Open Wounds

As I go through life feeling rather invincible and indestructible, I've made choices accordingly. The would-be fatal shots glance off my thick skin like rubber bullets on asphalt. I can tell they hit, but they don't slow me down. It seems like a lifetime has passed, but it's a much shorter reality. Suddenly that thick skin I once counted on for protection starts to show its wear. It thins out to the point where I learn of my mortality in a heartbeat, a burst of light and emotion unlike anything comparable. The invincibility is gone in that same heartbeat. I know it is gone. I force myself to look at my skin, hands once seemingly made of impenetrable rock, now glowing warm and soft to the touch. Those blows that were once easily deflected would most certainly be critical now. The idea of switching gears from immortality to self-preservation is a daunting one. How do you go from care-free to careful in mere moments?

I slow right down, from a run to a crawl, wondering what this new and alarming change is all about. Surely I cant just go on living life normally, as I've always done? I cant trust the same people, make the same choices, deflect the same blows with indifference? Its frighteningly apparent that my feelings and emotions are more tangible now. Where pain was once an abstract thought to consider, it is now a gut-wrenching bolt of electricity. That sudden jolt shakes me to my core. I cant be in pain. Its not possible. All those previous hits I took, I was invincible right? Yet this pain is sharp and piercing, it has me breathless.

I look down at my chest and abs, expecting flawlessness as always. Instead of that former image of perfection, I find several deep healed over scars, and several more which are still bleeding. I drop to my knees in horror. How did I get here? How did I end up so completely damaged without even realizing it? Survival instincts run very deep in my veins, and even in my disbelieving state, they kick into gear. Its not even the discovery of these very painful wounds that has now slowed me down. On the contrary, I now have to figure out how to move forward, wounded, in this new skin. I have to adjust my actions accordingly, to avoid any future blow that could prove fatal. Now there is a new sensation to deal with besides pain, and that is one of fear. I have never feared the unknown before. I never had any reason to.

So this is where I am right now. Even as I know my wounds are healing, the fear of developing new ones has me frozen in time. Analysing the past only seems to open the lacerations further, and even my scars ache in protest at that train of thought. I will move forward however, somehow, I'm nothing if not determined. I look around the new landscape of desolation for other survivors, for a small sliver of hope, something to motivate me forward. "I'm still here!" I scream, at no one in particular. That is the motivation, I realize with sudden clarity. That is what will drive me forward, even blind. I'm still here.

Messageboard Thinkin'

(sing to the tune of Drinkin' Thinkin' by George Canyon)

See that post over there? Its got everyone hot.
You cant help but respond, its a battle that must be fought.
But if you're proven wrong,
you'll just change the tune of your song.

That's just Messageboard thinkin'
Online logic can make you ill
Your braincells expandin', till you believe you're Dr. Phil
And here's where the trouble starts,
The more you post the better you think you are.

From this computer, its fair to say
I see this stuff every day.
A mom with a newborn will challenge mom of 5 to a fight.
Or the few with more time, will jump on the board
trolling and cussing using words like a sword.

That's just Messsageboard thinkin'
Online logic can make you ill
Your braincells expandin', till you believe you're Dr. Phil
And here's where the trouble starts,
The more you post the better you think you are.

{Spoken} See your post count go up by the minute

That's just Messageboard thinkin'
Online logic can make you ill
Your braincells expandin' till you believe you're Dr. Phil
And here's where the trouble starts,
The more you post the better you think you are.
Ah the bigger and badder, smarter and better mama you think you are!

{spoken} You better switch to facebook, girl!

Truth Telling Day

I nominate today as Truth Telling Day. Honestly I don't care if anyone else wants to tell the truth or not, but I've been keeping so many toxic secrets for so many years, it is finally time to lay all my cards down on the table. They are the very definition of toxic, because keeping these things inside has kept me from moving on, kept me from getting to a healthy perspective once again. So here I go, and I offer no disclaimer for the things I am about to divulge.

(in a rare burst of humanity, I have partially obscured the names for my own peace of mind)

A#1: I am thoroughly disgusted with you. You claim to be such a wonderful friend, fiercely loyal and other such bullshit. Yet a simple request to obtain a copy of a video of Jon and I together is denied for no logical reason whatsoever. You know full well that Jon and I have been having problems, and what a treasure a short video clip of us laughing together could mean to me, but instead you'd delete it before I could share it or even copy it for myself. I admit that even though you've done pointlessly idiotic things like this in the past, that I could have eventually gotten past it. Why I refuse to get past, or even try to become friends again, is your support of a convicted child abuser. The worst part is that she's not even a repentant child abuser!

A#2: There is no way on earth, that I could ever forgive your past sins, and I don't care how much you try to pimp the idea of your traumatic 'head injury' around to your friends.

C: You were an asshole way back when, and I should have stuck with that opinion instead of believing your apologies and claims of being a 'different person'. How was I to know it was a huge show just so you could sleep with my best friend? I guess I should have gotten a clue when you took advantage of my loneliness to start sending me erotic texts, describing how much you fantasized about sleeping with me. All while claiming to be my best friend's 'boyfriend' and my husband's 'best friend'. I feel much more informed now, as to the 'real' you, so thanks for that!

J: You've never tried to hid the fact that you want to sleep with me, and while I don't mind harmless flirting, I took serious offense to the fact that you actually told people we DID sleep together, when in fact we have never. Then there were the nights you dragged me out drinking, in an attempt to get me drunk enough to follow you home, even though my wedding was mere weeks away. I am just sorry that I didn't figure out your intentions before you tried to kiss me. Then there was the "No way I cant STAND babies" comment, directed towards my newborn daughter being held out to you to hold. Is it REALLY a wonder why I removed you from my friends list??

P: To say we were ever friends is laughable, because I find it hard to believe anyone with your ego can actually make room for true friends. You can make mistakes all over the place, be brash and rude, yet it should be all good. However heaven forbid anyone else make a mistake and own up to it, because that is the time to really let them have it, right? That's when its all okay to tell them what you REALLY think of them. However, if not for those moments, I might never know what you actually think of me, and I am grateful to know the truth now, so that you no longer have to pretend around me!

R: best friends with benefits... or was that roommates with benefits, when it was convenient for you anyway. When I was self-destructing, depressed, feeling alone, you could very happily ignore me. Or, my personal favorite, during the lowest point in my life, yelling "Grow up!" at me from your room to mine. Fast forward a few years, and now the only thing I am good for is babysitting your kid for free! Isn't that just the best, and I kept agreeing because of how much I love kids all the while deluding myself thinking we're friends and I'm NOT being used! I've tried to remain friends with all my exes, because I have always believed that someone worth being intimate with, is worth having as a friend. I have since started re-thinking that belief.

The Barrel of the Gun

At age fifteen, I had two good guy friends I spent a lot of free time with. I was new to friendship with guys however as before that age, none had ever given me a second glance. Matt was one of the guys, and we dated for a brief time. I adored him, he was so easy-going and so sarcastic, we were perfect for each other. His best friend Mark was the other guy, quirky and strange at times, a slight contrast to Matt's easy-going nature. They were best friends though, so usually where Matt went, so did Mark, therefore the three of us were together quite a bit. One day I ended up at Mark's parent's house alone with him, though the exact reason has been lost to me. His parents had a normal mid-sized family home, but he, like myself, had a room in the basement. If his fairly strict parents had been home, I assumed I wouldn't have been allowed to follow him down the set of rather old wooden steps. In the soft light of the one bare ceiling bulb, I let myself gaze around inquisitively, as I did in any new environment. It had that slightly musty feeling that most basements have, and was carpeted in a shaggy outdated blue shade. The ceiling was unfinished, with all the support beams visible and serving as storage to various odds and ends. It was also home to quite a few cobwebs, giving the appearance that Mark was left to tend the housekeeping of his own space. The main area at the foot of the stairs looked to be used as a home for forgotten and obsolete household items. As I idly stared at a few wispy webs clinging to a neglected lampshade, Mark reached up to an exposed beam and dislodged a long slender object. It took me about half a second to recognize that the object he was retrieving was a rifle.

I had never actually seen any kind of firearm up close before, so a fair measure of shock and awe rushed through me with a tingling chill. That tingle instantly became a silent scream of protest, as Mark raised the rifle, aiming its single barrel directly at my head. He stood a mere three feet from me, an arm cradling the polished wooden stock and finger on the trigger, appearing like he might actually know what he was doing. I didn't move, and didn't make a sound, concealing my increased nervousness. I'm not sure if it was my stubborn nature, but it seemed incredibly important to me to keep my cool. It was difficult. I had never ever been comfortable thinking about guns, and now I had one targeting me.
"Do you think it's loaded?" was Mark's question for me, his stance unwavering.
At those daring words, anger raced through me like fire over dry timber. I narrowed my eyes at him, staring right over the grey steel tube and into his ice blue eyes. I was determined not to play whatever game he was trying to start.
"No," I bluffed, sounding a lot more sure than I actually was.
The hard truth was I didn't really know him. I had no way of knowing if he'd be dumb enough to pull down a loaded weapon and aim it at me point blank. It was a rather bad time to come to that realization I guess.
Then just as suddenly as he had drawn the gun on me, he swung the barrel down to point harmlessly at the carpet covered cement. His face radiated his disappointment. So my first instinct had been right and he was looking for a reaction. I was glad to disappoint him. I was also enraged at being put in that position. I suppose I could have taken that moment to berate him for his stupidity and bold attempt to scare me. Instead, I decided to go with the 'revenge is a dish best served cold' philosophy.

I delivered my cold dish about a week later. I waited until I was precisely sure that Mark had forgotten about our little basement encounter, and with Matt around to witness my actions, I set my simple plan in motion. The three of us were just casually hanging out, on route to the corner store for junk food.
"Hey Mark, lift up your arms for a sec," was my seemingly innocent request to him.
He gave it little to no thought, and obligingly raised his arms above his head. In that same moment, I pulled back my arm, fist clenched tightly, and sucker-punched him with all my fifteen year old girl strength squarely in the gut. The audible whoosh as some air was forced out of his lungs on impact, was extremely satisfying.
Needless to say, as Mark wrapped his arms around his sore gut, both boys were more than a little stunned by my actions. Poor Matt had no clue, I had never told him about the rifle incident. That didn't stop him from grinning at such a bold move by his girlfriend. He actually seemed impressed.
"whaa wha what was THAT for??" Mark stuttered indignantly, a scowl forming on his reddened face.
"For being stupid" I told him, glaring right back. He might have got it, he might have not, but I never felt the need to offer further explanation.

What Motivates Insanity?

Here is my very loaded question tonight. What motivates insanity? What sort of mental abnormality has to be present for someone to do those certain things that the majority of the population would never consider? The dictionary defines insane as mentally deranged, crazy, of unsound mind. That is not helpful to me, as I am sure there is no way to tell an insane person from a sane one, before the insane one acts out. It is truly mind boggling. There are basic principles engraved in my head, the difference between good and evil, right and wrong, and the ability to act based on these principles. I didn't need a belief in any one God or religion to bestow such a moral compass, I simply had to look into my own heart, and listen to it. It is when I look outward, at the chaos of the world, that I tend to get a little lost. I feel helpless when I hear about senseless murders, beaten children, people raped and ravaged.

It's one thing to pass moral judgement upon those who have committed these horrific acts, but what about those who are still in the process, those who are still planning? I've heard it said that the world needs evil, so that we can in turn recognize the good. That still doesn't explain why certain people are compelled to act evil in the first place. I suppose if you're religious, its easy enough to pass off as 'the hand of the devil', but in my opinion, that scenario has a counter of an Omnipotent being such as God, who should be able to lead people away from the path of the devil. So, from my point of view, you can believe that God sits back and lets people get used by the devil, to hurt, kill, maim and destroy, simply to prove the existence of good by use of evil. Or, borrow my train of thought. What if there is something fundamentally lacking from the brain of someone predisposed to become evil? Maybe those people cannot find it within themselves, the absolute knowledge of 'thou shalt not kill'. How about thou shalt not terrorize for fun, thou shall not willfully cause pain and suffering among other human beings. How can I figure this stuff out, when others cannot?

At one point, I thought that laws were in place to teach this sort of thing to those who were somehow incapable of figuring it out on their own, but I have since abandoned that theory. People are STILL doing horrible things, for any number of reasons. Innocent people are still getting murdered. Children are still getting beaten senselessly. People I love are being terrorized. Innocent kids have been left alone in fear. Its enough to make even the sanest person question all things. I will always have questions that don't have answers, but knowledge is infinite of course. Lets pretend, for just this late hour, that maybe a higher power DOES exist out there. "Excuse me, all knowing one? I get it. Evil exists, alive and well here on earth. I think everyone pretty much gets it. So, knowing that, can said evil somehow just take a week off? A day even? I promise I wont forget about it for even a second!"

The Real Story of the WalMart Slasher Guy

Mark started off as a normal 20-something year old, and was offered a great job at his local WalMart, as a greeter. He took his job extremely seriously, even as his friends usually cracked jokes about him. He was so impressive as a greeter, that he was quickly promoted to 'check-out guy'. He was very diligent in that role as well, impressing even the most hostile of customers with his efficiency. He was truly a rarity among WalMart employees.
Everything was going well on Halloween Night 2001. Mark had taken over a shift from an employee who wanted to attend a big Halloween party. The evening neared 8pm. There were quite a few customers running in and out, searching for last minute costumes or grabbing what was left of the candy for the trick-or-treaters.

Mark was working his till with his normal cheerfulness, when a haggard old woman appeared in his lane. He was not taken back by her appearance, as he had seen it all in his years of WalMart employment. She had a nasty look on her face, and her wild hair was only half tamed by a hot pink scrunchie. She had somehow managed to squeeze her rather large frame into a pair of purple spandex leggings, and completed the outfit with an XXL T-shirt sporting the phrase "You Know You Want Me". You have to give Mark credit for the ability to keep a straight face. He rang up her purchases with a kind smile on his face to contrast her scowling one. As she loaded her bags into her cart and started to leave the store, Mark noticed she had a box of Halloween candy resting in the bottom of her cart. He knew immediately he had not scanned it, therefore knowing she had not paid for it.

The idea of someone taking advantage of his place of work filled him with a bit of a rage he had yet to experience, and decided he could not stand idly by and watch her leave with stolen merchandise.
"Excuse me, Ma'am!" he called to Ms Purple Spandex Lady.
She didn't turn around, instead began to waddle faster.
"Wait, you did not pay for that candy!" Mark yelled futilely, as she neared the doors.
Determinedly, he locked down his till and gave chase. As he reached the parking lot and looked around the mostly empty spaces, he spied an empty cart in the middle of a nearby parking spot. He didn't think she could have driven away so rapidly, and continued to look for any sign of movement. Suddenly an engine gunned to his left, and he saw a flash of headlights as he turned to look. Unfortunately for Mark, Ms Spandex was not only fast for her large size, she was driving a rather big Xterra, and had it aimed right for him!

There was nothing he could do, his body just refused to react fast enough as that beastly vehicle closed the small gap between them. As he was hit full-force, he heard a ghastly cackle from a voice that yelled "And I didn't return my cart either!!!"

That was not the end for Mark however. Every Halloween, he stalks different WalMart stores, all over the world. He preys on those who don't pay for all their purchases, those who don't return their carts, and he has a special hatred for scrunchies and spandex. So beware this Halloween, if you need to make a last minute purchase, please shop with care. He is watching!

The Fine Art of Being Wrong

It happens to almost everyone, at some point or another. You react to a situation in your life, the best way you know how to at the time, and then somewhere down the road, it hits you. The way you reacted was possibly not the best. When you get that sinking feeling in your gut, the knowledge your actions were less than stellar, how do you handle it? Do you keep going moving ahead with confidence, unwilling to let the uneasy feeling get you down? Or do you take a moment to reflect on your actions, hoping to gain a new perspective? I am at that cross-roads right now. I know that I made a hasty decision amid a storm of painful and emotional chaos, and I am taking this moment to reflect.

Its funny how an individual can grow and mature when given the right circumstances. Years ago I wouldn't even pause at this moment, even knowing I may have been wrong. I'd smooth it over and keep going. I don't know why it's different now, I don't feel like I'm a totally changed person. Yet here I am, still paused, still searching for the way I can re-write the path I made for myself.

The wrong I committed, while not life threatening or completely evil, ultimately consumes me more with each passing minute. It must be the guilt that I cannot shake. I can explain it pretty simply I believe. Picture me in a medium sized rowboat. Now picture a bunch of people crammed onto that boat with me. Over the years, I've pushed certain people out of that boat. I've never regretted those losses. Those who've used me, stepped on me, and even a few who abused me, all shoved into the water. It takes a lot, a huge amount of stress, for me to toss someone overboard, it isn't something I do lightly. However, recently there were a few events so painful, so achingly cruel, that instead of pulling people closer in order to help deal with that pain, I think I pushed out harder. It was like a tiny explosion actually. I rocked the boat so violently, I ended up pushing just about everyone out. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time! The less people near me, the less people to hurt me, right?

There it is. That 'seemed right at the time' moment was actually the big wrong. There are people I threw into the water, that never should have gotten wet in the first place. A few of those lost souls have actually always had my best interests at heart, even when I was too blind to completely see it. So, at this new cross-roads, or cross-rivers, to fit the theme, how do I pull a few people back into my little ship of fools? Is it as easy as reaching out a hand? I'm not sure that it is, but then again I'm not sure that I've ever rocked the boat this hard. If I threw out a life preserver now, would anyone take it?

Death By Message Board

There have been a few things I've learned, being a frequent poster on parenting message boards over the past few years. I've been lucky enough to be part of a group of particularly passionate women for a number of years now, and I've seen a lot of interesting things posted. One such interesting event happened tonight. It was another case of parents failing on purpose, which for whatever reason, seems to be a trend on my blog so far. A regular member of the board posted a facebook link, one that directly connected to a facebook user's personal picture album. This particular album featured pictures of an infant, not more than a few months old, if that, being unrestrained in a moving vehicle. One picture even showed the baby sitting on the dad's lap in front of the steering wheel, the road blurred beside them, clear evidence of the moving vehicle. Another shocking point against the parents was a picture at the beginning of the album documenting their road trip, the driver clutching a beer bottle and the steering wheel at the same time. That was strike one and two, and no one needed to find a three before reacting.

For a huge group of very well-meaning parents, the images were extremely shocking. I myself was caught up in the disbelief, and the anger that followed. How DARE people mistreat helpless children that way? That was the general consensus. However, not content to simply view these pictures, I, like many others took it upon ourselves to send messages to the mother of the infant. Some were nice, some not so nice, and others were just plain old "How the HELL can you be so IGNORANT and IDIOTIC with the life of a baby?" The post that the original link was presented in grew to three pages of comments, all various degrees of disgust, where calling CPS was brought up, calling the police was also offered.

What amazes me, beyond the obvious stupidity of certain parents, is the ability for people to use sites like facebook to over share and document their blatant stupidity. Its one thing to go off and do something that has questionable morality, but its a whole other level of moron who will then POST that behaviour for everyone and their uncle to see. Showing those pictures to a group of relatively ethical moms was like throwing a lit match into dry brush. We erupted just that fast.

I wonder, if our well-placed anger may have actually made any difference. Is a group full of venomously passionate mothers enough to get someone who is ignorant to begin thinking? Or did the woman in question simply block everyone from seeing her photos and go about enjoying her night? Maybe none of us are that good a parent, we're just mostly smart enough to conceal any photographic proof of our shortcomings! Maybe there are tons of unrestrained infants in vehicles with drinking drivers out there. Maybe loads of kids are getting beaten behind closed doors. What can a truly good parent actually DO about those things? You could lead by example, and hope that people strive to be a good parent like you. Or, you could be a part of a parenting message board mob, and hope that a trial by fire will burn some sense into certain less-than-stellar parental units. Personally, I'll take a little from option A and B, mix em up, and see what develops.

There's That Husband Karma Again!

There are some days when I love the cosmic order of things. Like the belief in Karma, and how I will never doubt it exists. It hasn't yet shown itself in a huge horrifying way (like those Karmic instances I believe are waiting for my child-abusing ex-friend and her boyfriend) But on days like today, I cant help but laugh when someones actions come back to bite them in the butt. Today started out fairly well, unlike two days ago, which began with a fight with my husband. I put that behind me, we both did I guess, and I went about normal morning routine of getting the kids dressed and ready to walk to school. It was one of those mornings where my husband was around to help out, as he didn't need to be at work till noon.

There are downfalls to having toddlers who climb, have I mentioned that yet? That detail is pertinent to the morning's events. The kids were confined (thanks to the ever-present baby gate) to the kitchen and living room as usual. I made my way back and forth over that gate several times, getting my own breakfast, checking computer-related things, getting the kids clothes, etc. I didn't think about my absences too much, as I normal don't worry when my husband is in the living room with the kids.

I had just gotten the stroller out, and was going to grab the first toddler I saw to buckle into it, when I witnessed 'the karmic event of the day'. As I hoisted myself over the baby gate barricade into the kitchen, there is Hannah, standing on a kitchen chair pushed against the kitchen counter. She is giggling. That is not a very comforting sound when I knew instantly it meant something naughty, as they are not SUPPOSED to be at counter-level.

Sure enough, as I took a few steps over to her, I spied the source of her amusement. Her Daddy's cellphone was now 3/4 of the way submerged in her big brother's cup of soy milk (ironically put up there to keep out of the girls' reach). The phone bobbed around rather comically as Hannah poked at it with her chubby toddler sized index finger. Then she caught me watching her. "Phone!" she exclaimed gleefully.

"Ummm... Jon? Do you know what Hannah is doing?" I asked him, already knowing that the wall separating the living room and kitchen prevented him from knowing the fate of his beloved cellphone. I'm just helpful like that. I plucked up Hannah as he rushed forward to rescue the sodden technical device that now reminded me of a very expensive Oreo. Once again folks, Husband Karma strikes again!

So My Husband Read My Blog

I was surprised he could navigate the Internet so well as to be able to find my little online writing outlet here, but he did. I suspect he was led here, but that's a rant for a different day! His summation of the time I have spent pouring my feelings out here? "Well there are things that I don't agree with..." No shit.... really? You mean after almost three years of marriage, 8 yrs of being together, there are things we don't agree on? I. Am. Shocked. For all of you who don't know me, that last part was called sarcasm. The main difference between my husband and I, after all this time, is that I stand up for what I believe in. I would much rather get my feelings out there and run the risk of upsetting people, then keep all my beliefs to myself so that no one knows my true opinion. Why would I want to surround myself with superficial friends? People whom I could never share my true feelings with for fear of rejection or ridicule? On the contrary, there are a great number of people who I wish DO read my blog, in the hopes that something I write one day could possibly illuminate their small-mindedness.

Not just blogs, but the Internet as a whole, is a study of human nature in vast proportions, and growing every second. This is my virtual diary, for sure, but in plain view of the public, and why? Because I have nothing to hide. I put my problems out there for everyone to see, and who knows, maybe someone other than me might one day find an answer I couldn't. Maybe someone who took advantage of me long ago will see I am no longer a push-over. Maybe strangers will relate to some of my experiences, and in turn feel better about their own. Maybe some day my husband will learn to accept that writing and the Internet are therapeutic to me. That is a lot of Maybes for one paragraph!

The best trait I have ever developed over recent years, is my ability to stand up and take action. I will not sit still, and I will not be silenced by people who have overlooked me in the past. I am far removed from that mild-mannered chick who let those with bigger ambitions walk all over me. I may not be surrounded by people calling themselves friends any longer, but I'd rather keep the few that are left who love me, then try to hold on to those drones who once paraded about pretending to care.

Its late, and now I think I am becoming repetitive. It seems to me that I have come to this revelation before. Even so, it's worth noting again I guess! I'm feeling very positive tonight, in spite of some of the fighting I've been doing. Its the feeling like maybe I am actually making a difference, slowly but surely.

Unplug Yourselves!!

The longer I have the Internet back, the more I am starting to get rather disturbed at the lack of communication. That is because it seems that Facebook is doing ALL of the communication these days ***my disclaimer here, is that I LOVE hearing from long lost friends and family, in any context, nothing brightens my day more like a supportive email!*** However, there are reasons to avoid letting Facebook and other social networking sites rule your life. Here are some signs that you might be a social networking junkie.

- Your gossip, family friend and celebrity, is always from an online source. By the time they show it on TV or print it in the paper, you laugh at how outdated it is.

-You're saving a fortune on birthday cards, because, saying "Happy B-day have a great one" on someones facebook wall is JUST as sentimental right?

-You need facebook or myspace reminders for birthdays, for your friends, even your parents and siblings

-You've re-tweeted more than 100 times in one hour JUST so you can make The Jonas Brothers a trending topic

-You expect ALL of your party invitations to come in the form of a Facebook Event Request, and that is how you create all your party invites as well. If anyone doesn't yet have facebook or check it enough, their loss!

-You know EVERYTHING that is going on with EVERYONE from High School, their kids, their pets, when they last ate and what time they plan on running errands. However you cannot quite recall the names of your neighbors, first or last.

-You've put off having sex or playing with your kids to plant something in farmville, knock someone off in Mafia Wars, or play with fish in your virtual aquarium.

-You accidentally make a profile change to facebook that goes from married to single, and suddenly your husband is confronted at work by several VERY concerned friends "How are ya holdin' up buddy?"

-You've taken quizzes that tell you What Twilight guy is right for you, What your boobs should be named, and What sexy movie starlet you are most like..... and you are a guy.

-When someone is not on your facebook or Twitter, its like they exist in a parallel dimension that no longer crosses paths with yours.

-You've ever thought to yourself "Its not stalking if they don't KNOW I'm browsing through their photo albums!"

-Either your twitter, myspace or facebook all have over 500 people on your friends lists, and you only actually communicate with 10% of them.

And the best sign of an addiction to social networking sites is:
-You have had a facebook chat conversation with someone in another room, or even better, sitting beside you on the couch!

Is it time for you to unplug?

The Final Decision

Everyone, at some point, has issues and problems they'd rather not deal with. Most people take things day by day, and some even minute by minute. Unfortunately, the less you deal with a problem, the more it tends to build up. So now I feel as though I am dealing with a most painful issue that is by now comparable to the mighty Empire State Building. Tonight is the night to deal with it once and hopefully for all.

All my life, I wanted friends. True friends I could count on for anything, people who could count on me just the same. When I moved to BC eleven years ago, I felt like one of the luckiest people ever. Here was this big group of amazing people, who welcomed me with open arms, practically no questions asked. For all of my twenties, I thought my group was the best. We've lived it up through so many weddings and countless birthday parties. Some of us even survived as roommates. We've cried together during memorials and funerals, and even suffered through the death of a friend from our very group. I was under the impression that we'd all be there for each other no matter what. Unlike most fairytales however, real life can be a bitch.

Are there deal-breakers in true friendship? I have always thought so. Somehow deep in my subconscious, I always figured things like rape, child abuse, and murder were most definitely friendship no-no's. That was, until the unthinkable did actually happen. Someone I was once incredibly close to was caught, charged, plead guilty to AND convicted of child abuse. This situation was so unbelievably close to my heart that I didn't think anything could possibly hurt so much. I don't think you even have to be a parent to see how incredibly wrong it is. I just cannot, under any circumstances, remain friends with someone who could commit such horrible acts against a little child.

I'm not sure what possessed me to believe that those in the group would feel the same, but that is what I thought. So here I am, hurting once again, because people from the group are now advocating for the child abuser. Its like pouring salt in a still-opened wound. In my pain-wrenched heart, I wonder, if one or two from the group could be swayed to become friends again with said abuser, what's to stop the rest of them? I don't trust my judgement anymore, and I cant stand to hear of someone else falling for such obvious evil. So, here's where the 'dealing with the issue at hand' comes in. I do not from this point forward, consider myself a part of any group of friends. I still keep an unwavering faith in a few people, but aside from them, and they know who they are, I am done. I never thought I'd see the day where I had to turn my back on so many people I love. I think it must be some kind of survival instinct, however it doesn't make it any easier. It doesn't mean I'm never going to be hurt again, but that ideal group of friends no longer exists. Its a painful lesson in human nature. Nevertheless, these people, this group, they don't define me. I define myself, and I am strong enough to stand alone for what I believe in.

The Best with the Worst

"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction" That Newton quote completely and utterly sums up my day.
The action, in my analogy, was Dakota's first day of Kindergarten. It was something that brought such joy to my life, seeing my little boy so happy and proud of being a 'big boy', and how well he did. He was pretty much beaming all day, and had so many stories to tell of his new adventure. Evidently, the universe, in keeping with the balance of all things, felt the need to also bestow on me some misfortune today. I keep with me the satisfied knowledge that all the unfortunate events of today have NOT been enough to overwhelm the euphoric feeling I have been carrying. So to the universe, I say "HA! nice try," for it is only 30 minutes till a new day. Merely half an hour until the balance of all things is reset, and once again good and bad will battle for control on equal footing.

To my so-called friend, who is once again speaking with, and advocating for a convicted child abuser, I say: "Too bad you're so desperate for friends that you'd go down the path of the damned for attention! Although it upsets me, it will not break me, I have no need for friends who abuse kids OR those people who would willingly associate with them"

To the father of the little boy who is in the loving and caring embrace of his grandmother, I say: "You haven't been around since he was an infant. He does NOT know you, nor did you ever care about that before now, he is no more your concern now than 4 years ago when you let his mother take him away with no further contact. He's in a loving and supportive environment beyond your wildest dreams, so BACK OFF"

To Patrick Swazye, taken far too soon by a disease that is possibly the number one evil, I say: "I am glad you are no longer suffering, no longer fighting a losing battle, and are at peace. I will continue to cherish the work you did, and dream about that which you could not accomplish in your short life"

And finally, to my dryer, who chose TODAY of ALL days to stop blowing hot air completely, I will say this: " The only thing today (and last night) which should CEASE blowing hot air, is/was Kanye West, YOU on the other hand, have only given me 4 years of service, and are leaving behind the endless laundry of 3 kids, two step kids, a workaholic and a desperate housewife. However, if you think this is the easy way out, you are wrong, because, dear dryer, you are STILL UNDER WARRANTY!"

Take THAT, universe!

The Mood

Have you ever gotten yourself into such a funk, that it is nearly impossible to find your way back out of? I am in the midst of one such mood currently. I don't even know what I did to get into this state of mind, but I don't really think I want it to continue. Everything for the past week or so has been just blah. There are things I should be happy about, Dakota starting Kindergarten on Monday for example; but I'm not completely. There are things I should be upset about, the girls being sick and feverish, and I'm worried for sure, but even mild illness doesn't pull me from the surrounding fog. I know it will pass, as the 'blahs' always do, but I keep wondering why they come back. Its far from the depressive state I once fumbled around in, but its close enough to unhappiness to make me really wonder.

I should be happy almost all the time, because, except for stress about money, I have a somewhat perfect looking life, right? I have the devoted (sometimes sarcastic) husband, three adorable (mildly rebellious) young children, and a number of great family members and friends (even though most of them are a distance away). See, I cannot even write about the good stuff without interjecting the not so good stuff. I'm wondering if that makes me a realist, or a pessimist.

I have a theory that looking into my own past too much this past week has really brought out the gloom full-force, because, lets face it, I was NOT a happy adolescent. So in order to get back to my semblance of real life cheerfulness, I will be needing to make a small change somewhere. Its not going to happen over night. Seeing Dakota to his first day of school on Monday will bring me back a bit. Possibly getting a part-time job at the new Tim Hortons in town could be an even bigger step in the right direction. Maybe all along I've just been lacking some sort of motivational purpose. I'm doing great as a stay-at-home mom, but maybe I've reached a point where that's not just all I should be. I'm not saying a Timmies girl is the be all and end all BUT it throws me out of my comfort zone for awhile, its been so long since I worked outside the house.

I am going to get over 'The Mood' somehow, I owe it to my husband and children, and most of all, I owe it to myself. My "Live each day like it was your last" motto has been a bit dusty lately, so I'm thinking I should embrace it once again and see what happens. I'm not going to go jumping out of planes or anything, but I do need to LIVE life, instead of just letting it pass by in endless shades of gray. So... What should I wear to win over the Tim Hortons people?

Child harnesses are NOT leashes

I was extremely infuriated by a comment I read tonight, saying that people who use harnesses on their young children do not know how to parent and take the 'easy' way out. How is ensuring safety somehow an 'easy' way out or bad parenting? Since that person assumed that I don't know how to be a parent to my own kids, I'm going to make some assumptions of my own. I assume, that someone so misinformed about child harnesses either A: has NO kids B: has one kid who has always been strapped into a stroller for walks or C: has some magic parenting ability that keeps kids within a foot away at all times no matter what age. For some of the rest of us everyday parents with other challenges facing us, harnesses are normal, useful, and most importantly ensure safety in unsafe situations.

So, to those who oppose harnesses, what do you do if you have a child who refuses to be strapped into a stroller all the time? Do you see the irony of harnessing a child in a stroller but being against harnessing a child while he/she is walking? For some children, learning to walk beside or hand-in-hand with their parents/guardians is a frustrating battle of wills. It is you against the toddler. There are toddlers out there who feel that they should be able to walk wherever they want whenever they want. If said toddler is met with an obstacle such as a stroller, or a hand firmly holding their own, they WILL rebel. Now I don't know about you, but shopping or walking when you have to constantly switch direction in order to re-direct your small child can be annoyingly time-consuming. It also gets dangerous. What's to stop that willful young one from yanking his/her hand from yours and taking off full tilt? Can you guarantee you're fastest, or faster than say a car speeding down the street that is inches from the sidewalk? I know I cant. Can you guarantee someone else isnt going to be quicker than you in reaching your child first?

Even when safety doesn't come into play, sometimes sanity does. Sometimes its both. Here is where I play the twin card. I have twin toddlers. If I didn't sometimes rely on child harnesses, we would never go anywhere. My double stroller and those harnesses are what keep my girls safe and secure while still being able to enjoy life. They can enjoy the mall without me having to rip myself in two trying to go two different directions at the same time. They can go hiking with us, without us having to worry about them tumbling down a steep hillside or mountain path. They can walk to the park without being able to reach the busy street before I can. I love my kids, and I love getting out and doing things, therefore harnesses are a great alternative to no exercise from a bulky stroller.

Little children don't automatically know how to hold Mommy and Daddy's hand while outside. They do not grasp the many dangers that are around them. If you are blessed with an obedient hand holding child right from the start, great! More power to you! I just try keep in mind that they wont be willful toddlers forever. I doubt very much I will be putting the harnesses on them to take them to Kindergarten, or High school, or College even. However I will rest a bit easier knowing I have a device to use to help me keep them safe until they understand how important it is to stay close.

Failed Parents

This one entry is so good, I'm re-posting it!
http://fatalfrost.blogspot.com/search?updated-max=2009-08-13T08%3A53%3A00-07%3A00&max-results=7

Birthdays Equal Depressing

Once upon a time, as a birthday would draw near, a little girl would get super excited. The little girl's parents always had a fun birthday cake and great presents awaiting her. Her friends would usually be over for a small party, and a piece of the yummy cake. By the end of the day, the little girl would fall into her bed, happy yet exhausted, and already anticipating the next birthday! Fast forward a few dozen years... Where did that super excited little girl go?

I hate birthdays. Okay, technically I only really hate MY birthday. I love celebrating everyone else's big day, but I'd rather eat road tar than be happy on mine. I haven't quite figured out why, or when celebrating the date of my birth went from happy and fun, to the equivalent of a root canal, but it did. I rarely get any calls anymore, just dozens of "Happy Birthday" notes on Facebook. I have come to loathe Facebook for that one particular reason.

I'm not opposed to getting old, that isn't the problem. Actually, I'm quite firm in the belief that 32 is not old nor ancient. I don't think I really look 32, but I don't mind actually turning 32. So if its not the growing older, what has soured my outlook on my 'special' day? I'm thinking it has a LOT to do with the fact that it has gotten downright predictable. I hate predictable. For example, I can count on at least one or two people I love totally forgetting about it completely. Last year it was my own husband who forgot. Also, when it comes time for my birthday, I start thinking about the rest of the year, all the invites I've gotten for other friends birthday celebrations. I am never going to understand why some grown-ups seem to have such fanfare surrounding their special day, while others go on unnoticed.

I'm too young for a milestone birthday, yet too old to be fussed over, and too tired of the 'go to the bar drink your face off' type fiestas of the past. So what's a gal to do? In the end, my dark mood will win out, I will end up alone, probably online, and more than likely slipping up and letting my inner bitch escape a few times. Happy Birthday to me, so who's next?

Fair Weather Friends

I think everyone must have some of these. You know, the ones who are only in your life when you're blowing sunshine and rainbows up their asses? Then when the storm clouds roll in, they're nowhere to be seen. I've had my fair share of these 'friends' for years and years. The problem is, you usually cannot spot them until it starts raining! While the sun is shining brightly, they'd have you believe there's nothing that can come between you. However, into every one's life, a little rain must fall (to quote a famous phrase). So I have learned, that the truest test of any friendship is hardship.

Flighty friends come in every shape, size, and gender. There is no age requirement either. Back as a teenager, I had someone I thought of as a great friend. Turns out my boyfriend was someone she liked. She got jealous and lied to me in an attempt to break us up. In my twenties, there were a few frightful examples as well. There was the one who begged me to drive across Canada with her, so she could move to BC from Ontario. Then when we arrived, she told me to 'go home' because the people in BC were becoming better friends with me than with her! (insert eye roll here) I've had a few guy friends who couldn't stand the heat either. Quite a few of them who would turn tail and run when it was known I wasn't 'easy'. The absolute hardest lessons from not-so-friendly friends has definitely hit me full force lately, however. You would think thirty some odd years would have me as an expert by now, but alas no.

So I am getting tougher in response. I have weeded out my friends list on Facebook, literally. I am quite capable of being supportive in times of great stress as WELL as in good times, but if you're not willing to do the same for me, I am done. Its hard for me to admit that I don't have as many close friends as I once thought, however its also made me treasure those who I do share a special bond with that much more. I'm very appreciative of the awesome people who don't flee at the first hint of danger, who will stand by no matter what stress I'm under or what stress they're under. That IS after all, what true friendship should be. To those who are friends, "Cheers!" to those who are not, "Sucks to be you."

Born-Again Internet Junkie

I think I have always been an Internet junkie. There is just something completely addictive about having all this information and these creative resources right at your fingertips. I wonder sometimes if artists are more susceptible to the addiction of the net, because it gives an effective outlet for positive (and sometimes negative) feedback. Whatever the reason, I've been addicted for years. I've been able to successfully manage my addiction quite well, even though my husband might disagree at times. Then came our move to our new place, and then the news that we would NOT be able to have an Internet connection, or even regular phone line, for an indefinite amount of time. I do NOT know how I managed. I especially don't know how I managed for over a year! I think possibly my house was cleaner though...

SO after a year long absence, I am back. Here comes the 'born-again' part. I thought I'd just be hooked back up, surf all my regular sites, and it would be like I never left. I was wrong. I don't know if it was the year away that changed me, or that somehow the Internet evolved a bit in my absence. Whatever happened, things do NOT feel the same. Sure I am chatting again with some old friends, made a few new ones, but its not like it was. I'm trying to put my finger on why. The 'net seems cooler to me now.

I don't think I'm imagining it, its not something that is easily explainable. Either I have somehow unconsciously distanced myself, or the Internet as I once knew it has changed, and not for the better. Suddenly my friends list on Facebook is at around 100 people, yet I only communicate with like 10% of it! The list of people on my message board has hit over 400, yet I only seem to know a few dozen people. And don't get me started on the kinds of things people SAY on the Internet now, even THAT has somehow changed. Again, not a good change. WHY do I need to know about sex quizzes that my 16yr old niece takes on Facebook? How in the world did my stepson get himself booted off of the net (by his mom) for videotaping himself lighting a skateboard on fire (and of course posting it).

Then there are the crude and indecent comments posted on sites like 'texts from last night'. Heck, even Twitter, which I still don't fully understand, has its fair share of incredibly selfish and cruel people. For example, last night, 'getwellmiley' was a trending topic, so I clicked on it. Not only did I find out she had a cold, but people were leaving messages like "Good, I hope you die" and "Just a cold, you're a retard, go to hell" WHAT is all THAT about, this girl, even though famous, is just a teen for gosh sakes.

So I have learned something, in becoming a born-again Internet junkie. Yes cyberspace is a wonderful resource, and I'm glad to have it back. However, just because you have a million opportunities online to tell it like it is, does NOT mean you should. I've decided that being somewhat anonymous gives certain people a Superman complex, and this IS NOT by any means a great thing. Are we, as a society, distancing ourselves by our reliance on the net? Come stalk me on Facebook and let me know!

Drinking and Driving

I am a mom on a mission today. Everywhere I post I am going to bring up the drunk driving debate. I cannot believe how people can still make such a tragic mistake. My husband lost an employee last night, who decided to drink and then get behind the wheel of his car. His friend begged him not to. I think it was a case of "It cant happen to me" syndrome. And because of that, he now becomes yet another statistic. The blessing in this case was that this misguided twenty something didn't take anyone else along for the fatal ride OR collide with an innocent along the way. How is it that the message of 'drinking and driving kills' still falls on deaf ears? Why are people still losing loved ones from something that is one hundred percent preventable? Imagine the horror that emergency personnel go through when arriving at the scenes of such horrific fatalities. What must go through their minds, when it becomes apparent the piles of twisted metal and limbs could have been avoided.

When I was a teenager in high school, the best drinking and driving campaign I've ever witnessed was waged in my own school. Approximately every 15 minutes, someone dies from an alcohol-related collision. So every fifteen minutes, for one day, a student would show up to class, face painted white, with some degree of fake blood & ripped clothing. Those students would remain silent the rest of the day, a representation of a drunk driving victim. It was powerful. By the end of the day about a quarter of our school's moderate population was walking around as pale-faced zombies. I will never forget it.

But really, does everyone need such shock treatment? I find it hard to believe that there are people out there who DONT know anyone affected by drinking and driving. My own parents were run off the road one snowy winter night by someone suspected of being intoxicated. Thankfully they were only shaken and not seriously hurt, but it could have been a lot different.

When we host a gathering where alcohol is consumed, we ALWAYS make sure there are designated drivers, and that people who wish to drink have the option of staying the night. I know it is not always possible to convince an intoxicated person that they should hand over their keys, BUT anyone who would insist on driving drunk is NO ONE I would invite back. It is not worth it.

So today, yet again, there will be a community in mourning. Many frustrated people, like myself, once again wondering when everyone will finally get the message. Driving while intoxicated is DEADLY. How many more people need to be lost in order to get that painful point across? My heart goes out to that young man's friends and family.

Marriage

Well I haven't had much of a chance to write anything in the past week or so. That is mostly because there are certain things I have come to count on in my life. The first is the unexpected. The second is marriage problems. The unexpected (but sweet) part of the last few weeks was the extended visits that my friend's kids made to my house. The three of them are growing up so fast, they are 15, 13, and 11 now, and I've known them since they were 4, 2, and newborn! It was great to have extra kids here. For some reason, I tend to thrive when extra children are added to my list of responsibilities! I don't quite understand that, but I'm not knocking it! That second part of my last few weeks is less than cheerful, although not even the smallest bit of a surprise. Marriage problems. I wonder if there are any couples out there who could proclaim they don't have a single marital issue to argue over. If so, it must be nice. Given that no two people are exactly alike, I doubt that a problem-free marriage exists.

Our problem 'Du jour' so to speak, is quality time. My husbands opinion of quality time together vastly differs from my own. I would love the occasional 'date night' without children, to unwind in an adult setting, a movie, maybe some dinner, time to reconnect without the daily strife of child-rearing 3 youngsters. If however that kind of evening is what I wish, it is up to ME to find a reliable babysitter, it is up to ME to budget the funds needed, it is up to ME to make any and all special arrangements and organize them (tickets, reservations, etc.) For our special valentine's day dinner, that is exactly what I did. That is the LAST time we've been out together as a child-free couple. My darling husband expects that if we are going to spend time together, it is me who will make all the sacrifices, and he who just gets to 'participate'.

I'm not sure he really GETS just what responsibilities a stay-at-home-mom already takes on, but lately an attitude I dislike has surfaced with him. He has taken on an aire of authority in our relationship, where suddenly my moods and socialization habits have to be justified by him. He is obsessed with the fact that I spend time online, to unwind after a long day chatting with other mothers. He has even gone so far as to blame the Internet for our marriage problems. I tend to disagree, since we have only had Internet access back a few weeks, and in our almost three years of marriage, have never NOT had problems of one sort or other.

So here I am again, on the Internet, trying to sort out all the mysteries of a happy marriage without actually talking to my husband about it. At this point I'm wondering if most men are even built for the complexities of a good marriage. Are there men out there who can form a true partnership with women, who's opinions are both equal and valid at all times? I know that at this point in my life, I do NOT need a 'parent'. Someone to tell me what I can and cannot do is irrelevant, since I have a long history of rebelling against authority figures. I can already see the rebellion starting. Quite possibly it's already in its infancy, therefore explaining why our issues seem to be growing rather than shrinking. One thing I know for certain is that I am a strong and capable woman. If its necessary, I will do this whole parenting small children job on my own. I will not lose my independence or voice simply because of my current SAHM position.

I love my husband. However I have decided that if he does not love me enough to work a way through our problems, a way that doesn't have either of us losing who we are as individuals, then maybe this particular marriage isn't worth saving. Stay tuned, this is definitely a continuing saga!

That Little Pink Bachelor House

Years and years ago, I made the unwitting decision to become a part of a house full of men. I was just shy of turning 22, and was smitten with the carefree guy who asked me to join him as a roommate. Of course hindsight tells me now that agreeing to become the roommate of someone you are crushing on is decision making at its worst! Nevertheless, I followed my heart instead of my head, and embarked on yet another in a series of lifestyle changes. I figured, perhaps foolishly, that if I could travel across Canada and start a new life by myself, there wasn't anything I couldn't handle. Then I became roommates with Rob (my crush), Phil (a friend), and Jon (a stranger). It was an odd foursome to say the least. Rob was a ladies man and confirmed bachelor. Phil was married but separated. Jon was a new father. As for me, well, I was just as odd as the rest of them, so I figured I fit right in! For awhile, while everyone settled and got to know each other, things seemed just about perfect. We did what any normal bachelor house would do. Threw parties every few weekends for no reason, let dishes pile up in the sink and on the counter till nary a clean one could be found, had music playing at all hours, it was a relatively simple life. I also grew somewhat content with my friends with benefits relationship that living with Rob seemed to create. Then "The Change" happened. A friend of Jon's came to stay at the house, bunking in his room. It was easy to see, right from the start, that for whatever reason Chris did NOT like me. It was in his attitude, his mannerisms, his looks, he just did not like me being in that house. Ironic to me, really, since HE was the newbie in my eyes. I kept reminding myself that he was just a house guest, we had lots of house guests come and go, and he would eventually go.

Boy was I in for a rude surprise. Phil and his estranged wife started making amends to their relationship. Then there was talk of him moving out. All of a sudden I was confronted by Rob and Jon, asking me would I mind if they asked Chris to move in permanently. Well HELL YES I minded! I knew from the moment he had 'permanent' status in the house that life would become unbearable for me. But how could I say no? I knew we needed a fourth person to afford to keep the house, and where else would we all go? So I grudgingly agreed. They promised me Chris wouldn't be a problem. They promised he'd be on his best behaviour toward me. They were wrong.

He got his own room, right above my basement one. I think maybe one second had passed after he'd gotten the last of his things into his room before his stereo kicked in, with the volume loud enough to rattle everything on my shelves. That was just the beginning. What followed soon after was a six month battle of wills. I fought with Chris, I fought with my feelings towards Rob, and I fought with my own growing depression. At one point or another I lost all three battles, which landed me a very brief stay in the hospital. It was only after being medicated to help fight off the overwhelming demons of depression that I began to regain my perspective. My happiness was NOT worth losing to keep the other three in the house. They'd just have to figure something out without me. I made arrangements to move out, to Vancouver no less, to become a live-in Nanny. I figured, if I could survive a year with three single guys, I could certainly take care of three kids!

So I left. I took the lessons learned along with many MANY stories and memories, and definitely not all bad ones. Also, for those keeping track, that former roommate of mine, Jon, is now my husband and father of my three beautiful children. I think everyone needs a little pink house in their past to look back on! Some day I may write a book ;)

Magic Card Mayhem

On a typical morning, when my husband has a 12pm to 8pm work shift, he gets up with the kids. This is mostly because of my love of sleeping late, his love for me, and so that the kids get some Daddy time because they'll be asleep when he gets home. Every other week he works this shift, and at least once or twice I offer to get up, so that he may enjoy the fulfillment of a few extra hours of zzz's. Today was supposed to be one of those mornings. To my pleasant surprise, the kids slept in till 8am, making my morning quite a bit less groggy. Still, as semi-alert as I happened to be, as I took the kids into the living room for their morning diaper changes, I missed a crucial detail as I passed through the kitchen. Even though that small detail was missed by me, it did NOT get missed by my toddlers. Hannah, the first to be done with her diaper change, happily returned to the kitchen while I focused my attention on changing Hailey. Then my darling 4 1/2 yr old pipes up:

"Look what Hannah did!"



I hate those four words with a passion. Those four words never mean anything positive. Its never "Look, Hannah put her toys away!" or "Hannah dressed herself!" No, those four words always mean Hannah has managed to UNdo something. So upon going into the kitchen to inspect the damage, I assumed I'd be looking at the contents of one cupboard or another magically spread out across the laminate floor. This morning I was in for a new surprise however, and it DID happen to be a magical one, also it happened to be entirely my husband's fault!



My husband plays a card game called Magic. He and his friends have played it for years. In those years, they have amassed a very large collection of cards. From time to time, usually a night or two before they are about to get together to play the game, my husband will bring out his cards. After the kids are in bed, he'll sit at the table, arranging particular cards into various piles that they call 'decks'. These decks are usually no less than 100 cards in size, and can get a fair bit larger from what I've seen of his organization. You would think that, after this carefully designed organizational routine, my dear husband would then put these piles and piles of thoughtful consideration into a safe spot at the end of the night. Safe, as far as Magic cards go, is NOT the kitchen table. In fact the kitchen table has not been a safe spot for anything other than indestructible plastic since both Hannah and Hailey learned to scale it like a mountain a few months back. Can you see where this is going? Would you like a visual aid?

This is just a little bit more extreme than a game of 52 card pick-up. It is also waaaaay beyond what I signed up for when agreeing to get up with the kids. Therefore, to prevent any more damage and destruction as both Hailey AND Dakota would love to help with, I got all three kids into their respective seats and placed their breakfast before them as a distraction. I ignored the disarray long enough to make myself a cup of tea. Less than 45 minutes after I had left our bedroom, I returned once again, waking my dear husband from his slumber.

"As a public service to you, and your investments," I announced to him calmly, "I am offering you the opportunity to go and clean up the result of your error in judgement before I get the girls out of their highchairs, and preferably before they start throwing soggy cereal at your pretty display of Magic cards."

So up he got, quite quickly I might add, dashing to the kitchen in his boxers to hastily gather together his Magic 'the gathering' cards before any more dastardly harm could befall them. As for me, as I sip my tea in the comfort of our quiet bedroom, in front of this computer, well I believe the morning has gone quite nicely so far!

Parents who Fail on Purpose

I totally understand becoming a parent by accident, as it is quite easy to end up pregnant for some people. However once you have that little bundle in your arms, or even as a little bun in your oven, you are supposed to be responsible for it. I don't care by what means it took to conceive, whether it was a few seconds or a few years, you become a parent the moment you (or your partner) become pregnant. THAT is fact. Another fact though, is that many parents are failing their children, and some are failing on purpose. Those who choose to continue any of the following while pregnant, for example: smoking, drinking, drugs. Then there are those who continue their selfish lifestyles AFTER the baby is born. There was a case in Vancouver recently, of a man who went out for a night of drinking in a local pub. The waitress overheard him say to his drinking buddies: "Just a sec I gotta go check on my kids." The worried server tipped off the police, and they followed the bar patron back to his vehicle where they found two children, 2yrs old and 4months old, strapped in their car seats. Not only were they in distress because they were trapped in a locked car on one of our hottest days this summer, but at some point, after being out drinking, it was evident that this man intended to drive the kids home in his intoxicated state!

My other example is a little closer to home for me, as it is the failure of a mother who at one point I considered a very close friend. By all accounts she seemed like a great success as a single mother to her young son. Being that he was so close in age to my own son, the four of us spent a lot of time together, I even provided daycare for her when she needed it. Then, when our boys were 2 1/2 yrs old, she met a man. Within a few short months, she moved in with him, stopped talking to most of her friends and her family, and cut her little boy off from all the people who loved him. About 3 months after that, her son was apprehended by the ministry of children and families in Canada, and both the mother and boyfriend were charged with child abuse. I will not go into the details of the abuse, as they are painful and heart wrenching, and not at all the point of my re-telling. The point, is that while her son is now in the custody of his loving grandmother, this 'mother' has chosen to remain with her boyfriend. She has chosen a man she's been with less than two years, over her own baby. How do people who have brought innocent children into this world keep making such SELFISH choices? The very idea of it makes me sick.

My three children are the brightest lights in my life, and they have been that since I got that positive little sign on the pregnancy test. I am by no means a perfect parent, I don't believe any exist. However I would never willingly fail my children on purpose. I also refuse to associate with anyone who would so callously handle their own children in such a way as to put them in harm's way. I also firmly believe there should be MUCH harsher punishments doled out for such failing parents. One has to wonder the conversations that could take place between parent and child later on down the road... "Hey Mom, why'd you beat on me and abandon me when I was a kid?"

Depression Sucks

So this is my new blog, and instead of introducing myself and being all nicey-nice, I thought I'd just get right to what this blog is for me. Its my opinion. Or opinions I guess. I am going to blog about the things that matter most to me. Now in the ordinary world, those things would be my kids, however, being a rather well-rounded individual, they are not the only things I have to talk about! Since my day to day life has to revolve around them, being that they are two toddlers and an almost 5 yr old, my blog is going to go deeper than that. How deep, you might ask. Well, how about depression, for my first topic?

I was recently very sickened by some comments on my parenting message board, toward a news report of someone with depression. This person was threatning to jump off a bridge, and because he was holding up traffic, an enraged driver pushed him off. That story is bad enough, but to have someone else say 'good for him for pushing him', I'm sorry but that is just plain awful.

Depression isnt something anyone WANTS to get. Its not something like a fad, or a trend that people willingly adopt. Those who are lucky enough to have never experienced it, can not ever truly comprehend the actions of those who do suffer from it. Depression doesnt discriminate by age, by sex, by race, or by religion. It can worm its way into the mind of just about anyone, all it needs is a seed of insecurity, watered by the right circumstances, and there you go. Another problem is, that once it establishes itself, it never ever intends to leave. Sure there are therapies out there to combat it, to lull it into unconciousness, but it never truly does ever leave for good. This is why belittling the threat of suicide is so wrong. Especially on a public message board. You dont know who has it, who has overcome it, or who has lost someone to it. Depression's most painful faces are the ones who couldnt beat it. The ones who kept their struggle so silent that even their closest companions had no idea until it was too late.

I have a small inclination of what those last moments feel like, as depression has driven me many times to do things that could be potentially fatal. As hard as I've tried to drown it out, even moving across Canada, it kept worming its way back into my brain, feeding off my every insecurity. However as you can tell by my blog today, I have not yet given up the fight. On the contrary, I have been winning for several years now, thanks in part to my loving family and friends. Those closest to me understand some of my demons, and have helped me successfully control them. But then there are those message board comments. Those callous few who act like depression is some sort of excuse to cover purposely self-destructive behaviour. It. Is. Not. It is about as voluntary as a root-canal or amputation.

So the next time there's a story about someone so obviously depressed, I really hope there is a tad bit better showing of compassion. There is nothing funny about mental illness, and I still cant believe there are people who are so ignorant as to make light of it!