Small

Interesting advice I was given and goes against every grain in my body. I'm faced with a situation. I want to retaliate. I won't to ensure that I take pre-emptive strikes and put an end to this. I want to go out and deal with this full force and not sit back and "take" it.

And yet, Live Small. What do I mean by that? Well for me right now, with this situation, it means living under the radar. To take a stance that says, do what you want, I am better than that, and all your feeble attempts mean nothing. Why should I do this? Well I am better than that and the more I engage in this, the more validity I give it.

So I sit at a crux. I want to fight, I want to ensure that this gets dealt with swiftly and surely and I squash it like a bug BUT by fighting this as if it is a threat, gives the picture that I feel it is a threat and there is validity to it.

The more I engage in all this, the  more power it has. The more I fight it, the more threat it has. Live Small. Ignore it and it will go away. Dismiss it, rise above it and give nothing to give validity to it. Live Small.

In this instance, excellent advice. Now to work at the ensuing emotional eruption that it caused and not let it tag into my vulnerability. Rise above it, recognize it as petty games from a childish immature person. Live Small and it will go away. And surround myself with the truth of who I am: a Beautiful, Professional woman who knows what she wants in life and is finding and will find success in this world.

Why? Because...........

"I ROCK!!!!!"................(guitar hero told me so...... ;-P )

Group Therapy

Long day. Eight hours. Lots of intensity. Much emotion. Eight hours of sitting in a heightened emotional state. Leads to utter exhaustion, greater connection, growth and healing and one massive headache? It's a love hate relationship. I hate hate hate the days of fear leading up to it. I hate hate hate the entire day of intense emotionality and I hate hate hate getting stirred up. But what I love is the care, the connection the deep visceral guttural knowledge of being seen, of being known and of being loved through the ugliest, the darkest and the nastiest parts of me. What I love, is the growth, the healing that I have glimpsed of. It's enough to create a hunger, a longing to keep on moving and to embrace all those parts that I hate. It's enough to keep me going back, despite my fear, despite the trepidation, despite the angst, anxiousness, panic and unknown. It's enough for me to continue embracing my hell in the hopes of restoration. It's enough.

My Inspirations- Jen N and Shannon G.

So recently, I have been in contact with some friends from high school (thanks Facebook). Now these girls were a grade higher than me, and so through high school we didn't really know each other. But I was in a small private school, in fact my grad class consisted of 40 students and their's- 20. So although I didn't know them well, I knew them somewhat. Well, through Fb in the last while, I have gotten reacquainted with them. The main way I have done that is through their blogs, which you can read here and here. These two women are incredible and if my faith were even half of what their's is, I would consider myself a blessed woman.

I have gone through a lot of shit. Let's face it. Those of you who know me know that. And yet, when I read of the struggles and of the heartache that besets these two women, I feel ashamed at my own lack of strength, lack of faith and lack of courage. What I really appreciate about these blogs is that they are heartfelt, they are authentic, and they are gut wrenchingly honest. They lay their hearts and souls bare to those who read their stories. Sometimes, they are angry, sometimes hopeless, sometimes despairing, sometimes fearful, sometimes joyful, sometime ecstatic and they choose to share their journey with those who would read it.

Many times, I anxiously await a blog post from these women, for their joy warms my heart, their faith stirs and encourages me, and their pain breaks me. I believe I have told them both this: but I honor and esteem these two women. And as a small token this is my tribute to them. I searched and searched for a number of hours but this is the best that I could come up with. Although the first verse doesn't apply, I find that, for the imprint that these two woman have left on me, the rest of the song does.

Is it because I'm a female?

Guess what!!! I am a girl!!!! And you know what else???? I'm a very feminine girl. And furthermore, I am quite pleased with the fact that I am a feminine girl. It suits me, I wear it well. In fact, I completely relish in my femininity. I enjoy being a girl!

What I don't enjoy is people who think that because I am a girl, because I am feminine I must not know anything. I really don't enjoy that because I'm a girl people assume that I have no intelligence and no business sense and do not do my due diligence. Do I know everything there is to know? Of course not. But I do know what I don't know and I do know how to find out what I don't know. I also know how to do my due diligence. I also know how to do my research. I also know that have a good brain, and I am intelligent and I know how to use my good brain. I also know not to swallow everything hook, line and sinker.

But what really riles me is the assumption and the patronization and condescension that comes with it that because I am a girl I am somehow intellectually flawed. And so I feel the need to say this: I am intelligent, I am proud of my intelligence and you might want to think twice or take a second look because before you assume that I'm not. I do not enjoy my credibility to integrity being challenged and when you make the assumption that because I am a girl I cannot be intelligent you are challenging a) my intelligence, b) my integrity and c) my credibility and I do not take kindly to that. In fact, do that and I lose a ton of respect for you immediately. So...think carefully my friends...

Hey Hottie!!!

Really? Um....is our relationship such that you feel you can call me that? Cuz really? I don't know you. And to be honest, I am not in relationship with you and as such there is no way on the face of this planet that you have my permission to call me that.

I am single. And as such, I am discovering a new element of supposed "man " out there. This is the type that approaches me with a "Hey, Sexy!" of "Hey Hottie!" as their way of greeting. My response? WTF do you think you are doing??? Where on earth did manners go? Where on earth did respect go? In fact, where on earth did common courtesy go?

Trust me my friends, calling me hottie or sexy by way of a greeting to me, is NOT appreciated. It is not respectful and I am not impressed. If that is your attempt at making me feeling wanted or sexy think again. If that is your way of showing me you are interested, thinking again. Because frankly speaking I will not give you the time of day.

I really am appalled at the familiarity with which guys approach me. Calling me hottie or sexy when you have no clue as to who I am slots me right in line with being a piece of meat that is purely here for you casual useage to be tossed out with the trash.  Think again, because the only place that will get you with me, is the back door. By the way, don't let it hit you on the way out.

Not quite as offensive but running along the same lines is the concept of calling me Kris. For those of you that are reading this, if you have done so, you are forgiven. However, my name is Kristie and that is how I wish to be addressed. Two people in this entire university get to call me Kris....and get this....it's not even my family. That is a rare privilege that only two people have. Trust me I will be swift to correct you should you call me that. As I did just recently. The response? The person in question chose to take offense because I politely told him that my name was Kristie and he could call me that.

I am not sure what type of men we as mothers are raising that they think they can get away with things like this and not only get away with it but think it is complimentary. But guess what? I demand more of myself and subsequently I demand more of those around me. So, if you are thinking of calling me sexy, hottie, Kris, or any other such disrespectful title, think again.....for you shall be swiftly shut down.

I am a person, I am due respect and dignity, I have a name. Use it.

A new and better year?

Expect a post in all my blogs today and tomorrow. I seem to be full of mixed emotions/reactions/thoughts. It's a weird spot to be in, half of me here and half of me there. 2010 has not been good to me right now. It started with my car breaking to the tune of 1500.00.  Needless to say as a single parent, 1500 isn't floating around me right now. And it was a fight to get it and then a number of promised options either fell through or either experienced difficulties themselves. Then just as I got that one sorted out, my cat was attacked which meant another bill to a vet and we all know those are not cheap. So I got that one sorted out and what happens? A broken heart. A friend of mine pointed out they come in threes, and we joked that hopefully the third was something simple. Well, the third - a broken heart - not so simple. Before, number three came along, I stated that it can only go up from here. Well, lets hope I was right.

Many people have said and have said to me, this is the year. This is your year. I think that that in part is because of how hard last year was for the general populace at large. In light of all the "victory parlance" that is being bandied about right now and in ight of how my year has started, I'm at a loss. The questions I find I am left with is:"will this really be my year?", "are things really going to change?", or "is this my destiny?", "is this how the rest of my life will be?"

I realize some of this is leftover victim thinking. I also realize that I need to ensure that I don't remain locked up in this kind of thinking, for that shall be me downfall. Part of this comes from a lack of direction. I know this much about this coming year: I will hopefully graduate. Did you notice that that's a hopefully? I cannot even guarantee that. It's really hard to be hopeful when you are in the middle of a mess of no direction.

So where does this leave me? Attempting to find direction and attempting to figure out where this year is going and attempting to figure out how to keep battling the negative self talk that lurks behind every closed door and every corner. Not an easy task to be sure.

So here's to jumping into the unknown with no idea what to do or how to do it....