Welcome to my Asylum!

A place to empty my head of the random musing and mumblings that populate it on a daily basis.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts

Thursday, 11 April 2013

She's growing up....

Freyja turned 8 yesterday.

I remember being 8. I felt like I was growing up faster than my friends, and a year later I started my period and pretty much decided that all those childish things were too immature.

Freyja has always held on to her childishness tightly, she hasn't wanted to grow up. This week though, for reasons we had no control over, my baby has shown just how mature she is becoming in some ways.

On Monday we found out that the victim of the truck crash last week was the Dad of one of her best friends. Lee and I had met him several times, and I have to say he was a lovely man, always smiling and joking, clearly a devoted father and husband. It was terrible finding out that the victim of that awful scene was a man we knew, and especially for Freyja, that it was her friends' Daddy.

Monday evening she cried lots, as did I. She worried about me and her Daddy dying in an accident. But mostly she worried about her friend. "How could it be her Daddy?" she asked "I just don't understand Mommy, why would God take such a nice man away from his family". "How will M manage without her Daddy? How can I make her feel better?"

So many questions that I just didn't have the answer to.

Tuesday she went to school and there was a grief counsellor there for the kids to talk to. She talked, she listened, and when they said that there should be 2 kids to meet her friend when she came back to school, Freyja put her hand up and said she had to be one of them, because they had known each other the longest and she knew her friend would need her help.

Wednesday, it was her birthday. She turned 8. She went to the Aggie Days with school. She opened presents and we all had KFC for dinner at her request. It was her day.

Thursday, today, her first thought was again for her friend. She comes back to school today. Freyja disappeared as we were about to leave the house and came back with a favourite stuffed dog. I told her stuffies weren't allowed at school.

"Its not for me" she said " Its for M. She comes back to school today and I think she will need something to hug sometimes, so this is for her to keep, so she can hug it and feel better and know I love her".

Only 8 and so grown up......

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Happy Birthday Fidgetty Widget!

When I was pregnant with Freyja, my sister-in-law was expecting at the same time, and the baby who would become Charlotte was known as "Bean".  As "Bean' was no longer a family option for a nickname for our bundle to be, we started calling 'it' "Widget".  This soon became "Fidgetty Widget" as that little baby on board never kept still.  She's been the same ever since.

Today, my little tornado turns 8!  At 4.04pm GMT (9.05am here in Calgary) my little girl moves that step closer to being a woman, and I'm scared!

Its been quite a week in our house, good and also, pretty much as bad as you can get.  At the weekend, she went off to Brownie Camp.  I dropped her off Friday night, and barely managed to get her to stop chatting with her friends long enough to say goodbye to her sister and I, a sign of how grown up and independant she is getting.  When I collected her on Sunday though, I got a huge hug and "I missed you" whispered in my ear.

While she had a great time at camp, impressed the leaders with her enthusiasm and her behaviour, she also missed her family and even had a little cry at night.  While I hate that she was upset, a little part of me is happy that there is enough child in there to still miss a night time hug and kiss.

When she came home on Sunday, she told me how she had been worrying all weekend that I was going and never coming back, that something was going to happen.  Nothing did happen, of course, but my sensitive little girl was maybe picking up something in the cosmos.

On Monday, I got a call from the school asking me to collect Freyja as she was not feeling well.  I left work, went and got her, much to her surprise as she had expected her Daddy, and took her home.  She had a tummy ache that wouldn't go away, so we went through all the questions.  Did you eat your lunch?  Did you eat the fruit or just the bad stuff?  Did you eat properly at camp this weekend?  Did you drink enough water at camp?  How about at school?  Did you go to the bathroom at camp?

The answer to the last question turned out to be 'No" so I figured I had my answer and promptly ordered her to the bathroom with a book to "give it a try".  Success, but still a tummy ache that persisted.  I dutifully set her up in my bed with a glass of water and the TV remote.  I then began making phone calls to find out which of her friends was coming to her party this coming weekend as I hadn't had RSVPs.  "I don't think M is coming" she says as I'm about to call.  I make the call and her Grandma answers, not her Mom, and sure enough M isn't coming.  I tell her she was right.  "I thought she wouldn't because K said today that M's Dad died in a truck accident last week"

Oh My God !!!!!!

There had been a horrific accident involving a tractor trailer on the main route near our home the week before, but it was Easter week, the kids were off school, I hadn't had a chance to read the details and Monday had been their first day back.  I got out my phone, Googled his name, and there it was, an obituary and the date of the crash......

Now I knew why my baby had a tummy ache.  She had been holding that to herself all afternoon, not knowing what to say, or if it was true.  We knew M's dad.  Not well, but enough that he and M's Mom had once come to our house and had food before we all set out Trick or Treating together one Halloween.  We'd see him at school dances and Christmas shows and chat. He was a truly nice, good man, and a wonderful father and husband.

All Monday night, Freyja would ask for hugs and squeeze tightly, she didn't want to go to bed, but finally, after an hour of cajolling, she did and amazingly she slept soundly for a few hours, not waking until around 2am.  I lay with her another hour then, and I am not sure who needed it more, me or her.  She fell asleep again, and slept till morning, waking in that resiliant way that kids do after bad news. 

She went to school Tuesday and I called to tell them we knew what had happened and was told a grief counsellor was going to be with her class that morning.  I wish I'd had one myself as I was a wreck.  We weren't close, but I knew him, I knew the horrible way his life had ended, I knew the confusion and sadness I was feeling were the same feelings my poor girl had, and like me, she was likely imagining "what if it had been her Daddy".

My big girl came home yesterday without mentioning her friend or the grief counsellor, so I mentioned it to her. "Yes" she said "it helped to talk about it. M is coming back to school on Thursday and they said two of her friends should be close to her all the time and go to meet her at the door.  I told them I should be one of them as I have known her longer than anyone, and I knew her Daddy, so I think I will be able to be a good friend and help her feel better."

Only 8 today, off to 'Aggie Days' with the school to see the animals, she will be a kid having fun again, but tomorrow, she will be that mature girl, the shoulder to support her friend.  Saturday, she will be the kid again, enjoying her party, but I know part of her will be thinking about the friend who isn't there, the friend who is at home missing her Daddy. 

My baby isn't a baby any more.  She has kept telling me she didn't want to grow up, and I kept telling her it happens to everyone, but I thought the biggest thing threatening to bring the end of childhood would be the onset of puberty....  I never thought my girl would have to deal with such big issues so soon in life, and I am so proud of how strong she is being, and how her first and continuing thought is how she can make her friend feel better, feel happy, even if just for a moment. 

What a wonderful person she is growing up to be, my sweet, kind, loving, feisty, argumentative, creative, all singing, all dancing, Fidgetty Widget xxx

Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Easter

Easter came early this year.  It didn't feel like Easter in the weeks leading up to it; snow on the ground; ice in the air; stir crazy children in a stuffy house; but the weekend of Easter the sun shone brightly, the snow melted and the windows were opened to welcome in the spring air.

Normally we don't get much of a chance to 'celebrate' Easter as it usually falls around Freyja's birthday and I am madly scrambling to finish the preparations for a party and wrapping gifts.  This year, it fell a full two weeks before her party weekend, and this coming weekend she is at Brownie camp, which gives me time, and a much more relaxed run up to her birthday as well as a much more relaxed family Easter.

It didn't exactly go to plan of course, it rarely does!  Friday was a busy day of house cleaning, with the idea of getting it all out the way so we could spend the Saturday and Sunday relaxing and doing family things.  Sadly, our neighbours, a houseful of young men barely into their twenties, still brimming with energy and lacking in consideration, decided to have yet another party until dawn.  This resulted in very little sleep for me and my better half, a restless night with nightmares for both kids, and a very groggy household as Saturday dawned.  It also resulted in a phonecall to the neighbours landlady and her saying that they had been warned "no more parties" so they are being given the boot.  Which may upset one of the tenants more than the others, as it is her son!  Better behave next time lads - this lady takes no sh*t, especially at 3am when my family can't get sleep.

So Saturday ended up being a brief foray to Home Depot to order a washing machine since ours finally lost the will to spin, and then back home for naps all round and half hearted completion of the cleaning.

I managed (amazingly) to stay up late enough on Saturday night to allow the Easter Bunny to make his entrance and leave some goodies (just some small chocolate eggs and some stickers in this house - none of the gift cards, toys and dvds here thank you!)

Easter morning began later than expected, and yet still earlier than I like, with Freyja barrelling out of her room, finding an empty basket by her door.  She charged into Rosie's room and woke her, bouncing like the Easter Bunny himself in impatience to get started.  For some reason, probably lack of sleep, I was in a crappy mood that morning.  I was getting irritated that Freyja was flitting back and forth with no method, and so was missing half the eggs.  Some eggs were missing too as the cats had decided to play with them.  Lee told me to take my tea, make my Sunday morning call to my parents, and keep out the way.  Twenty minutes and I was all better and ready to make the most of what was left of our Easter.

Lee stayed home to cook the Easter Feast as the girls, Dan and I headed to church.  I have only just returned to going to church these last few months, and I am still not completely comfortable with it.  Right now, I am there mainly for the kids.  Freyja is in a Catholic School, Rosie will follow suit, and really they need to be attending a church (though we don't attend a Catholic church).  Both girls are actually attending the Sunday School, rather than the church.  Rosie wouldn't do it for the first couple months, but now heads in to play with the other kids with barely a backward glance.  Its one of the reasons I go... to build her confidence with kids and new situations.

The church is huge!  Its an auditorium really, with classrooms surrounding it, a coffee shop, a gymnasium, a library and book shop.  It is easy to remain anonymous in there while I assess my feelings on the church, and on God.  Dan is new to the whole church thing.  He was not brought up as a church goer.  Some months before he moved over to live with us, he 'found' God.  He was baptised in the UK then, but still didn't really attend church.  He was eager to find a church which was a good fit.  I had been to this one a few times with our Landlady, and found it welcoming and not too 'preachy', so I took him a couple of times.  He really liked it and chose to be baptised again there a few weeks ago, and the kids love it, so I am attending it more in the capacity of driver right now while I enjoy an hour kid free, drink a cup of free coffee and enjoy some uplifting music and a (usually) amusing sermon.  All in all, it fits us as a family well, and I do not feel like a 'Bad Catholic'  like I do in the Catholic church which is small, so I stand out as being the person who has no idea what she is supposed to be saying or doing.

I'm still not convinced I'll ever be a 'God-Fearing Church Goer' but at least I am getting out there, working things out, and becoming part of the community.  I may not believe in the organised religion side of things, but I believe in kindness to one another, charity (not only of the financial kind, but also charity of heart), treating others with respect and in a manner you wish others to treat you.  So while I may not be joining the church properly, I think my children will be learning some good lessons in life, as I did attending Sunday School as a child, and later, they can make their own decisions on their beliefs.  After all, Free Will was one of the things given to us, so I hope they learn to use that to be good and honest and kind.

Monday, 25 March 2013

Don't Panic! Don't Panic! (But I can't help but panic...)


If you ever watched the classic British BBC comedy, ‘Dad’s Army’, you will remember Cpl Jones running around shouting ‘Don’t Panic, Don’t Panic’ every time there was an air raid siren, or any other problem for that matter, being the very definition of panic.

Outwardly, these last few months I have not been any different to usual, but inwardly, I have been very much like Jones of the Home Guard.  The world is changing, and right now, it is becoming an increasingly scary place, not for me as a person, but for me as a parent.

Screw Afghanistan, Iran, Libya and the like (though North Korea scares the crap out of me sometimes for sure), my biggest fear is the good old US of A.

Now I was born and bred in the UK, and I now live in Canada, so why would I be bothered about the USA?  They are our neighbours and friends, right?  Well, yes, they are…. And that is why I am scared….

I would love to take my kids on vacation to the USA, but right now, as a UK citizen, living in Canada, I am worried about getting through border control either way without a barrage of questions, delays and tears (some from the kids, but mainly from me).

But if I get over the border, what then?  My chances of dying increase simply by stepping foot into the United States.  Why?  GUNS!!!

This last year has seen a run of shooting incidents, a mall, a movie theatre, and most terrible, an elementary school.  When I heard about the shootings at the movie theatre and the mall, I was horrified.  So many innocent lives taken from people just going about their daily business just didn’t seem possible, but at the same time a thought goes through your head, “well that is the US for you, free access to guns and a shoot now, talk later mentality”.  There was a certain level of desensitisation, because this has happened before, in other malls, in colleges, in high schools.

But then, just a few days before Christmas, came Sandy Hook….. Elementary school kids, aged 6 and 7, the same age as my eldest girl, shot down in class by a young man who had serious mental health issues, but whose mother had been a survivalist, owning several guns, which she kept at home, where he lived with her.  She died that day, so did her son, all victims in their own ways of a society that has become accepting of gun crime almost as the norm.  This was a quiet town, a town with a friendly neighbourhood, low crime.  This wasn’t big city, gang crime.

It seemed like people all over the USA woke up that day, started to speak up, started to say that enough was enough, and the President, Barack Obama was one of those speaking out.  He was speaking, I believe, more as a father of young girls, than as the President.  He was imagining, as I and countless other parents were, “what if that had been my children”…

Changes were in the air, a new, safer USA was seen in the near future, but here we are, 3 months later, and unbelievably, it seems that the talking is quietening down.  The only people still talking loudly seem to be the NRA.  For those who have been living in a cave or an ashram somewhere, the NRA is the ‘National Rifle Association’, an organisation for those who love all things gun related.  They believe that every American should uphold their “right to bear arms” as the Constitution says.

So why did it take me three months to comment?  Well, Sandy Hook rocked me to my core.  For days I cried at news reports, at Facebook posts, at blog posts, but kept quiet.  I wanted to scream, and I did inwardly.  I cried when I looked at my daughter and her school friends and saw those beautiful children that had been ripped from their families.  I cried when my children opened their gifts on Christmas Day, and thought of those gifts in Sandy Hook that were sitting unopened, the parents who would be trying to hold it together for the siblings of the kids they had lost.  I cried at night when I couldn’t sleep, thinking of the empty beds in those houses, the toys discarded on the floors of those rooms by children rushing out to school that morning.

Why did I comment today? Several things have sparked this in my head again this weekend.  Yesterday, as I sat playing a board game with my eldest girl and my youngest was napping, I had the TV on in the background for a political debate by the contenders for the leadership of the Liberal Party here in Canada.  As I am soon applying for citizenship, I am trying to become more politically aware.  We were enjoying our game and hadn’t noticed the debate end and the news begin.  I looked up from the game while shuffling the cards and saw a news story about a young woman who had been mugged by a boy last week.  The boy appeared to be about 15 years old, and was with another younger boy that she assumed was his brother.  The boy had pulled out what she believed to be a fake gun.  The boy shot at her, grazing her head with a bullet, and shot and killed her young child, a toddler, not much younger than my baby girl.

The shock of this story, the baby being shot, the ‘gunman’ and his accomplice being only children themselves left me breathless, crying, desperate. My daughter broke me from the spell.  She too had looked up and seen my face, looked to the TV, and while the story itself was done, the ticker still showed the details.  She’s a good reader…

She took the remote and said “I think we need to turn this off now”.  She held me close as I cried, asked why I was so sad for people I didn’t know.  I told her that I was sad because the baby had been killed and it made me fear losing one of my own children.  I told her that I was sad because the people who did it were only children themselves.  I told her I was sad because the world was a scary place and I worried for them and their future.

On my way to work today, another spark lit the fire;  A news report on the radio about the NRA dropping flyers in Sandy Hook homes, encouraging people to fight for their right to bear arms.  Dear God, these people just don’t get it do they!!  Really, believe it if you must, but don’t drop flyers in the town which is still in deep grief for their lost children!!

And then I got into work, and there was the last thing to fire it up.  A blog post from one of the ‘crafty moms’ I follow.  You know the ones.  Cute pictures of kids and clothes they have made for them, quilts, recipes etc.  And today was another piece about sewing.  How can sewing get you angry about guns?  Well, today’s piece was “How to make a gun holster for the inside of your safe”.

I’m not talking about a little holster for a handgun here.  I’m talking about a full on piece of organisational kit, covering the entire door of a gun safe.  The safe in question was pictured, a few hand guns, and several rifles, at least one of them high powered, along with the assorted ammunition required to use them.  Well, at least they have a safe for them you may say. 

My argument would be, why should anyone NEED a gun safe that big, containing that many guns, in their bedroom closet (the picture showed it surrounded by hangers of clothing).  If you are a member of a gun club, can you not keep your guns there?  And why does anyone NEED that many guns?

She went through the details of the how to, with pictures, featuring her handy helper, her baby boy, around the same age as the youngster shot and killed last week.  He was sitting in pictures with the fabric laid out, playing with the scraps etc.  Now usually, my biggest worry is that he may stick himself with some of the numerous pins in the fabric, but then there were pictures of the same fabric, in the same place, pinned in the same way, WITH THE GUNS AND CLIPS IN PLACE!!!!  He wasn’t in those pictures, but when you see them in context it is pretty much a reasonable assumption that he was still in the location where she was working.

Now, I understand, you need to see that they fit, but my first thought is “What the f*** Lady!!”

Guns and the US have a long history.  The right to bear arms was important when the Constitution was written.  You needed to be able to defend yourself against invasion by humans or animals in rural and wild regions of a new land.  You had to be ready to bear arms as part of a militia in case of uprising.  They did not, I am sure, envisage the NRA and its requirement 200 years later for people to be allowed to have their own private arsenals of weapons in their homes capable of taking down a small army (or a class of Elementary School children).

I think what concerned me most about that blog post was the first sentence “First off, if you are not a lover of guns, I don't need to hear it... just skip ahead onto the next post or the next blog. Okay? Thanks!”

And that, in a nut shell, is the biggest issue with America and Guns.  Those who see the issue, see the problem and want to make changes are willing to talk about it; are willing to discuss the subject; are willing to compromise to some degree; are willing to listen to the others point of view even when they do not understand it.  But those who are supporters of gun carrying just “don't need to hear it”.  They don’t want to hear what might happen.  They don’t want to hear that maybe next week it will be their baby that they posted pictures of that is killed in the street by a kid with a gun.  They don’t want to hear that maybe in ten or fifteen years, their kid is the one with their face all over the news for having taken the guns from their parents closet gun safe, and shot random people in a mall or a theatre, or shot up a lunch room full of kids at their high school, or walked to the elementary school down the street and taken the lives of a class of innocents because he believed the world was collapsing and he was saving them.

They don’t want to hear it…. Because it might just be true….. Because they might just be wrong….

 

Tuesday, 25 September 2012

The to-do with To Do lists....

So, I suddenly had a thought today, "I wonder how long I have left to complete that To Do list I posted on her, way back when.  Seems the deadline passed 2 weeks ago, so lets see how I did shall we? (cough, not that well!!)
 
First off, there were 55 things, rather than 50.  And its been 516 days...
 
That should average out at one thing off the list every 9.38 days (thank you trusty calculator!)
 
The list is reposted below and frankly is a sad testament to the ways 'life' gets in the way of, well, 'life'!
 
Red = not done
Orange = started and abandoned half way for no reason other than I am a lazy arse, frantically busy working mom of 2....
Green = done
 
 
By my calculations, they add up to the following
 
Red = 27 (49%)
Orange = 15 (27%)
Green = 13 (24%)
 
So I did only a quarter of things on the list, but I did get another quarter underway.  Half have gone untouched and I notice that most of them are to do with eating habits and fitness (old habits die hard I suppose).
 
Most of the items related to the kids though, are either started or done, as are many of the things around the home.
 
So, I suppose this highlights that I spend more time and energy on my family, kids and home, and less time on me and my health.  Good in some ways. bad in others.
 
So lets see.... it's September 25 today, my 8th wedding anniversary tomorrow, so lets have the anniversary as the new start date and New Years Eve as the end date.  Gives me 97 days to see how many more I can either get underway or completed.
 
Here's hoping....
 
 
 
50 Things to Do in 500 Days
Start: April 27th, 2011
Finish: September 7th, 2012

Projects

1. Paint Dining Table and Chairs
2. Sew and repair all items in the sewing basket that have now been waiting over a year!

3. Paint Playroom with Mural
4. Scan old photos and put some on Facebook
5. Put all photos into new albums and only keep the good ones!
6. Finish embroidery on Sparks bag for Freyja
7. Make personalised crossstitch item for both girls in time for Christmas 2011 FAIL!!!!


Kids

8. Finish Baby Book for Freyja (now 6 years old)
9. Get Baby Book up to date for Rosie
10. Create Family Tree for kids
11. Finish 1st Year Photos for Rosie
12. Make a Fairy house for the girls in the garden
13. Spend a Mom day with Freyja getting hair done / Nails done without baby coming too.
14. Volunteer for a day (maybe Thanksgiving) with Freyja to teach her how fortunate she is.

Health & Fitness

15. Get weight down below 170 lbs (Was over 200 when I went in to have Rosie)
16. Run a 5K - Signed up for May 8th!
17. Run a 10K - August or November depending on how long it takes to get fitness level up.18. Incorporate fruit or vegetables into Lunch and Dinner every day for 2 weeks to get into the habit - hopefully then I'll keep doing it.
19. Don't eat chocolate or ice cream for a month (now this one will be hard!)
20. Get up to running 2 km instead of just walking and alternate running and walking up to 10km
21. Take a Belly Dancing or Pole Dancing class
Family

22. Go on a family vacation (at least twice/yr.)
23. Take a spontaneous weekend trip to somewhere close
24. Get family pictures taken
25. Go on a picnic.
26. Go on a nature trail with kids.

Personal

27. Write in Blog at least once a week.
28. Put together a photo collage for both sets of parents and my grandparents of me, DH and the girls
29. Write a letter to my Dad (He's been waiting a long time for this)
30. Write a short childrens story for the girls
31. Finish reading "Pride & Prejudice & Zombies"
32. Finish the Dragon crossstitch I started when I was 19 (I am now 35 and it will only take a few hours to finish)
33. Get dragon cross stitch framed and put up with pride of place.
34. Take a cooking or painting class.
35. Make a will and set up what would happen to kids in W.C.S.
36. Write a letter or make a video for kids for them to have of me if anything happened.

Finance

37. Save some money for a visit back to the UK next year.
38. Save to RESP's for girls (Now set up finally!)
39. Set up RRSP's for me and DH.

Home & Organization
40. Clean oven every 2 weeks so it doesn't get so horrible
41. Set up Chore Chart for me, DH and Freyja so everyone does something to keep on top of things
42. Organize Playroom
43. Organize Office Space and get rid of stuff that really is not needed
44. Organize closet and get rid of big clothes so I can't 'grow' back into them.
45. Go through memory boxes and condense them down before they take over the house.
46. Have a Garden Chore chart for the summer / fall
47. Plant seeds for flowers and veggies and grow garden with Freyja
48. Go through house and get rid of EVERYTHING we don't use - if you don't ever use it, you don't need it!

Food
49. Get a Box freezer for the basement
50. Create a 2 week meal planner and use it to shop and cook
51. Create a batch of freezer meals
52. Use herbs and veggies from our own garden and MAKE SURE THEY DON"T DIE!
53. Cut out as much processed food as possible
54. Retrain Freyja to eat without the use of Alphagetti, Chicken Nuggets or Ketchup (again this one may prove impossible)
55. Cook a new recipe each week from one of the many cook books we have.

Friday, 20 July 2012

It's been how long!!

Ok, it would seem I have been getting a little lax in my posting. In my defence, I have been taking this day by day with what has been happening with Freyja, and really that, in many ways, defines my life right now.

We have our diagnosis of ADHD, and each day we work around how she is behaving (or not) and figure out how best to do things.

We are still doing the usual stuff, and we have had some lovely (busy) days lately.

Freyja turned 7 years old in April and had a beach party. It was an indoor beach party, in our house, as her birthday is at the beginning of April, and usually that means snow in Calgary, though this year, it was actually quite sunny until the afternoon, with no snow on the ground.

I gave them a bit more free range this year, but maybe I should have kept it more structured, as I think they were wondering what to do for a bit. They had a kids inflatable pool filled with balls instead of water, played a game of marco polo round the living room, and invented their own version of beach volley ball with the beach ball, and later balloons. I got them all a craft to do, a suncatcher which they each painted, though half of them forgot it and I still have them at home, and of course there were the presents and cake.

I have some pictures, but as the girls were all dressed in swimsuits and bikinis, I won't be posting them on here, but there are some pictures of the food and the cake I made!



Not a bad cake considering that the morning of her party she changed her mind about how she wanted it decorated!

May brought us Rosie's second birthday, just a few family friends, but a lovely day nonetheless. It's amazing to see how much she has grown and what a little individual she is already. Freyja was a fab big sister and helped her open up all the presents, then handed out cake to everyone. It's great to see her developing as a big sister.



June was a month of many changes. School ended and summer began. It was also the end of Sparks and the end of routine. Freyja got a fantastic report, which was a boost for all of us. It's been a busy few months, and a hard few months but we are beginning to find our way now, at least I hope so.

I go into more detail about the day to day struggles in my other blog, but the short version is that in April and May we tried a medication and the side effects were awful. It was, bluntly, two months of Hell. We were all at breaking point. We decided to stop it, had two weeks meds free and realized that wasn't working either, so we started on new meds. Three weeks in and things are going pretty good. There are good days and not so good, but none of the extreme stuff. The late nights and lack of structure that summer brings probably doesn't help, but who doesn't struggle to get their 7 year old to bed when the nights are light and the neighborhood kids are still out playing.

For now we will take it day by day and look forward to our vacation and the new school year ahead and all it brings.

Friday, 2 March 2012

Wedding memories

So, I am member of a Moms forum online, based here in Calgary (www.calgarymomscommunity.com if anyone wants to check it out) and someone asked the question today about weddings. What do you remember, where, when, who etc, the good and the bad, and frankly I just remember too much for a teensy little forum post, so decided I would post here. It will serve as a reminder to me and as a story for my kids.

Lee and I got married in Langley Castle back in England. It was a medieval border fort so really consists of only a couple of 'rooms' on each of three floors. Our wedding was in the room on the first floor, our wedding night suite was on the second floor, and the reception room was on the top floor.

The wedding was done to a medieval theme to match the location, dress was flowy, medieval type design with long draped sleeves etc. My mother also wore a similar style dress but in a tie dyed purple velvet. We had medieval music at the ceremony and in the background at the reception.
Despite being such a formal venue, and having 70 people there, it was so laid back and relaxed.

The night before my parents and grandparents, my maid of honour and I stayed at a nearby B&B.

Memorable moments (Imagine Mr Bean gets married at Fawlty Towers and you may have something akin to the catalogue of disasters that was our wedding):
  • My wedding fell on the same weekend as the annual half marathon in our region so by the time my bridesmaid and I made it out to the countryside in the traffic it was dark.  When we got to the area where the B&B was we got lost. By the time we got there, dinner had finished so all we could have was a grilled cheese sandwich. Get our room to find out that it is not a twin after all and me and my bridesmaid have to share a bed! Not really conducive to a restful night. I felt like I was 8 again and spent the night giggling and reminiscing.
  • Morning of the wedding got up to find the breakfast room full of runners and their supporters so had to wait an hour to be seated. Just got my breakfast on the table when my hairdresser turned up so she started on my mother and grandmother first. Finally finished breakfast and rushed to get my hair done where my mother started to fluster. I love her dearly, but she gets stressed out and flustered at events, and my wedding was a BIG event for her so I think she started to fluster the minute she woke up!
  • Me driving to the castle in my car in the drivers seat with jeans, a shirt and a veil on as my hair was done, but the tiara kept hitting the roof of my tiny car so my bridesmaid was changing gear for me while I was ducking and holding it in place - everyone shout CHANGE!!
  • Me getting annoyed at my mother while I was getting dressed at the castle because she was getting flustered and hot and her makeup was running so she took my makeup while I was getting ready, and then asked me to do her eyes for her - lovely photo taken at that point by the wedding photographer of my being fastened into my dress by my bridesmaid and me looking so grumpy.
  • My Dad takes my Mum and leaves me to finish getting ready. At this point she apparently walks past my very nervous groom, he says 'Hi Ann, hows it going?' - She replies "I don't know if there'll even be a wedding at this rate!" and walks away. Cue panicking groom who now thinks he's being stood up (she still denies to this day that she said it, however, I know my mother.... she said it without even realising - Lord, I love her)
  • Wedding time arrives and my dad walks me slowly down the stairs, waits at the door to the wedding room, smiles at me and squeezes my hand with tears in his eyes, the doors open... and I am jet propelled, warp speed down the aisle to my waiting groom with a speed that implies he couldn't wait to offload me - he was also very nervous!
  • The wedding passes in a haze of vows and stuff I can barely remember, and sadly, the video recorded by my brother in law does not help in this, as he stood in the worst possible place, where you can hear shuffling, whispering and coughing of the wedding guests, and pretty much nothing of me and Lee.
  • On to the photos - the photographer takes what seems like a million photos of me (have I mentioned I was 3 months pregnant, in a full length dress, on a September day that was pretty warm, and I had been experiencing dizzy fainting fits in the weeks running up to the wedding) so it felt like an eternity. Also I hadn't eaten for hours and really hadn't managed much breakfast due to nerves and wanting to rush for the hairdresser.
  • Speaking of food, it's time for the photos with the groom and best man. Where are they? Oh there they are, demolishing an entire tray of canapés. I'm a bit peckish myself, could I have some? Oh, I see, there's none left! Grrrrr!!
  • On to the wider family shots. Where is Lee's Uncle, Aunt and Cousin (plus one)? Anyone? No one remembers seeing them? Oh, so they didn't turn up then.... CRAP!!!! I have a seating plan with all four of them on one table with another couple - now that couple are going to be seated alone.... CRAP!!!!
  • Finish photos, smile at guests, shake hands, invite them to take a glass of champagne, excuse yourself from company, hitch up dress and leg it up 2 flights of uneven stone stairs to the function room at the top. Re-write part of seating plan, move name place markers and find staff to remove 4 chairs so it looks like it hasn't all been screwed up. Hitch up dress and leg it back down one floor to the suite so I can go to the bathroom (after all I am 3 months pregnant and it is nearly 2 hours since I had a chance to pee - though due to the lack of food and drink anyone (did not) think to get me, I am also not exactly hydrated. Hitch up dress and leg it back down one more flight of stairs to guests just in time to hear the call for everyone to go upstairs for the reception meal.  Use walking up stairs with my Grandad as the decoy for the fact I am too breathless to head up faster.
  • Everyone sits down to a lovely meal and quaffs champagne (except me, as I am 3 months pregnant and my sister in law who is about 6 months pregnant) especially the groom who is getting lightly toasted by my side. We giggle as we watch Lee's son Dan, then only a young lad of 12 push the barley in the broth up the side of the bowl and attempt to eat around it - he has no idea what it is, and therefore we are clearly trying to poison him!
  • The meal ends, everyone is full and happy, and mostly brimming with joy and alcohol. The speeches begin. The best man makes a lovely speech, which I can remember none of, but manages not to mention anything embarrassing or illegal about my new husband in front of my grandparents (huge sigh of relief!) Then my dad gets up. My Dads speech makes me cry. He tells a story I had never heard of when I was born. I was 6 weeks early, tiny and sick in an incubator and he and my Mum had been told I likely wouldn't make it. He said he put his hand in the incubator and my tiny hand gripped his little finger with incredible force and he knew I would make it. He said I was a fighter, determined and fierce, and that no one would guess that day what I had been through. I cried. Dad cried. I think everyone shed a tear. Sadly, I was so much of a mess after that, I didn't really hear Lee's speech, though he was so nervous it was very short and consisted mainly of thank yous to best man, bridesmaid, family etc. We cut the cake and that was pretty much that for the day time.
  • Downstairs a vintage Rolls Royce awaited Lee and I, and a coach tour bus waited for the guests. We all hopped in and made the half hour journey to the city of Newcastle where the night time event was held. The coach got there first, followed by me and a wobbly Lee in the car (there was a bottle of champagne in the car and he was drinking for two with me being pregnant).
  • Into the hotel lobby to be greeted by my flustered mother saying that one of our family friends had not been given the disabled room, so I apologise to my family and friends, send them through to the function room (which it turns out they are still setting up) and go to the reception desk to raise merry hell and get my guest's bedroom issue sorted.
  • Next stop, the function where people ate, drank, ate some more, drank some more, drank a little too much and the dancing began, mainly a highland fling performed by the 2 Scottish gentlemen who were guests (one Rangers supporter, and one Celtic and they both survived the evening with teeth intact and happy memories) and a Pub Quiz which was, in hindsight, probably best not run by the best man who was now inebriated and chuckling over each of the completely incomprehensible questions.
  • Lee and I at this point departed quietly and climbed into our limo back to the castle, in which there was another bottle of champagne. Hurrah!! Hubby drinks for 2 again until we arrive at the castle where we pour him out and I walk him upstairs.
  • We decide to take a bath, which is enormous and big enough for about 6 people, thankfully though there are just the 2 of us, I put a little bubble bath in and get in, lay back and relax, new hubby gets in, slips (on the bubble bath he says, nothing to do with the 4 bottles of champagne that have come his way that day, not to mention the beer) and whoosh, down like a sack of potatoes, water flying and me trying to drag him out from under the water before he drowns. Bath is abandoned and we adjourn to the wonderful, enormous and comfortable bed - maybe a bit too comfortable, as we were both asleep in minutes.
  • We wake up in the morning and start to pack up our things, though it is still very early, and dark. The room has the arrow slit windows that most functioning castles had, so the source of all indoor illumination is electric light. Lee goes into the bathroom, switches on the lights and bam! shorts the electrics in the whole castle. No light, nothing!!! Arrrggghhhh!
  • We dress in the dimly lit bedroom as dawn allows a teeny bit of sunlight into the room and head downstairs only to find there are no staff. By the time someone arrives, we have everything packed and in the car and are patiently awaiting breakfast and electric light, not necessarily in that order. Turns out the receptionist got a ride to work with the chef, who that morning happened to sleep in.
Funnily enough, while I remember every single one of those things that did not go according to plan, all my guests were amazed by what a good day it was. I was asked if I had used a wedding planner, told I should become one when they were told I did it myself. Told how wonderful it was and how they had never been to a wedding that went off without a hitch before.... Had we been at the same wedding???

And now, Lee and I find that all those things that 'went wrong' were actually what made the day so memorable and fun to remember. So while it did not quite follow the plan, I wouldn't change it in any way.... well, maybe we'd hire a professional for the video so we could remember the actual 'Wedding' part!!!

    Thursday, 1 March 2012

    My name is Lisa and it has been 3 months since my last confession...

    Well, pretty much three months and a blog and confession are so similar in my mind, cathartic ways of cleansing the mind and soul so you can continue on without necessarily forgetting, but without the excess baggage of guilt, worry, emotion dragging along with you daily.

    It has been a busy three months in our household.  Christmas came and went with a great deal of screaming, squealing and throwing of wrapping paper.  And that was just me and Lee....  The kids enjoyed it too!



    The new year rushed in where angels fear to tread (look at me mixing up my similies with nary a care! Or should that be metaphor?  Maybe a mixed one?)  New Years day was my beloved husband's 40th Birthday!!! We celebrated with a family dinner and a cake that looked like Boba Fett's helmet (and if I do say so myself, I didn't do too bad a job on it!)



    Well anyway, we got into January and headed through it far to fast for my liking, though with not much snow, which in Calgary in winter is a blessing (though a curse for the farmers when spring and summer roll around).  Bizarely its been snowing up a storm in the UK and the rest of Europe with temperatures plummeting, while I have been waltzing around in a shirt and light jacket.  Mother Nature is having a bit of a lark this year I think.

    February brought Valentine's day, hearts wherever you looked, which was a bit of an omen as it turned out as Lee got taken into hospital from work one day with a suspected Heart Attack. Yes, my only recently turned 40 valentine was given aspirin, nitro-spray and a referral to a cardiologist.  Happy Valentines!!

    He had the cardiologist appointment yesterday.  Thankfully (after 2 weeks of near endless panicking and little sleep on my part - oh how much better he coped than me) he was given the all clear.  Heart good, Blood pressure good, cholesterol and blood sugar amazingly good.  But - told to stop smoking (again) and lose weight.  Apparently the tablets he takes for stress may be acting less effectively, hence allowing him to feel like he is having a heart attack when he is under stress.

    Which brings us to the most recent thing.  Our eldest daughter, the fabulous tornado in a tutu, Freyja is having more and more issues with behaviour and anger, so I finally admitted that we were not coping so well by ourselves and we needed help - especially in light of Lee's stress issues.  I duly made an appointment with our family doctor to explain my concerns, her anger, her nightmares, her ADHD like tendencies and he refered us to the relevant department who in turn referred us to the Paediatric Behavioural Development Clininc yesterday telling us it would be a 10 week or so wait to hear.  Today I got a call from them and appointment on Monday (today is Thursday).  They actually wanted to give us an appointment tomorrow but our work couldn't do such short notice!  I don't know whether to be pleased or worried - do they think its so bad they need to rush her in?

    So anyway, to keep my mind clear on that score, I have started another blog http://the-defiant-ones.blogspot.com/ to remind us where our journey began and find out where it takes us, and for Freyja to hopefully look back on it with pride in the future at what she overcame, and for us as parents to perhaps look back, make a sigh of relief and take pride in what we survived....

    And last, but hopefully not least, in my ongoing effort to get fitter, lose weight and support Lee in his efforts to do so too, I have joined a gym and will be starting a blog on that too to track my progress and inspire me to keep going.  Happy March 1st - hopefully the beginning of good things to come - even if it is a bit overwhelming at the moment!

    Thursday, 8 December 2011

    May you live in interesting times....





    Interesting Times by (Sir)Terry Pratchett

    Extract from the beginning of the book.... (if you like it, you can follow the link to a website I found where the whole darn thing is there for free, along with all his other books in the Discworld Series - oh, and by the way, I am actually going to blog, this is just a bit of a scene setter for my rambles.  Whether the scene is even in the same vicinity as my ramblings is for you to decide!)

    There is a curse.
    They say: May You Live in Interesting Times

    This is where the gods play games with the lives of men, on a board which is at one and the same time a simple playing area and the whole world.
    And Fate always wins.

    Fate always wins. Most of the gods throw dice but Fate plays chess, and you don't find out until too late that he's been using two queens all along.

    Fate wins. At least, so it is claimed. Whatever happens, they say afterwards, it must have been Fate.

    Gods can take any form, but the one aspect of themselves they cannot change is their eyes, which show their nature. The eyes of Fate are hardly eyes at all - just dark holes into an infinity speckled with what may be stars or, there again, may be other things.  He blinked them, smiled at his fellow players in the smug way winners do just before they become winners, and said:

    'I accuse the High Priest of the Green Robe in the library with the double-handed axe.'  And he won.

    He beamed at them.

    'No-one likesh a poor winner,' grumbled Offler the Crocodile God, through his fangs.

    'It seems that I am favouring myself today,' said Fate. 'Anyone fancy something else?'

    The gods shrugged.

    'Mad Kings?' said Fate pleasantly. 'Star-Crossed Lovers?'

    'I think we've lost the rules for that one,' said Blind Io, chief of the gods.

    'Or Tempest-Wrecked Mariners?'

    'You always win,' said Io.

    'Floods and Droughts?' said Fate. 'That's an easy one.'

    A shadow fell across the gaming table. The gods looked up.

    'Ah,' said Fate.

    'Let a game begin,' said the Lady.

    There was always an argument about whether the newcomer was a goddess at all. Certainly no-one ever got anywhere by worshipping her, and she tended to turn up only where she was least expected, such as now. And people who trusted in her seldom survived. Any temples built to her would surely be struck by lightning. Better to juggle axes on a tightrope than say her name. Just call her the waitress in the Last Chance saloon.

    She was generally referred to as the Lady, and her eyes were green; not as the eyes of humans are green, but emerald green from edge to edge. It was said to be her favourite colour.

    'Ah,' said Fate again. 'And what game will it be?'

    She sat down opposite him. The watching gods looked sidelong at one another. This looked interesting. These two were ancient enemies.

    'How about. . .' she paused,'. . . Mighty Empires?'

    'Oh, I hate that one,' said Offler, breaking the sudden silence.  'Everyone dief at the end.'
    'Yes,' said Fate, 'I believe they do.' He nodded at the Lady, and in much the same voice as professional gamblers say 'Aces high?' said, 'The Fall of Great Houses? Destinies of Nations Hanging by a Thread?'

    'Certainly,' she said.


    ..... Terry Pratchett is without doubt my favourite author of modern times.  As a teenager, I lost myself in fantasy fiction of all kinds written by people such as David Eddings, Anne McCaffrey, Piers Anthony etc, and I loved them all, but then I grew up... and then I discovered Pratchett.  I found him in University and it has resulted in a cerebral love affair with him and his Discworld books for 15 years or so.  I was a history buff, I studied history, but I read history books 'for fun', I watched documentaries about the Roman and Greek empires to kick back and relax, enormous tomes of Ancient world mythology were my bedtime stories from the time I was ten....  then here was Pratchett.  His books took history, politics, mythology, old world fairie-tales and wove them in with a sarcasm and dry humour that I could not help but marvel at.    It became a game to spot the references to historical figures (Leonard of Quirm being an obvious reference to Leonardo da Vinci, Lord Vetinari being a not so obvious reference to the Medici of Italy- Its in the name ....you'll figure it out)

    One of his books is called 'Interesting Times' and is based on the so called ancient Chinese Curse "May you live in interesting times".  I find we are living in very interesting times, and I wonder who it was that cursed us to it.  Maybe Fate and Lady Luck are playing games, just like in the book....

    Sir Terry (the Queen wisely decided to give him a knighthood) is a remarkable man from a very unremarkable background.  He grew up in the UK, is the most prolific and most sold writer of modern times, despite his inevitable millions, he is still living in the UK and did not decide to escape like some of us, is friends with Tony Robinson (Baldrick from Blackadder) who narrates many of his books on audio book collections, and is a sufferer of Early Onset Alzheimer's.

    Here is a man who has built a career from being able to store and recall pieces of seemingly useless information, like what a Boggart is, and weave them into a story to make millions of people smile, is slowly having his memory taken away from him at when he is still in the prime of life....  That's Fate having a laugh right there....

    So, while we live in interesting times on a national level, there are always the individuals suffering as well, and most do it in silence.  Pratchett, did not and does not suffer in silence.  He speaks out about his disease and its consequences, and he is also bringing the subject of assisted suicide to the table while he's at it.  He wants to be able to chose to die before every part of him is sucked away by this, and frankly I can't say I blame him.

    (OK time to get to the point of my ramble...) Lots of people hide things like this, from fear, from embarrassment, but the more people talk about things the more people can sort out their problems, whatever they may be.

    I have 2 little 'issues' of my own.  Firstly, I suffer off and on from Depression.  Secondly, a week before my second daughter was born, I filed for bankruptcy.

    I know other people who have been through both these things, one quite often inspires the other!  The main difference is that most of them have been embarrassed, fearful of what other people would think.  Depression can bring on financial woes, financial woes can bring on depression.  And guess what.... there isn't an App for that!  Mr Jobs may be working on one right now from the other side of the pearly gates, but right as of this moment there is no easy fix, you can't press a button and take it away.

    My husband and I used to work for the same place.  Another couple we knew did too.  One day we got told it was shutting down.  We were lucky, we got new jobs, less wage but jobs nonetheless.  We rented our home.  We managed.

    Our friends didn't get new jobs for a few months.  They owned their home....or rather the bank did.  Because they missed payments, the bank hiked up their payments to nearly $3000 a month once they were working again.  Their truck was repossessed in the middle of the night.  My friend contemplated suicide but could not do that to her husband and daughter because she had no life insurance and they would have had to pay funeral costs.  She spiralled into depression and her marriage nearly broke up.  They told no one except their family and us...

    When we found we were going to have another child, we contacted the credit card people, the banks etc and told them I would be going on mat leave and could not afford to pay for a while.  They would not listen.  We asked to work something out, they would not listen.  So we claimed bankruptcy and they had no choice but to listen.  Unlike our friends, when we found we were in the same situation, I told anyone that wanted to know how things were.  I was open with my friends and I found out more than one had been through bankruptcy in the past, but had kept it quiet.  There is so much shame attached, but in an economy like the one we have today, really, it is nothing to be ashamed of.  Banks take you for everything they can while you are on the up, but as soon as you are down they don't want to know.

    It was the best thing we ever did.  18 months later, we are coming to the end of the 21 month period, and we have not paid the full amount, we will likely be paying something every month for another year to fully clear it, but the point is, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  There is always a way, and you can get through, you just have to breathe deeply and be honest, with your self and with others.  Shit happens!  and it happens to good people.  We struggled for 3 years on hardly anything when we moved to Canada.  We went without meals to feed our child.  I wore boots with holes in for a full winter, arrived at work with soaking wet feet in minus 40 degrees to make sure she was warmly clothed.  We tried.... but sometimes something just has to give.  We live in interesting times and sometimes it can be a curse, but it can be a blessing too...  We became a closer family because of it.  We became less materialistic....  We came to understand what was important, what wasn't, when to fight, and when to admit defeat and ask for help.

    With depression you can get a pill to help you feel better, but with financial worries you have to ask for help.... not to borrow money, but real help in sorting it out.  In a year, we will be done. We will have a terrible credit rating for a few years, but we will have no more debt.  We will have spare cash to pay for new clothes, dance and guitar lessons for our kids, pizza night, date night, maybe even a holiday.  These are things so many people take for granted, but really, most of us are only 2 pay cheques away from disaster.

    Our friends lost their home in the end.....  but from bad things come good.  They moved back to their hometown on the other side of Canada, they are close to their family again, they are done their bankruptcy and both have stable jobs.... they have pizza night and the occasional vacation.... they are happy.... they had their interesting times and now they know what is important again....

    So my message after all this.  Embrace adversity.  Revel in the Interesting Times in which we live.  For every time of hardship we enter there is a time of peace as we leave it.  Every rain storm finishes with a rainbow.  The bigger the storm, the more vibrant the rainbow is.  As Christmas approaches, don't worry about what you don't have, treasure what you do, and most of all, be true and allow others into you life so they can help you and you can help them....