one of those days

It's been one of those days...

....where it's been raining and chilly all day.
....you feel bloated and larger than usual.
....you actually feel like baking (which doesn't sit well with point #2)
....and you feel like nothing more than a bump on a log.

Sigh.

It's just been one of those days...

what?

Yesterday a friend had a link to this website (a holy experience) and I was browsing around it for a bit when I came across this entry. And as I'm reading it, instead of feeling uplifted and optimistic, I feel like the worlds worst Mom. Really? Is all that even possible? Are you saying I shouldn't raise my voice? Who does that? Or doesn't do that as the case may be. When your 4 kids are screaming hysterically, chasing each other, wrestling and pulling hair...I'm supposed to hug them? Somehow I just don't think that's the answer. And while I'd like to be that Mom, that super cool Mom whose kids flock to her with adoration, and there's never any screaming or pushing, somedays I just don't think that's possible.

Do you?

The Story of Us

10 years ago I don't remember much, but I'm sure I was getting ready to marry the man of my dreams. Actually in all likelihood, I was sitting at my Mom's kitchen wrapping little blue ribbons around the ceremony programs and bagging Hershey kisses in blue cellophane with my sister and my bestie.

It had been a crazy 5 months since the day we met back in February at a singles potluck at his house. I remember it like it was yesterday. I walked in to this little shack, and there was a woman getting something out of the oven. I asked where Steve was, knowing that it was his house, and she replied, "in the shower". I thought, what kind of guy is he? But then out he came and I loved the way his hair curled up from under his Rider hat instantly. He looked rugged. I like rugged.

That night he opened up and said more about himself than I had to anyone in over a year. I liked his openness. I loved the relationship he had with God. I liked his Landcruiser.

I couldn't stop thinking about him. I'd drive by his house and offer to walk his dog. We'd talk on the phone (I hate talking on the phone). We'd play endless games of Rummy while listening to our favourite band (which we just happened to have in common - Third Day!) We'd go for hikes, where he'd easily traverse logs suspended across rivers, while I blankly stared after him...for numerous reasons.

Those first few weeks of hanging out, I had never felt so content in my life.

Then comes March, and we're sitting on the side of a hill having a weiner roast and I honestly forget who asked who, but it was basically a question of: so you wanna get married?

His best friend came up to interview me and make sure I was "safe". We met each other's parents in April and away we went, planning a simple, cozy and warm wedding surrounded by our closest friends and family.

I'll admit that first year was really rough. Meeting and getting married in 5 months is not for everyone. But somehow, with God's help, we've managed to get thru the last 10 years wearing flying colours. And I love him way more today then I did back then. To quote the corny line from Jerry McGuire, he completes me. And I couldn't imagine anyone else I'd rather spend the rest of my life with.

So here's to the last 10 years, and many more to come!

I love you babe. Happy 10th Anniversary.

far away, yet too close

Sometimes I wonder if we had been posted further away, would we still feel the pressure to always go back and visit family and friends? And why do we always do the visiting?

A few months ago when the weather was still really bad, I was planning a trip back to Sk to visit family. The day before I remember it snowing and phoning my folks and saying, 'ya know...I just don't know if we should still come?' To which I remember my Mother saying something like, 'you can do it. Just take your time.' And then I think back to around Christmas when they were all s'posed to come here and the weather was bad again, and she was ready to call the whole trip off. What? 3 adults in a vehicle and you're ready to call the trip off, but when it's me, JUST ME, and my 4 kids, I'm s'posed to just drive slow!?! Does that even make sense?

Fast forward now to the present and we're planning our summer holidays. Who knew they could be so stressful. Everyone wants a piece of us, or I should say Steve (apparently his family thinks I'm a bee-atch) and so we're looking at 4 or more trips back to Sk. And with gas prices as high as they are, each one of those trips will avg $200. That's not even including doing stuff while we're there!

But what infuriates me (and this bugged me when we lived 1.5 hrs and 4 hrs away) is that no-one will come visit us b'cos there's "nothing here". Excuse me? WE ARE HERE! Is it not good enough that we are here? Must there be something else to see and do?

So at this point, Steve and I are both getting headaches whenever we even think of summer. Which I'm pretty sure is NOT s'posed to happen. And we just want to stay home. Which at this point, sounds like a pretty good idea.

The Invitation

Many years ago I did a program called Katimavik, which I'd highly recommend and if they had something similiar for families or something, I'd gladly do it again. During my stint in BC, my program leader read this poem. I immediately loved it and when I got home, I found a copy and posted it on my wall. It goes like this....

It doesn't interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn't interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
everyday.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon
"Yes."

It doesn't interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

-Oriah Mountain Dreamer

The Desiderata

The other day I did a little organizing, and when I say little I mean little. I think I re-organized 1 shelf.

Anyway, I came across an old notebook full of poems and quotes that had caught my fancy many years ago. One of them was The Desiderata. And so here it is, for your reading pleasure.

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexatious to the spirt.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter;
for always there will be great and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Ekeep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the work is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyone a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not is is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

maybe it's just me

Wednesday nights is our Scout Cub night. So from 7-8:30 Matt takes part in the Cub Scouts. In the past we've been carpooling with one of Matt's buddies. Which is cool. I have no problem with that. It helps me out when Steve is working, and if her hubby is gone, it helps her out. So tonite, she phones and asks if Matt's going. I say , yeah, Steve is actually helping out so he can drive N both ways." "Cool" she says 'cos she's totally not feeling well. Fine and dandy. Then about 8:40 pm, I get a phone call, that I can hardly understand, and it's only AFTER I hang up that I think...wait...did she just say they weren't home yet? WHAT?! Is it just me, but when my kids are expected home I'm home to receive them! Especially if someone else is driving them home! Are you kidding me? 9:10 I hear a knock on my door and it's N's mom asking if he's here. I say, no. So she goes back to her house. 5 mins later Steve arrives home and says that he just made it to her house as she was pulling in the drive way. "Luckily" he was stopped by not one, but two trains on the way home from Cubs.

So I guess he wasn't any later than he would have been normally, but still. My problem is with the idea as a whole.

I don't know. Maybe it's just me.