Move away to Rural BC

After a throw-up incident on Friday night with Charlie in which I basically had a panic attack that we were all about to succumb to the dreaded norovirus (for those who don't know, it's the most prevalent GI illness out there and after having it once, I can say, it warrants a panic attack).

Today I learned at the daycare shmaycare that Charlie wasn't the only one, and it wasn't just a too-full belly that caused his illness as some suspected (not me!). Luckily I bleached the hell out of everything we touched that night cleaning up, well, except for Charlie's head, but I was tempted. And:

• I haven't had bleach in my house period since I left home.
• Now I feel it's a necessity as this is the only way to stop the spread of norovirus once it gets in your house, daycare, etc.
• I feel guilty about it, even though at the same time I feel like drinking the stuff "just to be safe".
• I seriously want to pull Charlie out of daycare.
• I don't trust one of his caregivers who is super defensive and never happy.
• The YWCA is now allowing homeless women to sleep in their gym, where the kids play, as an emergency shelter. I feel guilty about it, but I also want it to stop. They are babies and they are on the ground. How can I be assured they are safe from the things that unfortunately exist in vulnerable populations such as bacterias, viruses, etc?
• How can I be sure the daycare is safe? The caregivers giving enough hugs?  The food handled properly (well, I do read the Health Inspection reports in this case. Yes. I actually do.) How can I be sure all medium and large urban areas are not just cesspools of disease?
• In other words, I am freaking out. I want to pack up and run away with my family. Hawaii would be nice. But rural BC, some farm that doesn't get too cold...live in a trailer.
• I realize my family doesn't come visit anymore often with a house than they used to. And we have no furniture for them. And one bathroom. And when they fly here, I get paranoid about the germs. And when I fly to see them, I get paranoid. I'm losing it.

In the end, I would like to state that the world is a very scary place with too much uncertainty and I have very little delusional optimism which I've read recently is a necessary human trait to get through the misery of life.

Here is a farm for sale near J's brother's home on the west coast. Only $949,000 (laughs crazily).

First friend

I remember my first friend. Tanys. Inseparable. We thought she would marry my brother and we would be "REAL" sisters forever. My mom sewed us identical outfits in different colours. Tanys was always yellow, me pink. Our moms coordinated birthday and Christmas gifts so we always had the same things. I was heartbroken when Tanys moved on in life to new friends and boys and schools. We called each other's parents by their first names. We played on the same softball team from t-ball until after we could drive ourselves to our games. We were both pitchers. We both played piano. We loved the Blue Jays and had posters of our favourite players up in our rooms. Our entirely pink rooms.

We are still friends, though mainly over facebook. When I became pregnant she sent me all these gifts, some of them being things that were just SO Tanys, meaning I would never have picked them out. Tanys LOVES Disneyworld. Her grandparents lived in Florida growing up so she went there a lot, and over the years I think she found different, new ways to love the experience, from sharing it with her husband, her daughter, etc. Either way, do I like Disneyland? Meh, not really! I may even be "against" Disney in what it has to offer in the way of consumer capitalism. But I love that she loves Disney. Because it was originally a way of being. A happy place where kids are forever. Innocent and joyful. Like Tanys.

When Tanys sent a huge (HUGE!) Mickey Mouse in the mail from Saskatoon to Charlie, I could only giggle. SO Tanys. I love her like a sister. Only a sister can be so different from you but not be offensive in any way. "Mickey" is one of Charlie's best pals now. He loves hugging him and biting his big nose. For a long time, Mickey was bigger than Charlie. I think it helped their relationship.
Some of my granola friends are a little surprised Charlie has a Mickey Mouse friend. But that makes me love Tanys even more. She is a nurse and so loving and giving.

This morning Charlie walked into daycare with me and his little buddy Paige came up and gave him a big hug. A couple weeks ago I learned Charlie had a friend named Riley at daycare who he was following around the slides and little plastic houses. Now Paige. Both girls (my little ladies man).

Seeing Charlie develop a friend or two makes me miss Tanys so bad it hurts my heart. In the best possible way.

Reason to Jog Reminder #816

Getting caught in a flash rain/hail storm on the lunch break. I can't think of a better WakeUp Activity than running AND a shower!
Refreshing, adventurous and uplifting.

Why I run: Reminder #416

I went for my lunchbreak jog alone today. It was drizzling outside, high teens, and of course, perfect running weather. However, so many days can be cancelled due to the following excuses, all of which occurred for me this morning.
I'm sore from (blank) and the run will be painful, long and bring me no joy.
I'm having irritable bowels (again) and the run will make it worse.
I should be doing (blank) instead.
I shouldn't take a lunch and leave early so I can pick up the kid from daycare a little earlier.
I won't lose any weight, binge later in the day, and it won't make me feel good.
I will have really bad hair after running in this humidity/rain.
I will be really sweaty for my meeting.
I will probably stink for my meeting.
I can't jog alone because it is too boring.

But today, I went anyways. ALone to confront my stressed out thoughts, sore body and bad humidity hair.

I never time my runs, or care how far I go. I aim for my "loop" and that's about it. Which at times makes the whole thing feel pointless. Why do I go? What is my goal? When will I run a race? Get a personal best, join a jogging group, improve, improve, improve.

Today, lost in thought running through the old-growth trees on St. George's Island, without any people in sight, the traffic noises barely audible along Memorial, suddenly I came upon a Merganser duck mom. She was taking her ducklings, about 8 of them, out of their tree nest, across the sidewalk and into the river. I arrived just as the last few were flopping out of the tree from way up high, right in front of me.

I stood completely in awe.

No longer was I constrained by thoughts. Thoughts of my life. Self-pitying thought of being a tired mom, a sore renovator, an insignificant office worker, a cranky and often angry 31 year old woman.

All in that one moment of seeing the rare duck and her duckling, I felt like a complete creature. I was a creature mom waiting out of respect for this duck mom to move her kids along. I was completely absorbed in this scene.

 The rain drizzling onto me, warm from my jog, air fresh, plants dense and green, it was a scene of Mother Earth, of the nature that is just a quick jaunt from any downtown or suburb. It was a reason to be alive to be witness to this. To be whacked upside the head by beauty and be reminded of my physical essence on earth as just another creature. It pratically had me in tears, which is the obvious touch of pure sublimeness, being a sense of both pain and pleasure. 

I waited for them to disappear into the plants, then with a sudden vitality of energy and life in me, I sprang back into my jog. My hamstrings and quads had a strength that could only be brought on by true and pure inspiration. Not owing to nutrition (a sugary mocha being my only that morning), not owing to hydration (certainly not considering the beer and wings from last night), and not owing to any complex carb-loading/running shoe technology/lululemon-jogging gear, I ran back to the office at a breakneck speed. Like a disciple spreading the word, I felt I had a mission to share this with another human. To let them know the secret to life. The secret just over there, just behind the plants bordering the downtown. Just beyond the pedestrian bridge that takes you into the real life.

 I'm glad I jogged at lunch. This is why I do it.

Stroke of Insight and Cool Sad Songs

Just read "My Stroke of Insight" by Jill Bolte Taylor, PhD. What an amazing book. She talks on Tedtalk here.
The summary from Ted is:

Speakers Jill Bolte Taylor: Neuroanatomist


Brain researcher Jill Bolte Taylor studied her own stroke as it happened -- and has become a powerful voice for brain recovery.

.Why you should listen to her: .One morning, a blood vessel in Jill Bolte Taylor's brain exploded. As a brain scientist, she realized she had a ringside seat to her own stroke. She watched as her brain functions shut down one by one: motion, speech, memory, self-awareness ...

Amazed to find herself alive, Taylor spent eight years recovering her ability to think, walk and talk. She has become a spokesperson for stroke recovery and for the possibility of coming back from brain injury stronger than before. In her case, although the stroke damaged the left side of her brain, her recovery unleashed a torrent of creative energy from her right. From her home base in Indiana, she now travels the country on behalf of the Harvard Brain Bank as the "Singin' Scientist."

"How many brain scientists have been able to study the brain from the inside out? I've gotten as much out of this experience of losing my left mind as I have in my entire academic career."

Jill Bolte Taylor

I'm not sure why, but this book about her experience, above all yogic insights, above all other books I have read lately, this book really HELPED me. I mean, I'm-angry-and-screaming-inside-and trying-to-scream-outside-at-my-beloved-J-and-not-knowing-why-and-no matter-what-I-can't-stop-and-I feel-out-of-control-and-helpless-even-after-years-of-different-therapies-and-drugs..., HELPED me.

It's only been a day of trying her techniques. But the difference is that she is solely based on the body and its capabilities in her advice. No foo-foo, no God, no bullshit. Yet she can talk elegantly about Energy and Healing and not be foo-foo. She is speaking my language. The science of what we don't know. The experience of energy as something real and tangible. It really gives me hope that I can heal this anger inside me. Change my future. At last.

And now a totally random quote from this sad song I like by Of Monsters and Men called "Little Talks".

I don't like walking around this old and empty house

So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear

The stairs creak as I sleep, it's keeping me awake

It's the house telling you to close your eyes

Some days I can't even trust myself

It's killing me to see you this way

This song really lets me see the big picture. How I treat J and how much I would miss him if I was old and alone in our old house. Thinking of all the words I said to him, and wishing I had been more kind and loving. It makes me sad, but also is a reminder. It's beautiful in its duality.

Detachment Parenting 101

As recently ranted on this blog, by yours truly. With a little, well, a lot, of extra quotes for the picking.



For some reason the term “attachment parenting” just brings up all sorts of ooooo-gleee emotions. I mean, the first time I heard of it I was all like “ooh, unicorns and rainbows, that sounds awesome!” but now, I don’t know. Maybe I feel like there were things I wanted to do that I didn’t do or couldn’t do? But more than anything, I guess I ran into too many pretentious, bitchy-ass moms who espouse AT, and not only did I despise their other parenting choices, but I found whatever AT things they did, I had to seriously consider the opposite. I know, intense emotions.



Either way, the end result was reading something a while back (was it Renegade Mama's blog?) that was actually poking fun at its critics, but nonetheless, here goes. That term, that word "attachment", does it not imply that some parents are NOT “attached” to their kids? Or whose goal is NOT attachment?



This really hit home when I was recently in the doc’s office explaining for the umpteenth time to a different person how I was separated at birth from my baby and blahblah traumatic, blahblah. His response? “Wow, no, that’s bad. I mean, even cracked out, street women, totally high on something, they know, that’s THEIR baby!”



I'm serious, besides someone seriously experiencing PPD, who DOESN’T feel attached to their munchkin and do whatever they can for them, within their own capabilities? I work at the downtown library, otherwise known as the day-time -drop-in centre (to me). I SEE those moms. I want to STEAL their babies. I want to take home these precious 6 month olds and do a better damn job than some 17 year old, smellin-like-smoke, talking-about-getting-her-GED-"SOMEDAY", at-the-library-from-9am-to-4pm, texting-people-all-day and IGNORING her baby mom. But I can't. I don't even glare. I just long. I long for someone else's cute little baby. But you know what? I would NEVER comment on what she should do or not do with her baby. Why? Because that lesser-than-me mom? She LOVES her baby. She is ATTACHED to her baby. And God knows, if I came even within an inch of insinuating that I would remove that baby from her, I am absolutely certain that momma bear would

tear

me

apart.

She may not be making great choices, and yes, I know that love does not conquer all, especially second-hand smoke or growing up with no role models in your life. But within reason, someone, especially THIS someone (lil' me), should not be feeling threatened that someone thinks she isn't attached to her baby. The thought of this is so revolting and sad that when it gets down to it, I shouldn't even get so mad.


The term is just one of total, utter obvious-ness isn’t it? For lack of my own better term? What does a parent, like me, call herself as a non-AT mom? A detached mom? For real, pick a different name, or better yet, just call yourself “mom”. How’s that? Oh yeah, not pretentious enough. SO outdated to JUST be mom or JUST be dad? To JUST love and do what you can? So 80s. So what our moms did. Who wants that? Phooey.






Well, anyways, I'm out of breath. Phew, end of rant. thanks for listenin’ luvs;)

Saskatoon in June

This was a photo my mom sent me after I was told that brownbear had arrived in Saskatoon with daddy as planned, but with 7 stitches!

He fell into a play table at the Calgary airport and the paramedics there said to take him to Saskatoon as it would be more convenient. J waited until post-stitches to call me. It was so hard to hear this all at work. I burst out crying of course. J doesn't have the greatest ability to tell bad news. I thought the start of his story being "I have a little story for you (said ominously). Our little bear fell down..." was going to be much worse and I seriously stopped listening at that point. I can't imagine how hard it would be to have a spurting wound on a toddler just before you are trying to catch a flight for work all alone. Poor J and bear!

I even checked said table on my journey through the airport 2 days later and there is not an edge on the thing. He's just unlucky I guess. This lack of grace is the ONLY thing he inherited from me. The photo above is such another J lookalike photo. The legs are SO daddy's legs! Long and straight.

But the bear bounced back. This was a photo from Sunday night, when everyone was over for my birthday.

It's hard to see but this is my niece being chased by a little bear! The feeling of watching them really play like this for the first time is the EXACT opposite feeling as when I got that call from Justin about "the fall"! Such a rollercoaster. Heart-stopping to heart-warming.

Here's my big brother, grandpa and mom for a family photo.

This was after many, many outtakes of the same photo. Both kids were not happy to have their 45 minute race around the kitchen be stopped for a photo but eventually they were coaxed into a couple still shots! Grandpa was helping too, that's why his finger was in the air.

Overall, Saskatoon was a great trip. The CBC radio there totally makes up for the GODAWFUL other radio stations. The spectacular blue skies, jogging through the mud trail along the Sask River surrounded by bushes (Nature's first air-conditioning). The expansive river, twice the breadth of the Bow River in Calgary is a marvel to run across on a bridge, but wow, the wind! Then there was the humidity, which had me perspiring the entire time of course. I just couldn't trust the weather, always expecting Calgary's cool weather to pick up anytime, so I wore sweaters and extra tights and had a sheen the whole 3 days. We even had dinner on an outdoor patio on an overcast evening, and no jacket! Take that Calgary. Still, we had to remind ourselves many times about the lack of good downtown restaurants, the winter, and of course, mosquito season that is on its way anytime. But Saskatoon, like so many Canadian destinations in the summer, will charm and seduce you! Key words are the summer!