Yesterday Eliza turned 8 years old. This is the fifth time i have written a birthday post for her in these pages. She has grown from the cutest red-haired toddler to an amazingly strong and independent second (almost third) grader.

How our lives have changed in these four years.

And she has changed. Gone from the little girl who cries every morning before school to the little girl that cries for different reasons and loudly voices her frustrations with the world and skips happily at other times.

Eliza is a complicated little girl who feels her emotions to the core. In many ways the separation of her parents has been hardest on her. She likes to be certain of what is happening, thrives on consistency. Needs to know the details of what is happening during her day. Every morning when i drop her at school she stops on her way to the school doors, turns around, and asks "mommy? will you see me at recess?" I try not to get frustrated with her need for clarification because her world has been anything but certain for a few years. "Yes eliza, i see you every recess."

"I know. Bye mommy. Love you."

I love you too eliza. My little mini me. Sometimes i feel guilty for passing on these genes to you. The worry and anxiety. But we will work through it together.

You amaze and thrill me. Make me proud. I am so excited to watch you grow. To have the great honour of your love.

In an effort to make my life a little more beautiful i have been creating a living environment that is full of things that make me happy. Things that feel good, things that smell good, things that look good, things that look good on me.

I was just outside snipping some lilacs from the hundreds of blossoms in my yard. Inside i gently arranged them in a vase and a glass. As i walked away i noticed my arms were covered in little black spots, closer inspection showed my arms covered in a bazillion little black bugs. Now i can't stop squirming and jumping in my own skin.

damn.

1. Parker telling me over a shared bowl of soup "when i grow up i'm going to get an axe and live with you forever and chop down trees."

2. Shopping at the Sally Ann with tristan and watching her come home and tear apart all the clothes and put them back together in funky style with her sewing machine.

3. Toby pushing me for two weeks straight to let him have a paintball party for his birthday.

4. Eliza spending her first hour of every day writing a letter to her fairy.

5. Being able to ignore drama and personal insult directed at or written about me.

It has been a bit of a rough week, a rough patch. It's bound to happen. Things have gone from friendly to courteous. I suppose it was imminent, but losing a friend is hard.

I find myself calling on strangers to help me solve dilemmas because i have no one to chat to. I sit in the evenings stressing about money and car purchases and what the hell do i do moments.

It's the little things we miss right?

It's the big things too. Not single parenting. That's the big one. The five days i have the kids are full of chaos and rushing and oh my god we're late again! The days are long when i work in the evenings and they are long for the kids too. School and homework and babysitters. They have the weekends to recharge, but not with me. I'm so anxious for summer to get here so that we can spend the days together. It's so close, but the four weeks to get there are daunting and large.

In september they will all be in school all day. No more back and forth and back and forth. My last four weeks with one of them home with me most of the day. Another milestone passing. There aren't many more. Graduations and boyfriends and girlfriends.

I am feeling a little melancholy. A little what the hell happened here? A little stressed. But, this too shall pass. It always does. It's just the getting to there part.

Today would be my fourteen year anniversary.

The biggest thing that i struggle with is that shane feels like our life together was useless. That he lost everything. That everything was pointless.

I have seen more live music in my time than the average person. The single, best, live show i have ever seen was Alejandro Escovedo. It was probably 1994. Right before i got married and right after i suffered through a debilitating depression. There were only a dozen or so people at the small venue in victoria, but it was amazing. At the end of the night Alejandro got off the stage and sat in the middle of the dance floor with his acoustic guitar and performed "Thirteen Years". A song about his wife of thirteen years who committed suicide. I have never forgotten that night and i think of that song often, though rarely listen because the magic of that evening is hard to reproduce.

And now i think of that song in a different way. I hope that one day it won't feel like a waste of time.

This past weekend i had an opportunity, a moment in time, to escape on a seaplane for twelve hours to attend a party that an old friend from highschool was hosting.

I know that everyone believes that certain places are the most beautiful in the world, but i can say without the hint of a doubt that british columbia on it's bright and golden days is one of the most amazing and breathtaking places in the world. As i flew across the pacific ocean and the plane turned low over a harbour on the sunshine coast i was struck with the beauty.

Those of you that know me know that this would also be the part of my adventure that i had that "what am i doing here" feeling and "how can i get home right now?" As i wandered across the dock i got a text message that said something like "there is no ride for you, go in to the pub and find two guys you went to highschool with and haven't seen for 20 years."

I paced around for a bit. Gathered up my strength and wandered around the seaside pub. I had no idea who i was looking for and my memory struggled to put faces to the names i was given. Eventually i found a table with two grown men, not highschool kids, who looked like the type of men who would have gone to my school. I wandered up and kind of squeaked "are you so and so and so and so?"

And it was. I sat. And we talked. And we had a few drinks. And suddenly it was like time and distance and all the life lived in between faded. We had this shared history and shared stories from youth that transcended nerves and fear. We laughed. We filled in the details of the past two decades. And i was comfortable, like i was with friends.

Eventually my host showed up to drive me to my destination. Someone else i hadn't seen for twenty years, but have shared some emails back and forth with. Someone i have followed through their travels and listened as they struggled with choices about futures and jobs and family. We drove along the winding roads. It was a calmer meeting, we already knew each others stories. He knew i was freaking out on a few levels. That what i needed most was some calm in my life. Some time and space.

I was surprised, am constantly surprised, how so many west coast towns look the same. Feel the same. Sleepy little places where people plant roots, where lives are lived and stories are made and told. Twenty minutes of country roads found us winding down an evergreen lined driveway to a beachfront cottage with a yard littered with tents and dogs and children and adults.

I made my introductions and headed down to the beach. I live on a lake, but the majesty of the ocean always thrills me. I sat as the sun set over the peaceful ocean. I felt proud and happy that i'd made the journey. Just sitting on that beach, feeling okay with myself, letting myself face some fears and do something unknown, just doing that made everything okay in my world.

We had an extended four day weekend, the second this month, that brought the usual mix of work and family.

The kids have been going back and forth between houses quite a bit which seems to be working well for them. It means less time with babysitters and more time with mom and dad. It's hard for me because, well, i miss them and i want them with me. I know that's just being greedy on my part and they are much happier with their dad than a babysitter - plus i save a bunch of money.

Today the kids and i went to see "earth" and then spent the rest of the afternoon talking about nature and "why couldn't the person running the camera show that baby elephant the right way to go?" I remember watching the Disney nature shows as a kid and thinking the exact same thing. I still kind of wonder why actually. I guess that's why my career as a nature photographer never panned out. I would be the idiot trying to feed that starving polar bear my sandwich and be pissed when he ate me instead.

Nature, animals, they are my weak spot and i am secretly thrilled to see my little Eliza growing the same sensitive heart. we sat side by side in tears through much of the movie.

1. knowing that the rain will make my garden grow.

2. homemade mother's day cards.

3. finally buying a new lens cap for my Canon and realizing how much stress it was causing me NOT having one.

4. my beautiful daughter falling asleep snuggled beside me in the middle of the day.

5. my other beautiful daughter laughing her butt off late at night as she tries to put her sleeping brothers hand in warm water and getting caught by me.

Whew. Made it through another mother's day. One thing i've come to terms with about myself is that i really don't like holidays. I'm not crafty, i don't like to entertain, i don't really like being around people, i don't like the stress of planning and i don't like attention drawn to me.

Every year, prior to this one, the kids have lovingly made me breakfast, woken me up with kisses and demanded that i eat "right now!" I don't like to eat first thing. I don't even like to eat second thing. I like to wake up, have coffee and ignore everyone for as long as possible. Or at least 15 minutes. I am not what one would call a morning person.

This year though i just told the kids "i don't want you to make me breakfast, i just want us to hang out together during the day." And, surprise, they were just fine with that.

And we did just that. Hang out. We went and browsed dollar stores and pet stores and they bought me lunch before i had to scurry off to work. It was a perfect day.

I have been thinking about time, the passing of years. I am half way through my life if my genes are any indication. My lifestyle, on the other hand, could put some variables in that equation.

Stress. I try to remain calm. I try to let things happen as they may, repeating over and over in my head "things always work out as they are supposed to." But stress gets the better of me often. Sometimes it's the mornings, getting the kids to school. It's actually more like forcing them to school. Pretty much every day i have one child who refuses to go and i have to physically shove them in the car and then drag them to class. Sometimes it's money. Handing over all my tips to the babysitter, realizing that i've come out even with a gas tank blinking on empty.

Sleep. I love the nights. I love staying up late when the house is silent except for the crackling of the fire. Aimlessly cruising around the internet, curled up in bed reading until i have to close one eye to still see the words. This late night lust leads to lack of sleep and morning struggles. I just can't break the habit. No matter how tired i am in the day i always perk up at night. I think my sleep debt after all the years of child-induced sleep deprivation and the following years of being a night owl is reaching epic proportions.

Food. Although i love food. I love the ritual of cooking for my family. I love dining out. Although i love all those things there are very few days that go by where i actually manage to eat properly, instead i focus my energy on feeding the kids and the customers.

I realize at this midway point in my life i need to take on a healthier attitude about my life, but in so many ways it suits me just fine.

That's Mia rolling in the dirt in the garden. We rescued her from the SPCA about a month or so ago. After a week of adjustment she fit in with our little family just fine. She was even filling her duty by killing mice for me on a daily basis. In an old house a mouser is a necessity.

On thursday night i came home from work to find her dead on the road. It was horrible and terrifying and, well, bad. I picked her up off the road and laid her in the grass. I went inside and had a little, loud freakout which involved a some screaming and cursing. The kids were at their dads. Once i calmed down a bit my freakout escalated as i didn't know what to do with her body. It was midnight, or later and i clearly couldn't go out and bury her at that time of night.

I paced around nervously, envisioning raccoons and all sorts of other critters dragging her off. Finally, i gathered my nerve again - because picking up bloody dead things is freaky - and went out and wrapped her in a towel and put her up on top of the picnic table.

In the morning i returned and buried her, which was it's own nightmare. But, i did it and i told the kids who took it pretty well, Except for little Eliza who is still quite sad.

I spent the rest of the weekend thinking about the fragility of life and the randomness of it and the other part of it. Those little feelings, premonitions that we get all the time. As i was leaving for work on thursday i thought about Mia being outside and shrugged it off thinking she'd be fine. Now i feel like it was a little premonition that laziness or whatever let me ignore.

On the other hand, do we have these thoughts all the time and it is only when something bad happens that they become significant or remembered?