1. in the hot tub with his grandfather he says: "grandpa you have boobs. huge ones!"

2. "know what my two favourite parts of my body are? my blood and veins because blue and red are my favourite colours."

3. "mommy i love you like ONE THOUSAND DOLLARS."

4. "mommy you are a poohead."

5. "i want a new bike and my birthday isn't for like A THOUSAND YEARS."

1. taking my kids for a night in a fancy hotel in victoria.

2. that moment when you get out of your chair and realize that counseling is over for this week.

3. snow drops blossoming all over the yard.

4. having short hair because i get to have cuts and colours every six weeks, constant change.

5. stubbornly refusing to try the alligator at work, giving in and then having your fears confirmed as you spit it back out and give the chef an "i told you so" look.

I have been pondering this small town life. When i wrote about a local man passing away i had no idea how close that death would circle in on my life. It turns out that he was a childhood friend of a co-worker. He was a friend to many. For a few days everywhere i went people were talking about it, memorial notices posted in coffee shop windows, clerks at the beer & wine store in tears. His memorial service had hundreds of people. He was respected, he was liked.

We pondered aloud at work last night how many people would come to our memorials? How strong are our tendrils in this community?

I know that for me living in a small community has many advantages. Mainly that my kids can live in a place that protects them from growing up too soon. We are not hundreds of miles away from civilization, we are a thirty minute drive from a reasonably large urban center. They will have plenty of opportunities to find mischief. For now, they are content to be kids for a bit longer than children their age in large cities would.

Living in a small town also has it's drawbacks. People know you. They know where you work. They make assumptions. They love to gossip. Last year when my marriage fell apart i felt the fissure as the community split. Sides taken. Secrets told. Assumptions made.

I've had a tough few weeks. Having four kids is once again stretching me to my limits. Trying to take care of all their needs and desires while fitting myself in there somewhere seems a task too difficult to even attempt. I, as most mothers, place my needs last the majority of the time. As such i often burn the candle at both ends and come crashing down in exhaustion every few months. This has been one of those months.

I have a few minor health concerns that are resulting in a multitude of visits to doctors and labs. Nothing major, but serving to make me aware of my own mortality. All the ways i could be treating myself better. Of course, being a worrier or storyteller, i keep imagining the worst and then kicking myself because, my god, there are so many people that are dealing with illness and struggle that i couldn't even imagine.

Trying to find grace in small things right? Although that whole exercise seems too cotton candy pink, sometimes i need to focus on the small things so that the big things don't drive me crazy.

My thoughts are a random jumble.

I had the strangest dream last night that i was out on a date with Anthony Bourdain and i was terrified the whole time that i was going to have to eat some gelatinous, half-cooked, fatty, fleshy thing that i couldn't wrap my head around actually hanging out with him. The whole dream was me avoiding any place that looked like it might sell food, so much so that i woke up pissed off at myself that i missed an opportunity.

Valentine's weekend went by without remark. Well, there was that couple on sunday night that sat with their bodies angled away from each other and at the end of the meal she looked purposefully away while he sat with his face in his hands.

Eliza has had lice twice in the past few weeks. I think i have lice by proxy given all the head scratching going on.

I got the results of Toby's psycho-educational assessment last week and, as i expected, he scored in the gifted range for the majority of topic areas. Except for reading and writing which he scored exceptionally low. He has an official learning disability diagnosis which will allow him to receive the extra help he has so desperately needed for years. If i can get him through school without too much trauma i am sure he is destined for great things.

My lovely friend Kelly has continued to amaze me with her strength of character and ability to speak out and speak up on issues of race and equality.

Another good friend is in the finals of a contest to win a trip to BlogHer. Do me a favour and go vote for her.

I'm sorry for my random thoughts. Life has been awkward and tiring. My heart won't let my fingers find the right words to say everything i need to say. I am just letting it wait. Letting the skipping beats slow down.

Wherever you are in love, I want to be that whisper, that antidote to the Am I doing it right? Did I blow it? Will it ever happen for me? and say, Where you are is good. Start here. It's imperfect and it always will be. It will be fierce and ordinary and torn and mended again. We will circle back and start once more. The goal is not some happily ever after, but a happily ever now. from Andrea at Superhero

And so here we are, a silly holiday that's sole purpose is to make a lot of us feel like crap. Single or not, happy or not, most of us will be disappointed today.

You will wake up in the morning and your expectations for a gift, a gesture, something that you had set your heart on receiving, will not be what you wanted. You will be disappointed.

Tonight when i come to your table i will try my very best to make it the perfect dinner you hope for, but i can't fix all the hurt you have felt, bring back those perfect moments, ensure that everything goes right. Perhaps your martini will not taste exactly like your memory holds it from that time, that perfect night you remember so well in your memory of taste.

It's all expectation. Perhaps, if we learn to expect less, hope for more. Be content with what we have. Learn to love ourselves. Perhaps, we can accept that love is not always a great thing, not always worthy of a celebration. Love is hard. It tears us open, lays our heart on the floor, pins it up on the wall for darts to strike it. We are lucky to find love in all it's complication in our lives. Ebbing and flowing, reminding us that we are flawed and alive.

So, i'm feeling much better. No more medicine for me. The side-effects were unbearable and, quite possibly, making me completely insane. I had to remove myself from the computer because i was turning into a crazy ranting lady and, really, who wants to witness that?

Life, as it is want to be, has been completely crazy. Just staying two paces behind myself is a challenge.

This weekend is looking to be a doozy. Every seat in the restaurant is booked from now through sunday night. A good thing. But, not an easy thing. I am predicting "excellence" to be replaced by "survival" sometime this evening.

And then, at the end of the night, long after the last customer has left, the dining room set, the dishes washed, we will sit around and go over all the details of the evening and laugh at the mistakes and clink our glasses in preparation for the next day.

*** BONUS! Brand new Bon Iver song.

Okay, so there's this DJ on the radio who has a blog. I have a crush on his whole family (even though he NEVER plays my requests) because they are young and happy and in love and exactly where i was ten years ago. They make me wish i appreciated what i had when i did. Jeremy did this meme on his blog last week and i'm going to do it too, though i think his is much better because *he* wrote it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Let’s see how much you remember!

1. Was your first pregnancy planned? Sort of. I knew that i wanted babies and it just sort of happened. That whole pull out method doesn't really work, you know?

2. Were you married at the time? Yes, 18 months.

3. What were your reactions? Freaked out and happy and thinking i had to quit smoking.

4. Was abortion an option for you? Not the first time around, but by the fourth... we talked about it.

5. How old were you? 26

6. How did you find out you were pregnant? i peed on a stick, twelve times, then just to make sure did it again at the doctors office.

7. Who did you tell first? Shane. I don't remember who i told next, but i do remember shane flying to vancouver to let his family know, i think they have forgiven me for THAT mistake.

8. Did you want to find out the sex? I did, but i didn't. I wanted to buy stuff, but was paralyzed by not knowing. So ended up bringing a baby home to almost nothing.

9. Due date? June 13, 1997

10. Did you have morning sickness? No, just nausea and then diabetes and four months of insulin.

11. What did you crave? Burritos from Taco Time.

12. Who/what irritated you the most? I was working at the newspaper at UVic at the time and everybody i knew in the SUB was all like "how much weight is she going to gain?" I think i scared most of the university kids with my baby rack and belly.

13. What was your first child's sex? Girl

14. Did you wish you had the opposite sex of what you were getting? Nope, for sure wanted a girl first so that, at least, something was familiar.

15. How many pounds did you gain throughout the pregnancy? Tons! 80 pounds.

16. Did you have a baby shower? An awkward one full of indie rockers.

17. Was it a surprise or did you know? I knew.

18. Did you have any complications during your pregnancy? Gestational diabetes, group B strep, forceps delivery.

20. How many hours were you in labor? Waaaay too many. 47 hours.

21. Who drove to the hospital? Shane. We stopped on the way to get a chocolate milkshake because i knew the diabetes would soon be gone.

22. Who watched you give birth? Lots of doctors and nurses all yelling "push jess, push!!!" It was a little dramatic at the end and we needed that baby out of there.

23. Was it natural or c-section? Natural.

24. Did you take medicine to ease the pain? Everything i could get.

27. How much did your child weigh? 7lbs 6oz.

28. When was your child actually born? June 7, 1997 at 1:06 am.

30. What did you name her? Tristan Thea

31. How old is your firstborn today? 11 1/2

Every morning after i drop the kids at school i stop at the little community grocery and buy a large tea, loaded with sugar and milk. My stomach has refused the coffee i used to love and has switched me to the gentler buzz of earl grey.

This morning as i pulled in there was a large group of a dozen or so men loitering outside, coffee cups in hand and smokes dangling from a few mouths. Their mood was melancholy, but one of camaraderie. Friendship. I walked through the crowd feeling a little self-conscious among so many men. As i paid i made a comment about the group, that it was like a men's club meeting. She told me it wasn't a happy thing. That a man had died last night on the icy highway. He was one of them. A contractor, a developer, a worker. Ralph. They were all in shock.

I glanced through the windows again. Noticing something different. They weren't actually chatting. Just standing around in small circles. Bewildered and dazed. Unsure of what to say. Somehow they had all converged on the little store. The store where, in this small town, we all stop on our way, to or from, here or there.

Each wandering through as our lives fill with struggle and success, joy and sorrow. We know the faces of the people we pass. We know his brother, his son, his cousin. This is life in a small town.

Having had a four year reprieve from any major allergic reactions in Eliza it was a frightening weekend of emergency room visits and hives the size of baseballs all over her body. When i picked her up from school on friday her torso was covered in angry welts. We had no idea then what she ate that caused the reaction and four days later we still have no idea. She is on a high dose of prednisone that is slowly working, though she continues to break out in new hives.

1. benadryl.
2. caring teachers that keep a very close eye on my daughter.
3. family doctors that bump us to the head of the line on our third visit to emergency.
4. getting to spend large amounts of time with my beautiful, youngest daughter who's calmness amazes me.
5. coming home from the hospital to find three goats grazing in the yard.

1. getting called in to work a charity poker tournament that is sure to be lucrative.

2. doing grace in small things is not really writing, so technically still taking a break.

3. i am madly in love with drinking London Fogs.

4. looking in my moms eyes and knowing she sees what is happening without talking.

5. challenging my daughter to a read-a-thon and knowing she may very well win.

So anyways,

what i meant to say
in english
is that i am taking a little break

a week or so
maybe more
maybe less

I am in a funk. Feeling funky. And not in a look at my cute haircut kind of way. Life has been very difficult for a while now. Not helping is the stuck in the house in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do but take care of sick children claustrophobia. There is nature, of course, but nature is stuck in a six week old mountain of snow that is now an icy, slushy, dirty mess.

My life has become complicated and i loathe complicated. I like simple easy days. Days of camping with messy children. Days of sleeping in and lounging lakeside.

I am tired of working. I haven't taken any time off in 18 months.(Yes, I had a whirlwind four day trip to california last summer, but i didn't take any time off for that. Just worked extra on either side.) I am on a four day on, one day off, three day on schedule which makes me feel guilty about not being around enough with the kids. Balance is hard to find.

Balance. I have no time to myself. I am either working or parenting these days. It is exhausting.

In 2009 i wanted to find balance. More time to do things for myself. But, there are only so many hours in a day and i am already running on a tortuous schedule that leaves little time for sleep as evidenced by the purple bruises under my eyes.

Blah. What to do. What to do.

For now? Right now i am going out to get an ice cream cone with parker.

1. toby getting perfect scores on his last four math tests.

2. all the kids waking me up in the morning in a giant dog pile.

3. gifts in the mail from lovely people.

4. every wall in the house decorated with parker's artwork.

5. only six more weeks of winter.

It struck me the other day that the list of things i'll never have again is getting longer. Not a great revelation, but it bothered me.

I will never wander around the park with a baby in a carrier rubbing and smelling their sweet head under mine.

I will never have the joy of toddler babble fill my house again.

I will never fall asleep in the rocking chair at 4 in the morning with a newborn in my lap.

The list is miles long.

This passing of time is such a slap. It sucks in so many ways because all those little moments of joy are gone forever and no matter how hard i sit and meditate on the memory, it is only a memory. A faint recall. The smell? I remember it was great, but i can't smell it again. The sound? It was intensely cute, heart filling. I don't remember it. I remember i loved it all. But, it's gone now.

Sure, there's still a ton of good stuff to come. Bring it on. I just miss the parts that have already been played.