Recognizing a Blessing..

There are certain things in life I take for granted. Health, security, roof over my head. People are another thing I take for granted, that I really shouldn't. I've realized that there are certain people in life that touch you in a way you will never forget. 

Yesterday, I visited my old high school. I went to pick up my transcripts, since I am applying back to university for the fall. I try to go back once every three or four months, just to see old teachers and the chaplain, people I spent four years of my life with everyday, and became like family. Now, I'm not saying I had some weird relationship with all my teachers, nor did I go to a boarding school. I had my parents, and my sibs, but at that point in my life I feel like my family was more of an obligation than the people I depended on most. 

I was a floater in high school. I had 4 distinct, constant groups of friends. I wasn't the type of person to stay in one place for very long. The only thing that remained the same is that I was a Jr. TA in the Special Education classroom. Two wonderful ladies taught this class, and I got to know them very well. Especially Mrs. Roy. 

Mrs. Roy was about my mother's age. Her daughter graduated with me. She ran cheerleading, and wasn't afraid to tell you what she really thought. She was like a second mom to me. I talked to her about all my problems. I shared all my triumphs, joys. I told her about my crushes, about the drama I was dealing with in certain groups of friends. She is the one person that knew pretty much everything that was going on in my life. Everytime I see her, she gives me a hug, and holds on a few seconds extra, just to let me know she's there. When I say goodbye, she flashes me the sign language sign for I love you. I know that she cares. When I graduated, the only time is when she gave me a hug and told me how proud she was of me. She is a wonderful person, and I would not be who I am today without her. 

Dreams

Dreams are more real than reality itself, 

they're closer to the self. 

~Gao Xingjian

Dreams have always been a funny thing with me. When I was little, I had a recurring nightmare, where the huge monster dude from the 'Great Ewok Adventure', was chasing my friends and I, who were all apparently all girl scouts, through a terror stricken city. Hopping over debris, bolting through pipes, trying not to get eaten. I'd wake up in cold sweats, usually crying when I was really young. After a few years of having this dream, it started to change. I started to realize at the beginning of the dream what was happening, and started to lead my group. Then my sisters were suddenly apart of our girl scouts group, and the need to protect them was overwhelming. That's when I started to control my dreams.

I believe they are called lucid dreams. Pretty much, I was able to decide that it was MY dream so what I said goes. And that's what happened. Every dream I had, I was able to control the outcome.  My nightmares became comedies. 

But lately, since my mom was killed, I haven't been able to do that. Recurring dreams of the day I found out, seeing her lying in the coffin, my baby brother lying in his hospital bed with tubes sticking out all over him, looking so small. My baby brother looking at me in pain, and not being able to do anything about it. My heart breaks everytime. And I can't stop it. No matter how hard I try, I can't change it. I can only watch, feeling utterly helpless.

I also dream about weird things. For instance, when we were in the DR, we met this couple from Newfoundland. The woman was about 46 I'd say, and just seemed like the ultimate woman. She was tanned, happy, smiling eyes, and full of advice. She was pretty awesome! So every few nights since then, if I need any advice on anything, she's there, we are at a lake where the lake is frozen over, but we are tanning on the beach, and she gives me advice on everything. Super weird. 

And when I don't think I can take the sad dreams anymore, there's a recurring dream of one of my closest friends from highs school. It's like I'm seeing him for the first time in years, he comes over, sits down besides me, and holds me. Just saying 'I love you' over and over. And I've never felt so safe. 

So now I wonder what tonight will bring. 

Hola!

mmm.. I feel so spoiled! I just got back from my week at the Breezes Superclub in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic. It was fantastic! I swam with dolphins, got tanned (in FEBRUARY!), met a kazillion people, and felt completely violated in every way! All in all, a very satisfying vacay. 

Oy.. someone should have warned us that two young women, alone, going to the DR is just a recipe for trouble. Between the bartenders, servers, the merchants in town, tour guides and bus drivers, we definately now know what a piece of meat feels like. 

We arrived on Friday, after a 6:30 am flight (ick), and pretty much chilled for the day. Saturday was spent by the pool, chilling with pina coladas and daquiris.. We also found out what a Dominican Double is. Its about 4 ounces of alcohol in a 6 ounce cup. Margueritas are bad news when made like this! That night was the Valentines day show. I'll post a video if I can figure it out of the games they were playing with couples.

Sunday we went to Sosua, where there was a 2 mile long flea market along the beach. It was pretty interesting.. Saw a lot of neat stuff.. got to drink a pina colada out of a pineapple which, was pretty much worth the trip. We were molested by the merchants, who wanted kisses and such in order for a cheaper price. A little sketchy. It was a pretty awesome day all around.. bought some pretty sweet souvenirs for my sibs. That night we went to the bar at the resort and got to know the bartenders. This pretty much set us up for awesome times for the rest of the week. 

Monday we went to Oceanworld, which is similar to Seaworld. We swam with dolphins, hugged them, kissed them, danced with them, fed them.. The kissing was the worst. I was tasting fish for a half hour.. pleasant. The dolphin, Chiquita stuck her tongue in one guy's mouth.. it was pretty nasty. We saw sea lions, birds, white tigers, stingrays, sharks, pirhanas, but the Dolphins were definately my fav. That night was interesting. After apparently one too many shots, we sorta agreed to go dancing in town with 2 of the bartenders in Sosua for Wednesday. Dirty Dancing 3 anyone? We had a hell of a time getting outta that.. A little too sketchy for my tastes! 

Tuesday we had another down day, pretty relaxing. It rained most of the day, so we sat in the hot tub, and took it all in. We met a cop from Jersey who pretty much was the most hilarious person I've ever met. 

Wednesday we went out on a catamaran. It was awful. Six hours on a boat and I was sick for 5 and a half of them. It was awful. I, along with half the rest of the boat were leaning over a flipping bucket for the day. Terrible. That night we took it easy and went to bed early as to avoid running into anyone we didn't want to see. 

Thursday was our last down day. We chilled, relaxed, and just enjoyed the last of the sun. That night we took it pretty easy as well.

Friday we came home.. a very sad day.. Leaving the land I love. I'd definitely recommend the resort. It was fabulous. 

Ok, I promised myself I'd sketch out our week, and I did, so now I have to go get my life in order. Talk soon! 

Decisions Decisions! and christmas memoirs..

One of the hardest things about this first year after mom was killed is the whole what we should/ shouldn't do for holidays, birthdays and so on. For example, our big dilemma right now is whether or not we should decorate the house for Christmas. It was always mom's big holiday, she absolutely loved it. We'd have 2 trees. The one in the basement was upside down, hanging from the ceiling. Christmas decorations were everywhere, and the house smelt of cinnamon. One tree would be store bought decorations, the other would have all of our handmade ones from over the years. 

Our house would be blasting Christmas music from the beginning of November for as long as mom could keep it going. Christmas was always the same. Christmas Eve we'd open our Christmas Pajamas, and then hit the hay. Then, Christmas morning, sometimes at 3 AM, usually at 7, my baby sister would bounce into my room, waking me up. Then she'd go get our parents up, who would take FOREVER making coffee and setting up stockings. My dad would get out the video camera, and we'd stampede down the stairs. Then came the three hours of around the circle gift unwrapping, oohs! ahhs! a mountain of wrapping paper, CinnaBuns, and coffee with liquor.. Good times.. So now we must decide. Pain now? or pain later.

Winter Memories

So while I'm trapped in this land of snow and ice, I've been reminiscing of winters past.  This was my life last year, a letter I wrote to one of my friends from Ontario..

"So, after a treacherous drive to M's school, I then find myself STUCK in the middle of the flippin road! I mean.. COME ON!! firstly, edmonton doesnt plow the roads that often, and definately not the sideroads. secondly.. in the - 46 degree weather, where your face can freeze in 5 friggin minutes, its a lovely thing to be stuck. thirdly, I am stuck beside the house. Like, the garage door opener works.. BAHH!!!.. so .. I go and get construction workers.. to come help me.. and it takes 3 of them to push me out. They say, how do you wanna do this? I go "I dunno! I'm from ontario.. they actually plow the roads there, and we are SISSIES and STAY INSIDE!! (ps- I'm very proud of that)"... so now, as I listen to sirens go by, and wonder why I'm in this terrible climate.. I think of the poor ppl on the bus that is stuck on 23 ave, or the cop who has veered off into the snowbank off Riverbend, or our paperboy who is no doubt frozen stiff probably just off 22 ave, because we didn't get a paper this morning! So, I sign off.. Freezing in Edmonton.. 
ps... ont the bright side, we are supposed to get HIGHS of minus 26!! isnt that EXCITING?!.. 
I think I should move back to Ontario to get away from this forsaken land of ice and snow. PEACE!"

Clearly I was very mistaken if I thought I'd get any break from the horrible weather I'd experienced in Edmonton by coming back to Ontario. I think this is Rag on the Weather week.. however, I'm allowed. I'm a weather girl and so not impressed. Ready for the hot weather to be back. 

HBI- A Confuzzling Conundrum

**NOTE: I apologize in advance if this post insults anyone in anyway. That is not my intention at all. Then again, I judged people so much for so long, I guess I have no right really to ask for anything less. and if you want to read a good post about this topic thats less emotional click here lol

A conversation I had recently. 

Friend: I'm gay.

Me: That would explain a lot. 

Friend: Do you think I'm going to hell?

Wow. uhh. Wow. 

Me: I.. uh.. couldn't tell you..

Friend: I've tried so hard not to give in to it. And I've tried to like girls, but I just can't! 

Me: You don't have to justify yourself to me!

Friend: I know. But I pray everyday. For forgiveness. 

Bah. Poor guy. He can't even tell his family. Now let me give you my background.

I grew up in a Christian home that took in foster kids. Us bio kids were expected to be role models and good examples for the kids that came into our home. My mom and dad were also very set in what they believed and, as a result, I was the same. I believed that homosexuality was a sin, and, although you don't choose to be gay, you do have the choice to act on it. 

This was me all through high school. I was the top debater in my religion class. I could discuss it for hours. 

Don't get me wrong, we didn't go to any anti-homosexual rallies or anything. We were taught to accept them, but that what they were doing was wrong.

And then one day, I realized that I didn't know what I believed. I came up with some things that just seemed downright hypocritical.

1) Christianity teaches that God loves everyone, and that we are called to do the same. Last time I checked, homosexuals are people too.

2) The Bible says that God will judge. It's definately not my job. And I don't like other people judging me so what the hell kind of person would I be if I did it?!

3) The Bible says that all sins are equal. So if I lie, it's the same  as the guy who murders. So how hypocritical would it be to condemn another when I'm not perfect?

So, I decided that I was done with all that. I decided that I believed in God, and I try to be the best person I can be. But you don't have to be a self-righteous bitch about it. 

But then you have the whole family issue. If I told my dad how I felt about this, what would he say? Would he be hurt that I didn't continue on in the faith that they tried so hard to teach us through their lives?

Really though, what right do I have to tell someone they can't love someone?! It's a matter of the heart. And ever since my mom died, it's really hit me that you have to live your life to the fullest. Take advantage of every second you have, because you only live once. And who knows which second will be your last? 

'The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.'

Fall Memories

Since fall is pretty much over, I was reminiscing on memories that the season brings back. 

Way back, it was getting into the groove of a new year at school, reconvening with old friends, attempting to make it through until the weekend. 

At thanksgiving, making our way up to the trailer for our last weekend, staying in a little cabin, *freezing* with Andrea. Spending the weekend hanging with Sean and Reuben. 

Halloween for Hunger, a program where we'd trick-or-treat for cans for the food bank instead of candy was always a good time. 

In university, the excitement of striking out on our own. The metaphorical cutting of the apron strings. Sleeping in till noon, partying till 2.. somehow fitting in our classes, and just having a wicked awesome time. 

In Edmonton, standing outside the school doors with the awesome moms and other nannies, bracing ourselves for the cascade of children bound to fly through the doors at any given moment. Stepford Wives convening in their Prada and Gucci inside where their flawless skin wouldn't be exposed to the elements. Warren's halloween party, spider fiasco, carving gourmet (bloody difficult) pumpkins, a huge spider web over the front door that stayed up until Christmas. Nannied M and I going to the park every other day, to just have fun before the evil white stuff reared it's UGLY head! Not to mention the greatest day withe Nannied M ever! Itinerary including:

- sleeping in and watching cartoons with M in our jammies

- Nanny friend Jenn flirting with the waiter so the kids could have extra whipped cream, and teaching the girls to flirt as a result. (they tried it.. VERY cute)
- dancing in the car, and scaring a guy in the truck beside us on the way to the Science Center

- a snake jumping at me and me booting it for my life (which made the gurls HOWL!)
- racing our wallets down a lego car run- I won (Cause we are that cool )
- talking about Ontario with a staff member that originated from there.. :D
- flirting with the staff at the science center, which landed us a behind the scenes tour of some nasty creatures!! (the snake being one)

- NOT smashing into anything with our vehicle
- although my sunglasses were not so lucky ( thanks JENN!)

- begging to have one of the displays fixed because it looked like SOOO much fun! ( and succeeding! Dang we are good!)
- listening the kids thanking us for everything from taking them to not killing them
- watching the kids express their love for us to the staff who thought we were on glue.. :D... I loved that job!

And this year? BabyBoy toddling down the sidewalk, finding all sorts of treasures he -thankfully- did not feel the need to taste. BabyBoy playing in the leaves. 

Ah what a season. Must it end?!

In those books

I grew up in a fairy tale. I grew up in the pages of the books I read. Let me explain.

I started school early. When I was three years old. I loved it! I learned to read very early and that was my passion. At recess, I'd be swinging, reading a book, going down the slide, reading a book. Walking, reading a book. Some of the girls used to tease me because I couldn't go for a day without reading. At night, my parents would give me a time limit, and I'd always go past. Then they'd hit that horrid little red button on the electrical outlet in the bathroom that would cut all power to my room. 

Not only did I read a lot, but I read super fast. I'd finish books in a matter of a couple hours. This was my life. And I loved it. 

I loved becoming part of the story. Feeling the emotions, going to other places, escaping from everyday life. Books like the Narnia series, Nancy Drew, the Trixie Beldin books, Sweet Valley High, Roald Dahl, all books and authors that were part of the world I lived in.

Don't get me wrong. I wasn't one of those kids who had no friends, that the only friend they have are the characters in the book? nope! I had plenty of friends, it's just that my imagination worked overtime. 

Oh! and I learned to talk through my books. I learned new words everyday! And I knew them in context, however i couldn't say half of them. and I mispronounce words alll the time.. People used to make fun of me (my family mostly lol) and so I just don't even try to pronounce words that I'm 100% sure of. 

So, I still read (when I can), however I now enjoy writing.. So.. I may start throwing some of my old stuff up here.. 

But for now.. BabyBoy is calling my name.. 

Kids are my Passion

So, I ranted about how I still want to be a kid here. 

So now i want to tell you why I love being around kids so much. They are amazing. Fabulous. Their little minds are just so creative and wonderful! A child can see how I'm feeling better than some of my best friends.. they are very astute. They give hugs freely, and love unconditionally. You can just be you. And they are the cutest little guys ever!

I've heard some VERY cute things come from these little ones. 

My little brother Zack was pounding away on our keyboard. I asked him what exactly he thought he was doing?! 'I'm writing a story!' came the happy reply. I played along, "What's it about?". "I don't know!" he replied. "I can't read."

Ah, that child was some kind of cute!! So mischievous!! or...

I was running a daycamp a few summers ago, and a little guy, William (age 5) came up to me and told me that he knew where chickens came from. 'Eggs!' he stated, very proud of himself. I smiled, and then he said and he ALSO knew where chicken nuggets came from. Interested, I asked where. He said, from "Baby chickens! They are too little to be from mommy or daddy chickens!"  too cute! he was convinced he was amazing because he knew all the answers. 

They are soooo sweet!! BabyBoy, the other day, came and sat in my lap, grabbed my face in his hands and proceeded to tell me this long winded story that went something like this; 'garble garble giggle ba geee daa yee'... and here I am, thinking about what I have to do all day, and everytime I look away, he stops, turns my face till I'm looking at him, and then continues with his story. Ah man.. I love it!

God missed the Memo

*note: I wrote this on June 11, and since I don't have anything really to write about today, I thought I'd post this*

Life. fragile. fleeting. too short.

on friday may 30, I got a call from my dad that ended my life as I knew it. My mom had been killed in a car accident, and my baby brother was in a coma in the hospital. I was in Edmonton, over 3000 kms from my family.

This isnt how it was supposed to be. My mom was vibrant, kind, and a pain in my butt. I suppose cuz we are so alike.. we fought all the time.. she was supposed to live to be 115, with all of us going, "geez woman.. would you go already?!" and still poking her nose into our lives. 

But God missed the memo.

I flew home on the red eye that nite. In the process, I lost my cell phone, and a piece of luggage. I stopped at the hospital to see the baby. He was unconscious, was bruised, with all these tubes poking out of him. he'd been through so much already, I just wanted to pick him up and hold him.. but all I could do was hold his hand and cry. 

He was supposed to be home with us, with my mom, making us all smile.. trying to grab the phone when mom put me on speakerphone with him, doing his signs for please and up and more, and just being a baby.

But God missed the memo.

I came home, and my house was, as usual, full.. except this time with suffering and pain. A cloud hung over the house, and everyones faces. I went to my dad, and cried with him, holding him, telling him we'd make it through, when I myself dont know how.

Dad should have been picking me up at the airport, bringing me home to a crazy busy house with everyone going everywhere at once, my mom holding everything together. I'd walk in the door, and hug each of the kids, and mom.. and we'd talk about the flight.. and how much I dont like Air Canada compared to WestJet..

But God missed the memo.

Then came memorial plans. My dad was not exactly ready to deal with all that.. so I started making plans. I arranged for the band, for the center. for the food. for the wine. I had to talk to OPP about the accident, and make decisions about what next.

I should have been arguing with mom about borrowing the car, and who was making dinner that night. I should have been planning nights out with friends, shopping in london, dinner with the gurls...

But God missed the memo.

Then we had to bury my mom. We said goodbye, and they lowered the casket. I'll never forget the sound..

I was waiting till the day I was old enough to call my mom by her first name when I was exasperated.. like she does with her mom.. 

I was waiting for the day that we'd live in the same town and have the kind of relationship where we'd go to each others houses for coffee.

I was waiting for the day that we'd make the transition to friends, instead of the mother-daughter stress.

I was waiting for the day that I'd get married, and mom would be there to tell me that my bra strap is sticking out.. 

I was waiting for the day that shed spoil my kids, and then send them home to me, like my grama did with us..

I was waiting for the day we'd both be at FH, me with my kids in a trailer with hubby, and mom down the circle, waiting for her grandkids to come over for a hug.. and junk food that I dont allow before dinner.

I was waiting for the day that I could sing her my part of the song...

and I'll continue waiting...

Because God didnt get my memo...

Now I move home, and pack up my life in Edmonton, to help raise my baby brother, not as a mother mind you, but as a loving big sister. Its something that is hard, but something I want to do with all of my heart.. I now attempt to sorta step into my mothers shoes, and realize what big shoes they are. and as I do, I wonder... why?? why?? why did this happen? why to her? why to me? why to my family? 

Why didnt He get the memo??

matt asked me wasnt I excited to see where God was taking this?

my answer? I wish I didnt have to see where God was taking this. I wish my mom was here. I would give anything to have her back. 

I love you mom.. as for the rest of my life.. you know. Can you give Him the memo? 

Where in the world is..

Jonathan Taylor Thomas. 

I was wondering this as I was watching a very old episode of Home Improvement last night. I remember way back when I was in grade 2, and my bff N was in love with him. 

She'd come to school and tell us all about the latest dream she had that involved JTT. The most prominent one was where he came and whisked her away from school in the middle of class- a big production of course!- they'd drive off in his limo, and head for a very romantic lunch at... Harvey's. yup! Harvey's. Talk about romantic! Who wouldn't love a romantic lunch (because if she missed dinner with her parents, she'd be in BIG trouble!) with the smell of grease and heart attacks lingering in the air. When we all teased her about it, she insisted that it was very romantic because he paid the 'restaurant' to close down for those few hours so they could be alone. Oh baby oh baby!! 

Taking this little trip down memory lane caused me to think of all the little celebrity crushes going on nowadays. Zac Efron, the Jonas Brothers seem to be most prominent right now. I am the first to laugh at those who dream of "wouldn't it be nice if they noticed ME" and the "if I could just meet him, I know we'd be together forever!" But, I suppose, this is just them being kids.. If they want to dream of lunch with these boys at Harveys, have at it! 

I guess we laugh because we don't have those types of aspirations. Our eyes turn from Hollywood Hotties to the hotties living down the street that we'd never really noticed before. We turn from dreams to reality.

So to O, my baby sister, dream away little one, while you can. For tomorrow will hit you with a sad reality. 

By the way, today is Blog Action Day 2008, and I've created a link to a blog post about it, and some ideas on how YOU can help!! Check it out here! Lend a hand!! 

The Mystery and Magic of Young Minds

I love reading other people's blogs. Some of them bring back such memories. I just finished reading Clever Girl Goes Blog: My magic., and I was reminded of some of the magic I thought I had possessed when I was young.

First of all, my cousin and I thought we could walk on air. I mean, we would take two small steps into the air so that we were hovering only a mere few inches off the ground- enough to be able to walk through the house without mom realizing we weren't actually napping as we were supposed to be, and were actually stealing our way to the cookie jar. I suppose we had just gotten to the point where we knew all the right places to step, where the floor wouldn't give way just a bit. To this day, my cuz and I still talk about how we could 'walk on air', and get away with anything.

At school, my bff Nicole and I had read a book, which talked about water that was all powerful, and any who drank it possessed the ability to do anything. So, we'd go down to the candy machines, and instead of water, it would be magic smarties that would give us our strength. In the middle of class, when we were having trouble doing something, we would reach in to our desk, exchange a look with the other, and pop our magic 'pill'. And, somehow, things didn't seem so hard.

The kids from my little town would gather in the "kids fort", a cleared area among the bush out behind the old horse racetrack, and we would convince all the younger kids that we had the power to do anything to anyone we liked. We would put a hex on the caregiver that yelled at us to get out of the bushes. We would 'bless' the house of our favourite old lady who would always have time to give us some fresh lemonade and cookies. We'd have initiations where the little one would have to go to the "forbidden area" (the mill behind our house) and put one foot inside the door, before running away, scared to pieces of the terrors we'd explained existed behind that door. We sure were awful sometimes.

And the imagination! When we played hide and go seek, my friends and I would go and fight our way into the biggest closet in the house. Past old clothes, helmets, bins, and finally past my dad's old motorcycle helmet and leather jacket, we entered a world apart from our own. Where we'd have adventures for hours, especially when my brother was the 'seeker'. It was, after all, a very good hiding spot!

Mmm, we did have some good times back then. And, now that I've entered the world of decisions, bills, and heartbreak, what I wouldn't do to have a little of that magic back.