Two Steps Back

I am feeling conflicted--I want to believe that I am making the right choice but I am so worried that the outcome is not going to be a pretty sight. I am asking for a lot to make this happen and what if I am wrong? Do I turn tail and come back? What if the kids dont adjust or my marriage doesnt hold up? What if the next school makes me pine for the one I am leaving? What if. what if. what if.

I am up way past the time for sleeping; all the kids are nestled in soft slumber and I am sitting up, mulling over all the things that need to be done, the house that still needs to be lived in for half a year and yet it feels like it is pressing down on me to begin.

Purging is one of the joys and sorrows of moving--you find things long forgotten, throw away things you lost an attachement for, remember and release emotions that swim up to the surface of your life.

I love it. I hate it. The thought of moving makes me feel nauseated and elated all at the same time. I want the imagined life that I could lead--will it be a reality? Do I still have a support system there or am I just hopeful that I can find my footing in one again? Will my next work environment really drive me forward or will I flounder once more? Can I live with myself if it is all for naught?

Added pressure: D says this next house is the last one he wants to move into--in other words it is supposed to be our "forver" home--is there such a thing? What if we change our minds? Do we choose a house based on the house? what about schools? jobs? neighbourhoods? convenience?

Ugh. And so it goes...

Holidailies: Baby, it's cold outside

"I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside
I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside..."

Now that I have made a decision, working towards it is fraught with new issues and yet, somehow, I feel so much more relaxed. I suppose that humans are always more stressed in times of uncertainty--the world, perhaps, on this cusp of new is climbing out of the hole it has found itself within and is only now starting to find its footing.

"...I've got to go home..."

I wont say that coming up here was a mistake, because it wasnt. It was a path that was necessary to where we are now--when we first came up our goals were simple: get experience in our career paths, build equity in our home and set ourselves in a positive financial picture. I am grateful for everything that coming here has afforded us. The lack of support, the difficult work environment, the cramping quarters of our home have shown us that it is time for new plans and now that I am starting to formulate what those plans will look like it is daunting but not impossible.

"...But don't you see - How can you do this thing to me
There's bound to be talk tomorrow - Making my life long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied - If you caught pneumonia and died
I really can't stay - Get over that old out
Ahh, but it's cold outside

Baby it's cold outside"

I think that part of what I need to reconcile in my head is that the long run is going to be worth the short term difficulties. It is worth it to create some moments of anxiety because we need to make this happen sooner rather than later.

So I have a list of home renovations that should be done before we put the house on the market, there are decisions that I have been putting off about our material possesions that need to be finalized and we need to agree on a general timeline (which I think D has already tentaively settled on) to make this happen.

It is time to pinch the pennies and as I look to 2011, it may be cold outside but I think I am ready to face it.

Holidailies: Thankful

"Somedays, we forget to look around us,
Somedays, we can't see the joy that surrounds us,
so caught up inside ourselves,
we take when we should give,
so for tonight we pray for,
what we know can be,
and on this day we hope for,
what we still can't see,
It's up to us, to be the change,"

I got up this morning and painted. There is something to be said for the calm tranquility of mornings, even ones that come after restless nights with fussing babies. It is that moment when the world is just starting to rouse, the kids trudge sleepily from their beds, stumble down to the breakfast table and mumble under their breaths. It is the moment of soft milk mouths and warm little bodies, snuggled up blankets and fluttering eyes.

As I set up the paints it felt good to feel the colours fold gently against one another, to hear the rustle of the paper, the softness of the brush.

"and even though we all can still do more,
there's so much to be thankful for,
look beyond ourselves,
there's so much sorrow,
it's way to late to say, I'll cry tomorrow
each of us must find our truth,
it's so long overdue,
so for tonight we pray for,
what we know can be,"

I have come to some epiphanies lately and uncertain as things may feel, I also feel more centered, more aware of my own intention and filled with expectation for what lies ahead. As a type A personality, being in a state of flux is unsettling but I know that what I am setting out to do is important.

"and everyday, we hope for,
what we still can't see,
it's up to us, to be the change,
and even though we all can still do more,
there's so much to be thankful for,
even with our differences,
there is a place WE'RE all connected,"

I am thankful for the outreach of help, the small tenderness's of the morning, the anticipation of progress, the setting of new goals

"each of us can find each others light,
So for tonight, we pray for
what we know can be,
and on this day, we hope for,
what we still can't see,
it's up to us, to be the change,
and even though this world needs so much more
there's so much to be thankful for"

And so I throw this feeling out into the great beyond, hoping that it casts its net forward and captures other people along the way. There is today I have to deal with. But, as each paint stroke on the paper reveals the painting I didnt know I was creating until it was done, so too is this moment showing me what I am capable of and what lies ahead.

Just a note

You just have to read this because it is so a reflection of my life.

Holidailies: Where are you Christmas?

Where are you Christmas?
Why can't I find you?
Why have you gone away?
Where is the laughter
You used to bring me?
Why can't I hear music play?

I hate to be a downer on the holidays; I'd like to be able to sing the carols and drink the eggnog because I feel it in my heart and not just go through the motions for the sake of the children. I have put up the lights, set up the Christmas village and decked the halls but I still dont feel it.

My world is changing
I'm rearranging
Does that mean Christmas changes too?

Instead, I have a decision that weighs on me like a stone that is holding me down. I feel like there is a proverbial shoe waiting to drop as people wait for whatever decision I make. Why I feel like it is my choice that everything hinges upon or why invariably someone will be upset and hurt by the choice I make, I dont know, It isnt a choice that is made lightly or without thought but everyone has an opinion and no matter what in this life, you cant please everyone.

Where are you Christmas
Do you remember
The one you used to know
I'm not the same one
See what the time's done
Is that why you have let me go

I want so badly to make the *right* choice--the one that will have my heart bursting into the Hallelujah chorus, replete with choirs of angels singing and so on--but instead I have quiet epiphanies in bustling grocery aisles. There is a voice inside me that says "I think it has to be like this" and I know that it is ringing true in my heart but I am a coward and I am afraid of the consequences of that choice.

When I gave the thought breath outside my own head last night, in the stillness of night where I could hide under cover of darkness, the reaction was as I feared and the silence was unending. And in the light of morning, the unsettled feeling has not dissipated and I am still afraid. Why does life have to be so hard?

I need to repeat to myself the fact that I am NOT walking away from my life. I am not making a selfish decision. I am not doing something with the purpose to harm someone else. but I am needing to make a decision that helps me to start living life again, rather than this farce that life has become. I am needing to find the spirit of Christmas that will speak to me once again of peace in my heart, of laughter in my life, of happy days and quiet nights.

Christmas is here
Everywhere, oh
Christmas is here
If you care, oh

If there is love in your heart and your mind
You will feel like Christmas all the time

I feel you Christmas
I know I've found you
You never fade away
The joy of Christmas
Stays here in silence
Fills each and every heart with love

Where are you Christmas
Fills your heart with love

And so it goes...

Holidailies: There's always tomorrow

From Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer

There's always tomorrow,
For dreams to come true,
Believe in your dreams
Come what may.

I get frustrated when the kids move slowly--I often ask them to speed up whether it is eating meals, getting dressed, cleaning up, etc. They are sidetracked by other, more appealing, things to do and I just want the job to get done.

But I guess, when I look at myself, I really shouldnt fault them for the way they are because it is the way I am too. Perhaps I am frustrated that they are turning into me. Hours of therapy have showed me that the things I am hardest on the kids for are things that I perceive in myself as problematic and annoying. How on earth is it that I think nagging them will make it better? I dont know.

There's always tomorrow,
With so much to do,
And so little time in a day.

As time wears on the kids grow older and more outspoken with each passing day, I realize more and more that I havent done nearly enough to nurture their hopes and their dreams; I know that I am being hard on myself today but I feel it sharply today that I dont ask them what they want most of the time, that I dont cherish the small conversations we used to have (and dont have as much anymore) and that I havent spent enough time with each one of them.

We all pretend
The rainbow has an end
And you'll be there my friend someday.

There is time yet, perhaps, to turn things around; admitting it is the first step of any process, right? I dont know where the road is going to lead us--the decisions we will make in the near future will affect this road to a huge extent, but our attitude as we set forth will help to make the kids resilient to the changes that are approaching.

There's always tomorrow,
For dreams to come true,
Tomorrow is not far away.

I am nervous. Anxious almost to the point of paralysis and some days I feel like I shouldnt make any decisions in case they turn out to be the wrong ones. But in my head I also know that inertia is also a choice and staying in a place that isnt healthy or positive will never produce healthy or positive emotions in the kids either.

We all pretend,
The rainbow has an end,
And you'll be there my friend someday.

Some people say we can only deal with each day, as it comes, but without a long term idea, I think it will all fall apart. When I married D, I told him that we dont look at our feet when we walk down a path and that one could help the other if they stumbled along the way. I guess I need to stop staring at my feet, since doing so has only led me to resent how I go where I am in this journey. Now that we have reached the end of our old plan, we need to make new ones.


There's always tomorrow,
For dreams to come true,
Tomorrow is not far away.

Holidailies: Do They Know It's Christmastime At All?

"It's Christmastime
There's no need to be afraid
At Christmastime, we let in light and we banish shade
And in our world of plenty we can spread a smile of joy
Throw your arms around the world at Christmastime"

Every year we say that we are going to downsize Christmas. Every year we vow to spend less and do more. How does it always get away from us? I think it is because of guilt.

But say a prayer

Pray for the other ones
At Christmastime it's hard, but when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
And it's a world of dread and fear
Where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears
And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging
chimes of doom
Well tonight thank God it's them instead of you

We want to teach the kids to be grateful for what they have, to see that they are so privileged and lucky to have a mom and dad who love them, to have family close, to see that the roof overhead and food in their belly isnt something that every kid has. It's a hard lesson to understand when all you have known is a life of "have" instead of "have not". I am not looking for excuses for us, but it is true that we buy in excess to make up for the unhappiness that perhaps we feel. We feel guilt for working long hours, guilt for not wanting to get down on the floor and play Barbie again, guilt at short temper flares and unfulfilled dreams.

And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmastime
The greatest gift they'll get this year is life
(Oooh) Where nothing ever grows
No rain nor rivers flow
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?

Of course life could always be worse--but on the other hand, life could also be better. What will it take to make that shift from trying to compensate for the little things that I know in my head matter so much more than the material ones and just doing it? I wish I knew--maybe it would help them to see that even though the kids in African might not know that it is Christmastime with lots of presents and Santa and snow, they might be happier if they appreciate the little things around them.

(Here's to you) raise a glass for everyone
(Here's to them) underneath that burning sun
Do they know it's Christmastime at all?

Time and time again we hear stories from our globe trotting friends who tell us how much more appreciative the people are elsewhere when they receive the smallest thing. They take it into their heart with the knowledge that, for this moment, gratitude is the most important emotion and the world is filled with goodwill.

For them, perhaps, Christmastime is a feeling that arrives anytime of the year and is not something that needs holly berries and a trip to the mall.

Holidailies: Walking in a Winter Wonderland

"Sleigh bells ring, are you listening,
In the lane, snow is glistening
A beautiful sight,
We're happy tonight.
Walking in a winter wonderland."

The weather has been warming up the last few days, which means that it will start to snow. And snow and snow and snow. On the one hand, I welcome the snow--it covers all the ugliness that is post-autumn here in the Mac. There is something soothing about the large flakes that settle on the bushes and trees, softening the world outside.

Gone away is the bluebird,
Here to stay is a new bird
He sings a love song,
As we go along,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

When I first moved here, I was enchanted with the winter birds that hang about--giant crows, squawking blackbirds and little chickadees. They all seemed so hardy and I admired their resourcefulness and chutzpah of sticking it out in tough living conditions.

On garbage day I saw that people in the neighbourhood often covered up their garbage with blankets and sheets. I first scoffed at how "dainty" people must think themselves to be to not even want people to see that they *gasp* put garbage out on the *curb* once a week. I literally laughed out loud at the thought that these pick up truck driving red necks would feel this way. I brushed it off as an Easterner thing that they must have brought out West.

I said so out loud one day at work and got *that look* from someone who retorted that the reason for covering the garbage was to keep it from the birds. I was confused--what did they mean "keep it from the birds"? And then I discovered the menace that is scavenging birds--huge and loud in their daily habits; The birds, aided in part by their huge size, would rip open the bags and spread the trash down the street like a smorgasbord of leftovers, wrappers and detritus. Ahhh, the delights of wildlife about town.

In the meadow we can build a snowman,
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown

He'll say: Are you married?
We'll say: No man,
But you can do the job
When you're in town.

Later on, we'll conspire,
As we dream by the fire
To face unafraid,
The plans that we've made,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

Now that the tree is up, the kids enjoy the twinkle of the tree lights, fidgeting with the ornaments and tell me that they are hopeful that one day we will have a fireplace to have a fire and a mantle for the stockings.

In the meadow we can build a snowman,
And pretend that he's a circus clown
We'll have lots of fun with mister snowman,
Until the other kids knock him down.

The kids are, of course, thrilled with the snow. It isnt the right type of snowfall to make snowmen but they dont let that distract them. As they like to say in Alberta, it's a dry cold ;) and we watch as the snow continues to fall...

When it snows, ain't it thrilling,
Though your nose gets a chilling
We'll frolic and play, the Eskimo way,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

Making choices

I am getting geared up to do Holidailies again and figure I should start flexing my writing muscle by writing every day. It is hard to squeeze in the time to write, to try to formulate the words so they are more coherent and to ward off the editing bug that makes me delete posts after writing them out.

We just returned from a trip to Edmonton and while it is lovely to be back home, amongst routine and comforting things, I feel a bit sad to disconnect from a world where I have people to visit with and places to go.

In the next little while we have to make big decisions and I don't know that I am ready to commit to them but I know that there will never truly be a time when I feel 100% ready to do things and sometimes we just have to bite the bullet and jump in with both feet.

I remember a time when I was younger that I would do just that and the exhilaration and fear that would accompany big (and sometimes rash) choices was part of what made life worth living. But I have other considerations now and feel more than a little anxious about making any decisions, never mind life altering ones.

1. Stay.
(which then begs the question: work or not and if the answer is work, then: where?)
2. Go
(which of course means, buying, selling, packing, moving; also, working? where?)

Each big decision leads to more decisions and each question doesnt just have an answer, it opens a path in a completely different direction and brings up more questions to have to find answers to.

It doesn't help that the decision I want to make is fraught with people who think that it is their place to tell us whether our decision is a good one or not. Cant they see that I am having a hard enough time making a decision without their input (which is usually one sided and can not take everything into consideration) Giving support is one thing, being told that every choice we make is the wrong one is NOT supportive.

YARGH

Conversations with Natalie: 6 weeks along

Well, it has been just over 6 weeks since Natalie and I have had face to face conversations.

In utero our conversations consisted mostly of me discussing which body part I thought I could identify from the way they stuck out of my sides (mostly) and where the baby's bum was relative to the head. It wasnt quite gripping conversation but it did eventually evolve into the poke game that I played with all the babies--baby would kick or punch me, i would poke back in the general vicinity of the kick and the baby would kick again. Lather, rinse, repeat. Many of our conversations revolved around me commenting loudly about baby settling down in there or finding a better place to put feet than inside my ribs. Scintillating, I know.

In the 6 weeks than have passed, however, our conversations have a decidedly more food centric focus. I often find myself saying things like "What do you mean you want more? There is no more. Milk bar needs to refill for awhile. Why dont you, like, have a nap or something?" or "Hi baby! Time to wake up now so that the milk you build up cluster feeding last night is now ready for you! Baby? Hello? Bueller?"

But in the last week or so, things have taken an exciting turn--she is now more awake AND is interested in doing something other than eating. Yes, indeed, I can catch her looking at the faces around her and can persuade her to coo at least 5% of the time. Not a good track record but hey, I was batting zero before so anything is an improvement, right?

It is an exciting time, watching her unfold like this, moment to moment; even though I have done this three times before, each one is so miraculous as they move from internal parasite to external one to independence. I am enchanted with her and cant wait to see her fierce character develop into her true voice.

Where did 2010 go?

I cant believe that it has been almost a full year since I last posted. In some ways I can think of many places that I have let my thoughts disappear into (Crackbook, ahem, I mean, Facebook) despite the lack of scope that FB offers and the unpleasant realities of the inevitable disconnect that is covered with the facade of making connections with people in real life. I mean, if I read your status and look at your pictures, I know what is going on in your life, right? So why should I bother to email or give you a call and ask what the hell you've been up to? I am not a pot calling the kettle black, I am in the belly of the beast and am so guilty it isnt even funny.

Still, a whole year of missing out on the small minutae that is blogging seems like an utter shame.

I can say this with ultimate certainty. 2010 was one of the hard ones. Not as hard as 2009 but the recovery from that year has spilled over into this one and I am still clawing the walls trying to keep on trucking.

It is tempting to try to cast back and recapture some of the moments of the year so they arent lost forever but I am unsure how ready I am for that quite yet. Perhaps it will have to come piecemeal, as I plow ahead into the upcoming year and brace myself for more challenges and more uncertainty.

I know that, as I sit here, watching my baby girl stretch in the classic home run repose, arms stretched overhead, legs stretching straight out and then resettling back into peaceful slumber, that I am in a better place than I was in the last post I made and I am so so thankful for that.

And so it goes...

Holidailies: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Have yourself a merry little Christmas.
Let your heart be light,
From now on our troubles
Will be out of sight.

It was the last day of classes before the holidays which meant that I would be dealing with low attendance, hyper kids and random frenzies. Not surprisingly, I am tired. Exhausted last night, I fell into bed without completing the myriad of things I had wanted to accomplish before I was supposed to be abed--small things like snacks for the kids who would bother to come to see me on "National Skip Day", bags to bring home the stuff that needed to come home with me for the holidays (hello 5 sweaters draped artistically across my computer chair), and cards for the teachers I hadnt written to yet, colleagues I wanted to appreciate with a small note and a wish.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas,
Make the Yule-tide gay,
From now on our troubles
Will be miles away.

The last one was most important to me. I feel like I lean quite heavily on the people around me to help to lift me up, to support me and keep me afloat. In a profession that is quite isolating, finding those pockets of people who will share a shoulder, give you a laugh and make you feel less robotic, means everything. And so, I brought my cards (blank ones that I felt the need to fill up) to school with me and decided to spend my free moment (ha!) making my appreciation visible.

Here we are as in olden days,
Happy golden days of yore,
Faithful friends who are dear to us
Gather near to us once more.

I dont regret sloughing some things in order to create those moments of amazement for people and while I can never truly respond to the comments "Where do you find the time to do this??" or "I cant believe you spend so much time on this!" I think it will always be thus.

A bunch of first year, new to the community, cant afford to fly back home this Christmas, people (who might otherwise miss out on a Christmas dinner) are coming over on Sunday. I dont know if I have, as usual, committed myself to too much, but I will make it work. As they say something is better than nothing. Fellowship is so important to me and hosting a gathering to create that fellowship can only bring more Christmas into our home and for that chance, I am grateful.

Through the years
We all will be together
If the Fates allow,
Hang a shining star
On the highest bough,
And have yourself
A merry little Christmas now

And so it goes...

Holidailies: Let It Snow

Oh the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place to go,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

Last week was the coldest week on record in Alberta. -50C (-72F for another frame of reference) is an unbearable kind of chill. It is the weather that exists only in polar regions and should never involve the words "work" or "on time" or "not so bad". And yet we slogged through--I went to work, I sent my kids to school (walking some days!) and almost everyone in my classes attended. It was dark when I came to work and it was dark again when I left. I suppose you could say I was surviving but only just barely.

It doesn't show signs of Pausing,
And I've bought some corn for popping,
The lights are turned way down low,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

Survival is a coping mechanism, I think, that allows people the luxury of pretending that everything is Ok, that things have not frozen themselves into a state of inaction.

We have had some blackout periods in the last week--when it is so dark the night has no respite from the inkiness that spreads from horizon to horizon, it is a frightening thing.

On one night in particular, I was driving along when the power went out and suddenly my only frame of reference was the circle of light cast by my headlights. I felt alone, isolated, afraid and a little exhilarated. It was so novel to trust in the lay of the land, to notice the small nuances of the drive, the lines of headlights that stretched before me and behind me.

When the lights came back up I was disoriented, like rediscovering the truths of the world, the things that I hadn't noticed before coming up into the brightness of the artificial day. And I felt glad, suddenly, the fear of the moment fading away as the twinkle of the lights lit up my children and my home crackled to life once again.

The fire is slowly dying,
And, my dear, we're still good-bying,
But as long as you love me so,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

And so it goes...

Holidailies: Let There Be Peace On Earth

Let there be peace on earth
And let it begin with me
Let there be peace on earth
The peace that was meant to be

In the year 1896, according to Alfred Nobel's will, the Nobel Peace Prize was established and stipulated that it be awarded to the person who:

“during the preceding year [...] shall have done the most or the best work for fraternity between nations, for the abolition or reduction of standing armies and for the holding and promotion of peace congresses”

The 2009 Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to Barack Hussein Obama today in Oslo, Norway on the 113th anniversary of Alfred Nobel’s death. Much has passed from that day to this and we continue to value the idea of peace, especially at this time of year.

With God as our Father
Brothers all are we
Let me walk with my brother
In perfect harmony

Christmas often heralds messages of goodwill and unity and serenity. What drives us apart are often the very things that will bring us together—desire for cooperation, importance of individuality, value for democracy; it is interesting to me that Obama’s acceptance speech, then, included many references to the fact that " instruments of war do have a role to play in preserving the peace."

Let peace begin with me
Let this be the moment now
WIth every step I take
Let this be my solemn vow

Can I accept this paradox “O brawling love, o loving hate?” that strengthens and justifies the actions of the few to benefit the many? Is this slender olive branch extended tenuously across the breach a way to say that our actions are sanctified and right? Do we have the right to say that what we fight for is any more or less worthy than those “whose names [we] tender as dearly as [our] own?” and shall we, after all, “be satisfied”? Words that lack conscience, perhaps, since, without explanation, our actions do not reflect our truths.

And our truths have been thus: we play games of blame, we are masters of feelings of convenience, we lack empathy, unless we bear the brunt of the pain, we teach our children, unwittingly perhaps, that our family matters more than other families, and that as long as we work hard, keep our heads down and don’t rock the boat, all will be well.

Ours is a world of sickness—ill in the hearts of men who cannot look beyond the four walls of our personal castles, our pie in the sky dreams, and our delusions of grandeur. We suffer from closing out communities and shunning our neighbours. We suffer because we do not the direction in which to heal.

Once a year we take a moment to honour those who fought in war so that we may live in selfish peace. What of those who fight on? What of those who die in selfless war? There are no answers to my questions, I think. I, too am guilty, as we all are in our materialistic narcissism, but perhaps on this day, where one man is heralded as a harbinger of peace, a poor player whose accomplishments are yet to be realized and whose brief hour is still strutting and fretting upon the world's stage, I await to hear this tale, full of sound and fury, and hope that it does not signify nothing.

To take each moment and live
each moment in peace eternally
Let there be peace on earth
and let it begin with me

And so it goes...

Holidailies: What Child Is This?

What child is this, who, laid to rest,
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?

There are no words to sugarcoat the pain, no tidings of joy this sad day. But perhaps tidings of comfort will rise on the winds of a nation grieving for the story of this small boy.

Two days lost in the woods, two days of anguish, a fraction of relief at his discovery, the heartbreak of his injuries, the mourning that begins.

These are small times that ope the floodgates of a nation; and when I heard, outside the snow began to fall lightly upon us—frozen tears to shroud the day.

Rest in peace, young James Delorey, may flights of angels sing you to your rest.

So bring him incense, gold, and myrrh,
Come, peasant, king, to own him.
the King of kings salvation brings,
Let loving hearts enthrone him.

And so it goes…

Holidailies: Believe

Children sleeping
snow is softly falling.
Dreams are calling
like bells in the distance.

Last night I awoke to find my two year old nestled next to me under the covers. I didn’t have a glimmer of consciousness as to when he had appeared in our room, never mind what had woken him from his slumber and brought him here. When our children were small, we co-slept with them and everyone had a restful night’s sleep, even if there were moments of waking and drowsing back into the softness of sleep. Eventually we weaned them to their own beds and, these days, they remain there throughout most nights. Occasionally, we will hear their bedroom doors open, the soft shuffle of feet and then a small body snuggling under the covers.

We were dreamers not so long ago.
But one by one we all had to grow up.

I am glad, somewhat, that they have grown independent enough to find ways to soothe themselves with their nighttime waking. And yet, it sends small pangs of sadness that a certain phase of parenting is done for us. I don’t miss sleepless nights, walking the floor to find that magical position that would lull a tired and unhappy soul back into the cradle of sleep, but I do miss that feeling of connectedness to my children’s dreams.

When it seems the magic slipped away,
we find it all again on Christmas day...

Julia is on the cusp of not believing. She is often told by her callous classmates the “truth” about Santa Claus and the commercialism of Christmas that lends itself more to “I’m desperate for” than “I’m grateful for” sentiment. Yet, precocious as she is, kernels of her innocence remain and I push her to reconsider the words that she hears and consider instead the message that she feels in her heart. And, like the clear ting of the bells that herald the day, she tells me that she believes and I, well, I celebrate her dreams with her.

Believe in what your heart is saying,
hear the melody that's playing.
There's no time to waste,
there's so much to celebrate.

Believe in what you feel inside,
And give your dreams the wings to fly.
You have everything you need,
If you just believe.

And so it goes...

Holidailies: Here We Come A-Wassailing

Here we come a-wassailing
Among the leaves so green,
Here we come a wand'ring,
So fair to be seen.

When the season began to get underway and we started to pull out the decorations and the tree, I was, admittedly, in a bad place. Grinchy, one might say. Things at were rough—students with high school drama that consumed their days and devoured restless nights; coworkers who were also filled with unthoughtful, unkind, abrasive high school drama; my own kids who lacked places to burn energy, people all around me who were tired and let down and angry.

The weather mirrored everyone around me—cold, fierce, miserable. The most unChristmassy mood pushed its way into me and I wasn’t immune from its callous hooks. I was angry, anxious, upset. How could I go on? I felt like I was up against a wall, trapped in a whirlwind of circumstances that were spiraling out of my control. I was hurting, crying. There was nothing giving about these days.

Love and joy come to you,
And to your wassail too,
And God bless you and send you a happy new year,
And God send you a happy new year.

And then. Some gifts. A smile of understanding, a note of support, a venting session, a laugh, and a song to uplift my heart. And, just like that, the lights began to look brighter, more festive; the tinsel shimmering rather than tacky, the bells caroling rather than clanging.

We are not daily beggars
Who beg from door to door,
But we are neighbor's children
Whom you have seen before.

A feisty undercover plan, a furtive pirate with giggles from far away days, and then, just like that, things were beautiful once again.

Today, an unexpected parcel from a friend thought forgotten. Breakfast from a coworker who thought I needed a pick-me-up. The kids in bed at a reasonable hour. All around me, there are small mercies that lift me from one day to the next and show me, in this season of giving, that love and joy will come, even in the darkest moments, if you are open to receiving.

Love and joy come to you,
And to your wassail too,
And God bless you and send you a happy new year,
And God send you a happy new year.

And so it goes...

Awesome proposal

The wedding proposal of my friend JonJon to his gf Paula. I met JonJon through the UAMC and have always admired his big heart, incredible talent (hello beatbox master!) and unstoppable faith.



Congratulations JonJon and Paula. May God bless you always

Rachel and Kevin's First Dance

I was able to make it down to Edmonton to surprise Rachel and Kevin on their wedding day. The hectic few days leading up to it were punctuated by the sudden and unwelcome appearance of CHICKEN POX in Julia, random mysterious NON CHICKEN POX RASH on Elena and general malaise in Jacob, none of which boded well for wedding festivities. I was crushed at the idea of missing the wedding and by the Grace of my awesome family and nanny, managed to finangle a plane ticket, a ride to the church and then took the midnight Greyhound back home to Fort Mac. It was hectic, beautiful and something I will never regret attending.



July 4, 2009
"Feels like Home"

Nevermore-Epilogue