I know you've got a heavy heart. I can feel it when we kiss.

I feel like nothing. People ask me how i am and all i can do is shrug and say "you know, just fine." That's the best answer i can come up with. Just fine.

I live a great life in a great place. I have children who are healthy and happy. I have a job. I have half a home that will soon be a brand new whole home.

It's just not enough. I keep thinking there must be something more. There must be something i am missing. Some ingredient for joy, some neuron that i just don't have.

I don't remember the last time i felt happy.

so many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it

I don't remember the last time i felt happy. How pathetic it sounds to even say that.

It just seems so easy for some people to be happy. I actually feel angry just being around them. What secret do they have. How can i get some.

When everything is lonely i can be my own best friend

I know what i am missing. I am missing companionship. I am missing coming home to someone who loves me. Who cares about the boring details of my day. Of my life.

Someone who can help me pick out paint colours and fold laundry and share a pot of tea with.

Someone who can look at me and know that i need a hug.

No matter how much i love my kids and spending time with them. No matter how much they enrich my life. No matter. It's just not enough.

It's not vitamins. Vitamins can't fix a life.

Mondays are my very favourite day of the week. Well mondays and fridays. On monday and friday i don't work and i have the kids.

We have a very unusual custody schedule that involves plenty of back and forth. It allows me to spend both my nights off with them and means they only have a babysitter one or two nights a week. It also means i get to see them every single day as i do all the school picking up/driving maintenance stuff.

On mondays and fridays i make elaborate meals, catch up on school work and plan something fun for us to do.

Wednesday, thursday and sunday nights are my least favourite times because i don't have the kids. The house is empty, cold and lonely without them.

So, today was monday. The kids are all asleep and i do what i always do - wait till they are all sleeping and then poke around the house in and out of their rooms. Feeling foreheads, kissing noses and picking up stray lego bits.

It's funny, when they are not here i don't do anything around the house. I don't cook or clean. I don't even go in the kitchen. I work, i sleep and i sit in bed with my laptop. It's a waiting. A waiting for my family.

This past month has been a crazy one. Tons of working and not much else. Well, sadness and anxiety and worry.

I am feeling better today. I had some sort of epiphany over the weekend. Realized what was important and what was causing me stress. How i want my life to look and the hard steps i need to take to get there.

Most importantly i want to be happy and healthy.

I am not very healthy right now. I have a terrible diet. I even went more than a few days without eating this past month. That was my first clue that my life was reaching toxic levels in terms of my mental health. Waking up in the morning feeling completely depleted, realizing that i hadn't eaten the previous day. I wanted to eat, but thinking about it was overwhelming. Cooking was out of reach. Restaurants suck when you spend most of your time in one.

So, today i ate. I ate a lovely meal with my children. I ate lunch too.

I have also been feeding a sort of manic impulse to be bad. Not that bad. More of a fueling of pre-divorce rage. Raging against the dying of the night. Or something like that. Staying up too late. Hanging out with the wrong people.

All of this to say i am doing better. As for my mouth i have an appointment january 7th in vancouver where i shall get part of me cut out and examined and hopefully be on the road to a healthy body without cancer cells in it.

In between then i intend to have a mighty chawesome holiday season. Thanks to Jeremy for my new favourite word.

I have this uneasy feeling. This fluttering in my chest. I remember when fluttering in my chest meant i was in the presence of someone i was madly in love with. Fluttering now is part of my constant state of anxiety and sorrow.

I am so tired of being the bad guy in this town, in this relationship, in this conversation.

Going through a divorce sucks. It sucks you dry. The pulling apart of two lives. Some parts like crazy glue. Those years shared. Some of them really great, some of them really crappy. All the years in between where we just existed, like many couples do. Just getting through the days, the work, the children.

It has been over two years since we first separated.

For two years i have been the subject of gossip and assumption. Two years is a long time to hold your head high.

If i could have one wish it would be to go back to the day i made the decision to screw it all up and kick myself in the shins.

It's not that simple though. I would have to go back many more years and kick my ex-husband in the shins. Tell him to listen to me, to respect me, to help me.

And then i'd have to go back through all the years and kick myself a few more times and kick a bunch of other people along the way.

A life unfolds. Things happen, good and bad, mundane and thrilling. All of these events in my life that formed me. I remember them all. Separation anxiety, shoplifting, eating disorders, crazy crushes, depression, mania, date rape, death, abortion, drugs, alcohol, love, happiness, sadness, birth, children, passion, desire, heartbreak.

And the one person who knew me better than anyone else, who held my secrets in his heart and my heart in his hands is gone. Free to spill my secrets out to the world.

i am so tired of this loneliness

then answer your phone asshole.

i can't. i can't.

i don't know what to say. i'm afraid of what i might say.

he said you're making it hard for him

there is nothing i can do about that. all i can do these days is sleep, work, parent and sit in my bed and participate in this endless void of both heady and lowly banter. i don't have the mental capacity to even begin to address those words, the audacity of them.

you put your angel wing necklace on again

i need it. i feel at the end of my rope. i can't take another single thing.

i still have so many things to deal with before life becomes, even remotely, normal. i don't even know what normal might look like anymore.

i did kick parenting ass today. that was a start. and i took some vitamins. and i bought some decorations.

i am not going to blow this holiday season off. i am going to make it lake house awesome. all cinnamon and pine scented.

the phone is ringing. you want to talk to this person. answer the phone.

i can't.

I have been having a rough time lately. I think it's like a coming down.

I have had many hours alone. I'm not sure why i didn't in september and october. I think my kids are sick too often and there are too many professional days.

I have spent a lot of time in bed over the past two weeks. I have felt myself unraveling. A losing of footing.

Things could have been so well, they were going well back in july. I had a house, i had a life. I was feeling happy and confidant.

One by one everything has gone to shit.

You know all that.

In the past week i have expertly removed every single person who cares about me and who i care about from my life.

I have screamed "i just want to be alone."

I am having a little breakdown and i am totally present in it. I am not denying it or playing it down. I am letting it happen.

And then i will better.

We really do feel alone. We really do.

Over the yummiest soup, looking out at the lake, i wondered how far i could swim before i would drown.

It becomes a habit. This holing up. These days of offices in bed. The connection to all the people making you feel cool one moment and like a total failure the next.

I have this annoying habit of developing huge crushes on musicians. Something about words and music and feelings. With books and writers it's the words, not them. I have crushes on books, stacking my favourites beside my bed. Giving them loving looks and caresses as i fall asleep.

Those things you said about me were very mean and hurt my feelings.

I'm surprised when people want to be my friend. It surprises me and sometimes i leap in their arms and beg them to never, ever leave me. Other times i push them away by never answering their calls or requests, saying no to get-togethers and invitations. I'm surprised the friends i do have tolerate me. Especially when i call them or show up at their door in tears in the middle of the night.

I'm surprised how many of us are alone.

I'm thinking it's probably a good thing i didn't end up being a stay-at-home mom to four school aged children.

Although i have had more days with sick kids around than not since school started in september, these days when i am home alone for five hours? I go stir crazy.

I think i don't know how to be alone. I know i don't know how to be alone.

I have friends that lunch, and yoga, and hike. Sometimes i think i should be doing those things. I should be climbing mountains, drinking wine over raunchy conversation, teetering around in high heels and put together bodies.

I should have friends. I joined Bitches Who Brunch knowing full well i would never, absolutely ever, show up.

I am socially inept. I am exactly what people think of when they hear about women who spend their days on twitter and facebook. I am a geek.

Geek sounds too romantic.

I am the living, breathing picture of social anxiety.

I can get all up in your face on the internet because i don't have to talk to you. I don't use any live chat applications, i rarely answer emails, i log in to skype in the very wee hours of the night to talk to one person. I never go "online."

I am alone, i choose to be alone, but i feel paralyzed by being alone.

This morning i had four important phone calls in a row. Usually, because i am anti-social, i never answer calls from unknown numbers. But today, today, something in my heart told me i should.

The first call came from my lawyer. My divorce lawyer. It was a conversation that reminded me of a flaccid pubescent penis confronted by the hot cheerleader. "You can do this." "You deserve this." "You are smart and pretty and the best damn waitress around."

I still felt flaccid. Limp. I am a virgin in grouchy divorce waters. I am a dog begging for her belly to be rubbed. No. I am a passive dog with my ears back who rolls over in front of you and shows you my most vulnerable parts and begs "Don't take advantage of me?"

And so he stole my money and i said "Okay!" "Sounds good." Check. Cheque $1500.

The next call came from my insurance adjuster. I have been warned about these dudes. They are all on your side. "I'm on your team." "I would never do this for anyone else, but we can see you're a special case. Single mother and all..." But then, then, when your policy is completely maxed out. Maxi pad on heavy day maxed out. Push comes to shove. And he is shoving. If you give up your metal roof, which you already paid for, we can give you your wood stove. Fine. Because i know that living in the country the power goes out all the time, for days on end. And let me tell you that grows old pretty fucking fast. Try cooking soup on a propane campstove, outside in the snow - 14 times in a row - then you will know the burning desire for a wood stove. When you live in the country.

The third call came from my Contractor. "There are a few problems with the remaining structure."

"Oh. Yeah?"

"Yes. You need to find a guy to fix them before the building inspector comes to give us final permits on friday."

Now i am getting angsty and jumpy. My daughter has swine flu. I have been up every hour for three nights to check on her breathing. I have missed two nights of work and i am pretty sure there is not enough money in my account to pay my mortgage on friday. I am feeling fucked and like this single mom thing pretty much sucks ass and how i should have done something more with my life besides having babies and ending up miserable and a waitress. But then? Then i wouldn't have my beautiful babies.

"Okay. But isn't that why you are there? Isn't that why i gave you $75,000 dollars last friday, when you called it 'lock-up'?" Meaning the house is yours motherfucker. I don't know anybody who can do those repairs.

"Okay. I'll find somebody." And they better work for free because i'm pretty sure when my mortgage and insurance payments bounce on friday i am screwed.

And then my phone started clicking for a call waiting.

"Gotta go."

"Hello?"

And it was the doctor. He's not my doctor. He's the specialist dentist/doctor who did my biopsy in my mouth 25 days ago.

A bunch of mumbo jumbo happened.

And then "there is cancer. I'm sorry. I am referring you to the cancer clinic."

"Oh. Okay. Thanks!"

And i literally said it that way. "Thanks!"

And do you know what i did? I kid you not because this is the part that will haunt me for the rest of my life. I went outside. I sat down. And with trembling hands i lit a cigarette. Yes. I did that. You have mouth cancer and she goes outside and fucking smokes. I didn't know what else to do. Believe me i felt the irony and fucked upness of that moment. But, i didn't know what else to do. I had nobody to call, or nobody i wanted to call.

You see. I knew. I knew all along that this would be the result. I knew back in the summer when my dentist first noticed. I knew during that agonizing three month wait for the biopsy. I knew when the specialist frowned. I knew when i got a bill from him last friday that said "Tumor biopsy - $278" I knew when i left a message yesterday asking for results.

And i did know tonight when i talked to my best friend in the world and couldn't tell him. I waited and called him back an hour later and told him.

I mean it is not completely bad. I have a tumor in my mouth that has cancer cells in it. They haven't spread or "broken through."

I called the doctor back later, confused, "so, does this mean i have cancer?"

"Yes, yes it does."

My two youngest kids spent many nights in the hospital when they were young. Eliza was hospitalized on nine separate occasions for asthma, pneumonia and the flu. Parker has been hospitalized four times for pneumonia. They both continue to take singular, steroids and a puffer for asthma.

Tristan tested positive for H1N1 earlier this week. It has been over two years since we have had a stay on the pediatric floor. Sometimes i go long lengths of time not thinking about their weakened immune system, when the swine flu epidemic gained momentum a few weeks ago i began researching the vaccine and had decided that we needed to get it. As a mother the thought of putting my children at risk, in any way, is not an option. The risks of vaccination, for me, have always been outweighed by the risk of illness.

The fact that H1N1 entered my home before the vaccine was available is beyond frustrating and alarming.

I am coming back for you, leave the house after supper
meet me at Low Gap, I will come with two horses, one in each
hand, they will be striped with darkness and the shadow
of deep wells.

"The Jesse James Poems" Paulette Jiles

The one thing i fail to learn, year in, year out, is that expectations will get you nothing. Expectations will give you sleepless nights and stomach aches, longing and doubt, disappointment.

My birthday weekend turned out to be full of antibiotics and changes of plans and making do with what was on hand.

The kids and i had a great time together, which at the end of the day when i look in my heart and think of what i truly want - it is special moments and memories with them. We played laser tag and hung out with family. I was a little off because of a nasty infection, but my sister, the doctor, quickly sorted me out. I was a little off because i had expected to see friends and have some time to myself and my dreams. I was a little off.

The kids mirrored my mood, my mood swings. We all swung high to low, glee to anger. It was a challenging weekend. I have to remind myself that holidays are especially difficult for them. We are not together as a nuclear family, we are together as a new family. Post-nuclear.

I have to learn to limit my expectations to what they can handle, what is best for them. Save my dreaming for my time without them.

stolen over me

i feel sad. i am sad for my house i lost.

silver lining

your presence always brings me round

it changed so many things. a path.

really, i still can't talk about it. it makes me cry and i try to be strong.

we went this afternoon, the house all tented and tarped because of asbestos. completely gutted. nothing left but pillars and posts. a ghost in my house.

and i sleep in a bed that is not mine, and sheets that are not mine. and eliza cries because she has nothing of hers, not even the dogs. it makes me sad.

all i have lost.

and to each detail raise my hand

This has been the hardest week of my life. Trying so hard to keep it together. To do everything that needs to get done. To sound like i know what i am talking about.

And it is everything in the midst of everything. It is busy enough already. I walk in the restaurant completely drained. I haven't slept in a week. I haven't had a decent meal. I keep pushing. I think i have aged 100 years.

I will now be old and wise.

The only thing i hadn't thought of was being angry. And someone asked me today if i was angry. And i said "no, not at all."

And then it pounced on me.

I am angry.

That is what has been eating at me. I am fucking pissed off. How could this have happened. My children screaming at me and then bursting in tears. Asking me why. "WHY" They want their home. The home we worked on. Shitty-ass oldness and all.

They were furious when they found out bedroom floors would be brand new, not plywood they could paint. We don't want the new modern house in our old house shell. We want the dream we started to build.

We don't see the silver lining.

We see dreams lost.

We see someone else's home that we have to move into. We see all our lovely things going into storage for six months or more. We see another delay on being the family we want to be.

As i sit here a mother deer and her little baby nibble on my greens just outside the window, they are both beautiful and gracious and gimpy and clumsy. A getting to know. A learning to nurture and mother.

My youngest daughter has life-threatening allergies. In many ways, after eight years, it's not that big a deal. It is part of our daily lives, but we are all used to it. We are cautious, but carefree. We have our own set of rules and boundaries that keep her safe.

Last night i went out for dinner and then went to watch some friends rehearse their songs. It was fun and carefree. I was thinking, wistfully, off and on about the kids and missing them as i do when they are not with me. Feeling slightly off, like being in the wrong place, or the right place without your clothes. I thought i was having anxiety because my chest kept getting tighter and tighter. It was hard to breathe. I headed for home thinking i could use the puffer and take some holy basil and feel better.

The thing was, i didn't feel better. I kept feeling worse and a peek in the mirror returned upon me a face stricken with bright red welts. Welts that ran down my neck and arms. Definitely not a panic attack. Allergy! The thing is i am totally prepared for this situation with my daughter, but not myself. At this time panic set in for real. Like the high maintenance machine that i am, my body has found another way to befuddle and amuse me in a way that is totally not funny.

So long story short an epipen was injected in my thigh and i got better. I just need to find out why that happened and what the hell i am allergic to. Oh, and purchase more epipens.

Why hello. I am going a little crazy trying to buy this house and get a bunch of freelance work done, as well as, you know, job and kids.

Give me one more day and i'll be back unless i self-implode first.

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?

divorced from jess howard on Vimeo.

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.

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 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.

This morning Parker, in the midst of an angry moment, said to me "i wish you were in heaven."

Now, i know he's only five, he didn't really mean it and he didn't understand the sting those words would have. I couldn't get angry with him, i just told him how much those words hurt and asked him to apologize to me. I got a grudgingly angry "SORRY!"

Parker has always been a little fireball. When he is hurt, physically or emotionally, his reaction is anger. Even rage. I have tried and tried over the years to get him to understand the route of these aggressive feelings and channel them somewhere else. Or, better yet, to just walk away.

I have not had much success. I keep hoping that he will grow out of it, that he will change.

Wanting a five year old, whom i adore, to change is kind of a ridiculous goal. For now i will continue to reward the good and ignore the bad. Unless you have a different idea?

I am trying to wrap my head around writing a grace in small things post and i just can't think of anything to say today.

Yesterday i had a yucky doctors appointment and then i discovered eliza had lice after her bath and then while checking toby i found a flea in his hair. Total ugh. Then, of course, my night ended with a fight.

I took my first Amitryptiline before bed and woke up dizzy, foggy, and dehydrated. I hate this.

I am trying to see the good in everything, but sometimes, sometimes we all just need to wallow.

My day has been full of ironic twists in what, i can only assume, is a karmic payback.

Bright and early this morning i headed to the doctor for that wonderful annual physical. All is good; weight, blood pressure, heart, lungs, reflexes, other parts. I had a couple of concerns which the wonder of google had me alternately feeling like a hypochondriac and on the verge of death by curious disease.

One thing was nothing. A lump is sometimes just a lump.

The other thing has me headed out in the morning for blood tests and CAT scans. You see, for a couple months when i engage in a certain activity, just as i get to the best part of that activity, i get a sudden onset migraine that feels more like my brain is about to explode. So, i've stopped doing that activity because i really didn't want my head to explode.

The doctor was a little concerned, but had heard of this problem before. Which is always a relief because i don't want to be some medical phenomenon.

He prescribed me a low dose of an antidepressant which has some success in relief of migraines. I can't help feeling like i am coming full circle. Just days after i write that big post about not taking medication, i am here, blue pills in hand.

Thanks to schmutzie for that title.

I have been struggling in small and large ways recently. I vacillate between anxiety, paranoia and calmly accepting this life. At times i struggle with this feeling that the world is out to get me. That no matter how i try, how hard i work to be a good person, how i trudge forward to a better future - i am simply not capable of being the person the universe needs me to be. That i am doomed to a life of loneliness.

That when my children are grown i will be left an empty shell with no past, present or future.

I know that my children are, in many ways, my life's great work. I know that they are and will be amazing, generous, complicated creatures. But, will they look at me and wonder why i never did more. Why what i had was never enough.

I have always struggled with trying to be content with being a mother, a homemaker, a wife. Many women live happily in the privileged state that i exist. There is a home, food, clothing, toys - everything we could possibly need. Yet, i have wanted more. I want more.

I want success in something that i can wrap my fingers around. Something that will be respected and appreciated. Most of my twenties and thirties have flown by in this whirlwind of family. The shiny faced university graduate full of expectation and promise got lost. Now i approach middle age and i have not accomplished any of the things that young girl hoped to.

I have watched and supported my husband as he has turned drive and determination into a successful business. I think i am not alone in resenting this common position in a marriage. He has both the children and home and the success and respect from peers.

Doubled up with that is the frustration that if i was a middle aged man returning to the workforce my possibilities would be much less limited. It was not my dream to be a waitress. I do enjoy it. I love food and the mysterious dance of dining. I am too old to become a chef. It's hard enough for female chefs to garner respect or status, restaurants do not hire beginner chefs older than 35. It doesn't happen. It is a young man's game.

I don't even particularly want to be a chef. It has been one of many occupations i have rolled around in my head and crossed off a mental list.

I am frustrated. I wonder if being a mother was a socially respected and status garnering occupation i would feel any differently.

Last night twenty elementary school teachers made me cry. It was their party and and i was reduced to tears.

I was working and the teachers were celebrating someones birthday. It started out bad, BAD, right from the moment they walked in and hated the way their tables were set up. It's a boring story really. They were not diners and expected fast service and appetizers and meals to come at the same time. And twenty separate checks. Right away!

I busted my ass for two hours getting them drinks, making tableside caesars and organizing bills. Then they stood up and started berating me for "no service for two hours!"

I'm not sure what it was, but i totally lost it. I didn't get angry. I just broke down. I had to leave and sit outside for half an hour. I think that i'm just exhausted. That all the hard work i am doing in all corners of my life feels so unrewarded. Or perhaps, acknowledged.

I have this personality that makes me want to please people, make them happy, help them out. I do it because i like it. I like it when people are happy because of some small thing i did. That's why i like my job, i love the act of fine dining. The escape, for a few hours, from reality. To pamper with great food, great wine and a great atmosphere. Seeing people truly enjoy the company of others. It feels good to do that, to provide that interlude from this crazy world.

One of the hardest, most stressful parts of my days is finding babysitters. Capable babysitters. I had a couple of really great ones, but they are in their 20's now and have better, more exciting ways to earn money. Like working at burger king.

My kids are not the easiest to look after. Toby and parker tend, rather often, towards the highly rambunctious passionate play. Play that often ends in tears, hitting and screaming. Eliza has this nut allergy that requires me to train new sitters how to identify an allergic reaction and administer epinephrine. Tristan is pretty much perfect, except for her propensity to stay up till midnight reading.

So, last night i finally found a sitter to try. A lovely girl. I was hopeful. I was relieved. I was skeptical.

Most days it takes everything i have to make it through the day without bursting into tears of frustration and getting the various chores of cooking, cleaning and laundry done.

Things were going well. I checked in at 9:30 and all was quiet and kids tucked in. At 10pm i had a table walk in, meaning i would be working for another two hours. At 10:23 the sitter called and flu fest had suddenly, without warning, struck my home. Eliza had thrown-up all over herself and her bed. Toby was moaning with a tummy ache. I was panicked. I really wanted to be there and make sure everything was okay. I remember as a child being sick around other people. It wasn't a nurturing feeling.

I had to plow through. Have faith they would be okay.

I ran into the house at midnight. And all was okay. They were sick, yes. But they were all snuggled on the couch together waiting for me to come and sort through the smelly sheets and tuck them back in. I kind of felt like a hero, a good mommy, for a few moments.

And now? Maybe i have a babysitter. (fingers crossed)

How did i end up here?

I think that's a question many of us ask ourselves. I asked myself that each time i looked down on the amazing thing that is a newborn baby. I asked myself that each time i moved cities. Each time we bought a new house. When i sat in a room full of other women in san jose, in chicago. I ask myself that every weekend when i wake up to a cold and lonely house, wondering what my beautiful children are doing. How they could be somewhere else, without me.

And i long for them. I ache. My heart rolls around, becomes physically pained. I wander through their rooms. Looking at their things, touching their pillows. Wondering how they are doing. How is their heart. I hope it doesn't hurt like mine.

I long for the days when we were a family. When we would spend days without worry. The really good days, that just happened without planning.

The days before my depression tore my family apart. Before my manic outbursts created a ripple in our lives that would forever change us. Who we were. The days when they didn't have to worry about when they were going to see me again. The days before we were a broken home.

Sometimes i want to step back into that life. I have to restrain myself from calling, pleading to be forgiven. To take it all back. I forget now a lot of the ways it was to be married. I forget what it feels like to sleep in a bed with my husband and parker wedged in between us. I forget a lot of the things that made me angry, or sad or lonely.

I just feel this now.

Aside from my poor kitty i have been battling the stomach flu since sunday. Holy heck i never knew such stink could come from me. The cramping, the nausea, the headaches. Yuck.

So, i'm walking around looking just like parker up there. Those frown lines between his eyes? Totally come from me.

I feel horrible and there are things i want to write, instead i find myself falling in to bed with parker at 8 every night.

I had a whole post written last night. I'm sure it was really great. Somehow it totally disappeared.

I'll write it again later.

So, my birthday came and went.

I picked up the kids the morning of my birthday and they didn't know. I felt bad, knowing they would feel bad they forgot. I told them on the way to school that we would make it a great day.

After school they came home and hid out in their rooms and made lovely cards and gifts. We had a nice dinner. Together. The five of us. They sang a rambunctious happy birthday. We snuggled. We wrestled. We giggled.

It was a lovely night.

A lonely night.

A friend dropped by a gift during the day. It was the only one i received. It was special. That simple knock on the door. A hug.

Have you ever been afraid. Really afraid.

I was scared. I have been scared so many times. I am scared.

I am scared of this new life i have created.

I drive by my new house. Sitting empty. Various worker people making it ready for me.

Am i ready for it. Am i ready for this new life.

What the hell have i done.

I speak to shane on the phone. Exchanging courtesies. Children importances. It is all so comfortable. Except, as he said, the big white elephant.

Yet, i keep going back to that. That place that is perfectly comfortable. Where you can burp and fart, pee with the door open, laugh about your flaws. Until your flaws become so unbearable.

Until they are pointed out.

And you are left alone wondering how the hell you became the person so afraid. Afraid of the truth. The tricky highway of the lies you have told.

I have been feeling very alone. People avoid me. I am the "oh shit, that could happen to me" girl.

Nobody wants to talk to me. Less than a handful of people have even asked me if i am okay. Less have offered help. I sit alone with my kids. My sick kids. The simple things. I have no tylenol. Parker is burning up with fever and i can't just run out and get tylenol. I have to make choices. Pack them all up to go to the store. Hope that the fever passes. Call shane for medicine. But he doesn't want to see me. Too painful for him. Choices left to haunt me.

It is my birthday in a few days. I will be working. I will be alone. Holiday number 2.

The week has been up and down. Separation agreement delivered to me. Most of me just wants to sign it and be done, but the logical part of me knows this is important. I need to stand up for myself. Not let my guilt and anxiety take control.

The kids are doing well. Parker has been by my side. Constantly offering up kisses and hugs. He's changed his threats from "i'm going to hit you..." to "i'm going to give you (holds up all his little fingers) this many kisses and hugs."

They are adjusting to the different houses and out of school care. Eagerly discussing halloween costumes and which house to trick or treat at. I will be moving into my new house on the 30th.

My family has come through for me in amazing moments of support and the promise of a van full of furniture on the 30th.

I feel very lucky.

I will never know if this decision is the right one. It's just a different path. One i never thought i'd take.

The kids will be with shane and his family for thanksgiving this weekend. I will be working. Working will make it easier to get through this first holiday as separate families.

I will be thankful for families and children. Beautiful children who make everything a little better.

It's been hard.

I've had better days.

I feel very alone. Circumstances outside of my control. The breakdown of a marriage. The breakdown of a community. Sides have been decided.

I find myself on the losing end. Walking lonely and overwhelmed through the schoolyard.

Wishing i had family. I had support. I had the village.

Instead, i have the condo. An island unto myself.

The crazy work hours. Trying to keep it all together. Missing the kids. Missing the family bed.

This morning i found myself in tears at the school. Nobody to cry too.

Nobody to blame but myself.

I thought writing about depression, hospitals and suicide attempts was hard.

That was nothing. Nothing compared to this.

The real emotional toll and burden.

My marriage is over. It was over a long time ago. All of these days, weeks, months have been deliberate steps that i have taken to end the marriage. I never intended to cause so much pain.

But. I have been in pain for so long. I have cried so many tears over the years. And now. Now, i have no tears left. My heart has turned to stone.

For now.

I am focused on the kids. Making this as easy as possible for them. The things that i have put my family through this year. I am ashamed. I hope.

I hope that, in the end, as we walk these steps i have made some choices which were right. That in the end they will think i was a good mother. They will remember the hours and hours i spent playing at the school. The driving back and forth. The snuuggle times in my bed. The sleepovers in my room.

Not that i was the one who left the house. I was the one who ended the family.

The thing about all of this, this seperation, is that it makes me lonely for what i used to have. The things that the years have taken from me.

I miss the man i married. I miss my youth. I miss life without kids.

When the kids are with their dad i know they are in good hands. I don't worry about them. Hard as it is to say, i don't miss them. I am enjoying the time alone. The time to think. To be with myself. It's like a first date. What are my hopes. What are my dreams. What kind of music do i like. What are my hobbies.

The condo i have rented is in a resort. On the lake. There is a private beach, a swimming pool, golf. They call this place the divorce resort. This is where everyone goes when they are in the midst of marital strife. It's easy. Walk in to furniture, dishes, even towels.

Each morning i wake up and watch the fog lift over the lake, the sun struggle it's way out. I am struck by the beauty of my hometown.

People canoeing over to the local lakeside restaurant for breakfast.

I like who i am. I like being free from depression and anxiety. I like feeling like a normal person. I like the weekends working crazy lunches at the bistro. Coming home to count my tips. Sitting around in my underwear. Listening to music.

I don't like the thinking. Thinking about my marriage. Forced to make a choice. Never knowing the right thing to say. Afraid of more confrontation. Afraid of the fighting. The sadness. The burden i have placed on my husband. His deep sadness. Still loving. But ready to let go. Accepting the thought that i may be alone forever. Yet, somehow, at peace with that.

I totaled my car today. I broke a utility pole clear in half.

I was alone. I am fine. The air bags deployed and i have some burns on my face.

Mostly, i feel kicked when i'm down and i have no car for at least awhile. I live in the country. Do you know what that means?

Hell. I am in hell.

Stupid cellphone ringing while i'm driving.

I'm tired of talking about me. That's my face, taken on my cellphone, after too many hours of "tell me about..."

Instead i will tell you about my beautiful children.

Spring break is happening. Tristan and Toby just returned from a fun-filled trip to saltspring. Parker, eliza and i went swimming before we picked them up. I sat back in the freakishly warm kiddy pool and watched them show me all their new tricks. Their pride in blowing bubbles out their noses or the fact that they can touch the bottom almost all the way from one end to another.

We went out for a lunchtogether afterward and sat three in a row in a booth. Me in the middle. We coloured, played tic-tac-toe and giggled at parker's potty jokes. We shared some salad and pasta and garlic bread and headed off to the ferry to pick-up the two big ones.

Often when tristan and toby go i am comforted by the fact that they are in loving hands and having fun. This time i really missed them. When they left sunday morning my eyes were red, raw and puffy. I knew they noticed. Tristan called several times with just a "Hi mom" on the other end of the line. Her way of checking in.

They raced off the ferry, running straight into my arms. Leaving grandma running behind with their suitcases and bags full of artwork. It was a moment of joy. Just like a movie. But so real. I have never been so in love with them. I have never needed them more.

Tonight i lingered by their beds as shane put parker to bed. Toby asked "so mom, what did you do while we were away?" I just sighed and told him i had seen a lot of doctors. I leaned in and whispered i loved him in his ear, that he was my very favourite oldest son, that i was proud of him and happy to have him home.

"Right back at you mom."

My head is somewhere else today.

I feel sloppy, dizzy and dopey. Like some screwed up effexor version of the seven dwarves.

I spent most of the day in and out of bed and now i am sitting at the school outside of a meeting where i can hear them talking about me. In many negative ways.

It is a positive and uplifting way to end a shitty mental health day.

On my way to soccer on saturday i got a call from an old friend. When i left victoria i lost contact with most of my friends, but it never really bothered me. We would speak once or twice a year and it was always nice and comfortable. They were and are the kind of friends that always remain a part of your life. The memories of time spent more ingrained than distance between conversations.

The same way it can feel when you speak with your best friend from elementary school after not talking for decades. Time just sort of melts away. There is still that sense of family, that sense of love.

My friend called to tell me that my friend Jeremy had killed himself. He said it casually, apologizing. There's no easy way to say something like that. I appreciated the brevity. We spoke for a few moments. He told me about the service on tuesday at Alix Goolden Hall in Victoria.

I hadn't spoken to Jeremy in several years. But i will never forget him and he is someone i think of often.

In 1995 after i was married, before i was pregnant, after my nervous breakdown and suicide attempts i was going through a small rough patch. More a fear that it would never get better for me. Wondering how i could ever be a good wife.

Jeremy was a doorman, well more than that - him and my two other best friends in the world at the time were local promoters in victoria - and i was at a show. I think it was some early incarnation of Hot Hot Heat. Anyway, the bar was quiet and i was there alone and feeling sad. After the bar closed Jeremy and i sat talking for hours. I poured out my heart and soul to him. I told him all the things i hadn't told anyone. How scared i was of life.

He listened. He offered me the best advice i've ever had. He understood everything i said. He had spent a lifetime of ups and downs.

We ended up driving around through the sunrise and i dropped him off in the dawn hours and he made me promise him that i would always be okay. I told him i would. He said sometimes okay is enough.

I am sad that he forgot that, or that he lost okay.

I'm asking for a blogging hall pass.

I'm going camping until thursday. A little sun, a little beach, a little friendship.

I don't have much to say. I feel a little naked. I am not taking the effexor yet. I am waiting for some thyroid tests to come back and also to wait until i am back in my home. So far?

The clonazepam is settling down my manic head and anxiety ridden days. I already find i'm getting headaches when i don't take it.

Shane has gone from worried to mad. Just like that. I understand. He was mad way back then. Mad that we have to deal with this.

Really, i'm hoping that better feels better than this and hoping for lots of this

We are going to a very small gulf coast island, camping right in the sand.

See you thursday.
Thanks so much for all the email and stuff...

jess
xxoo

I went to the doctor today. If you knew me you'd know what a huge deal that is in itself. I hired a babysitter, which i can't afford, so that i could go alone. I have been unwell for awhile. Unwell in a way that i can't talk to people about because i am so terrified of being judged. I have been slowly seeping into this pit of despair and anxiety. You may have noticed i am a train wreck waiting to happen.

Twelve years ago i was thrown into a pit of despair that was so complete that it has made me hesitate before every step i have taken since. At the end of that horrible time in my life i ended up in a local mental hospital because of a purposeful overdose on prescrition medicine. My despair was so consuming that while waiting in my doctors office i poured through his "Compendium of Pharmaceuticals" so that i could determine the exact lethal dose of all the medications i was taking. Instead of taking the medicine that would make me better i hoarded it until i had the right amount. The love and fear of my future husband saved my life.

Why am i bringing this up now? Lately i have been feeling myself teetering on the brink of "okay" and "not okay." I've had panic attacks and days on end of anxiety and crushing depression that ebbs and flows. More recently i have felt my brain alive with searing pain and prickly energy. A feeling that terrifies me. I have been staying up late, my mind racing with thoughts. Even as i lay in bed, hoping for sleep, my brain is obsessively writing blog posts.

I can barely bring myself to face each day. The kids have been left to their own devices, in terms of entertainment, which all too often is television or computer. I have been less of a parent, more of a dazed and confused supervisor. I have though that it would be easier to just not be here.

And i look at my children. I feel how much i love them. They are everything to me. The thought of being this kind of mother tears my heart out.

And that is why i went to the doctor today.

I was a mess in that doctors office. A loose cannon of anxiety, guilt and worry. I hate talking about my past. I am ashamed of what happened to me. I am desperate for someone to help me make sure it doesn't happen again. I am scared of being judged. I am scared of being a bad mother. I am scared of losing my children.

I hate medicine. I hate that it makes me not feel like myself. I am scared to be happy and normal. Who am i then? My whole identity is being shy and child-like. More at ease with children than adults. I think i like being sad - it makes for such interesting thoughts. I don't know how to be happy for long periods of time. I know how to feel love and compassion. I know how to have fun. I know how to self-medicate. I know that it's a problem when i am looking at the clock wondering when is an acceptable hour to have a glass of wine, knowing that it is never acceptable to drink alone.

He asked me if anything had happened. I spoke loosely of weaning parker and wondering about the change in hormones after so many years of gestating and nursing. I couldn't tell him about my blog and how it changed my whole world, in relation to my family, a few moths ago. How can you talk about this and not appear a fool.

And so?

And so, i am sitting here with my brand new prescriptions. One for Effexor and one for Clonazepam. I have never taken either before, but after a long discussion of all the drugs i've tried in the past and even talking about my fears of withdrawal and addiction, these are the two that i will try.

I guess i am inviting you along for the rest of the ride. I may never have another thing to say. I hope i am no longer a train wreck. I hope i can be as happy as i was a few years ago.

I'll admit before i say another word that it is late at night. It is late at night and i've been staying up way too late.

I feel so sad and lonely since i got home. I felt sad and lonely when i was away too.

It's worse now. I'm struggling with so many emotions in my head. I'm here, back in my life. And i don't want to be. I don't want to be a mom right now. I know it's terrible. I just want to be alone. To wallow in my misery for awhile. To let it be mine.

When i am here i have no options, no choices. I have to live this life that i have chosen.

Everybody posted about how much they missed their kids. I didn't miss mine. I love them. I tangle them with kisses all day. Trying to embrace and feel, really feel, the love that breaks my heart. Yet somehow, between them and me. I don't know.

I guess i'm sad.

In the midst of this beautiful summer and freckle faced kids i'm depressed. Or, at the very least, having an existential crisis.

The kind of crisis that is usually reserved for college days when time drags on between classes, lost loves and a fine balance between beer and coffee.

I feel insignificant. Important to few save for the four little mouths i clothe, feed and love. I just don't see where i fit in. How my life can be portrayed in all the important ways i feel it should. I am a mother. I am little else. Everything i do revolves around that status, or lack of. Even taking off to california next week. I have only found the strength to do something for myself when it comes with the "mommyblogging" stamp of approval.

I don't care anymore about my clothes, or the ten pounds i didn't lose, or the teeth i didn't whiten. I wonder why i'm even going. I'm looking forward to the time alone and away, but i am also scared. History tells me that when left to my own devices and idle time my mind gets up to misadventures.

After spending a week with family members i've realized the toll this blogging thing has taken on my relationship with my family. Blogging has changed my life and i'm not sure it's for the better. I love writing. I love the discipline of having to write everyday. I love the outlet for all these crazy thoughts and adventures. I love sharing my life when in another time i would never be able to.

But, for this blog that very few people read, i have given up a little bit of the love i once shared with my family.

Part of me will tell you that they have read things they didn't like. That i've shared feelings that were, perhaps, better left unsaid. That i have made people uncomfortable by talking about my struggles.

Another part of me will tell you that talking about my struggles has helped me. Sharing the joy i feel when i think about my children and my husband; those thoughts saved forever, that makes it all worth it to me.

My little camera, my little rebel. It is broken. One month shy of the date i purchased it and only days after i paid it off. Broken.

I am so sad. I have no money to fix it and even if i did it wouldn't be ready for my big trip to california.

And it was full of nudie shots of shane.

So. I got beamed in the head with the softball last night. I was tough. After a few minutes laying in the dirt feeling disoriented and dizzy i sat on the bench for half an inning, then went out again. After another inning i realized that i couldn't think straight and felt like i was only visiting my body.

Later on at home i started to feel really bad and barfy. I spent most of the night in emergency. I have an inner ear injury and a concussion.

The veterinarian on our team said that if i start walking in circles it's time to shoot me.

I'll be back in a couple.

xxoo

I am grumpy. I am so grumpy. So! I thought i'd share because everyone loves grumpiness right? These are the things that are making me very grumpy:

1. eliza keeping me up for four hours last night crying and wimpering that she was scared. After the first couple of hours and having her right beside me i stopped being sympathetic.

2. grumpy kids today.

3. my husband being the coach of baseball and patronizing me and the other women on the team.

4. stinky chicken poo.

5. stinky dogs with fleas and no money for Program or Advantage until next week.

6. the 80 hour 7 day work week that shane is maintaining.

7. facial hair - what's that about? it's age isn't it. stupid age.

8. cooking - breakfast, lunch, dinner infinity - daunting.

9. laundry - this is the rest of my life.

10. a long to do list that i just cant get through.

11. no more greys anatomy or survivor.

12. stupid periods. eight years without was good.

13. shane and i forgot our 11th wedding anniversary last saturday and i made the fatal error of telling him it didn't matter. I will never get my spa day.

Tell me what makes you grumpy. Really. I want to know.

Norwalk Virus

Very Sick

Back Soon

It seems that i can't leave the house these days without really pissing someone off. Everybody is mad at me.

Except parker and eliza. Eliza has declared herself the organizer of spring. Every morning after tristan and toby head off to school she comes up with our plan for the day. Three days this week the order of the day was a park at a local river complete with suspension bridge and frogs. Lots of frogs. One morning we made the mistake of taking the dogs who scared every little frog away to froggy hiding places. Today though the frogs were in full spring bloom.

My family is not speaking to me, nice people have sent me nice emails and i've answered them all wrong or not at all, parents at the school are mad at me and they're taking it out on my children and i pulled a muscle in my thigh playing softball last night. I forget about these things as we go about our simple daily adventures. But they are always there too. Weighing me down.

I'm not used to people being angry with me. I'm a nice person, a little odd sure, but gosh darnit people like me. So, if i've managed to piss you off too please forgive me i didn't really mean it.

It's morning now and i'm feeling better. I can do this.

I was speaking with a friend the other night about how different our children's personalities are. As we talked one thing really stuck out for me.

I have completely different expectations of my girls than i do of my boys.

I allow toby and parker to be more emotional, to push the limits more because they are both more affectionate with me. They display their love for me easily and without hesitation.

Both my girls are a bit more difficult. Neither of them have ever been super snuggly or can even say the words "i love you." When they do sit down beside me and try to snuggle up it's always awkward and uncomfortable. They don't fit easily in between all my lumps and bumps.

In turn, i push them harder. Have very high expectations of them relative to their age.

Now, i know that i haven't really explained how these two things are connected: affection and expectations. It's more the smacking reality when you suddenly realize that you are treating your kids differently and those differences run down gender lines.

I know, i know, reading posts about sicks families is boring. I'm yawning already.

Seriously though every spring! Every fucking spring we get sick just right at that moment where you pop your hand out the door, feel warm sunshine, push your winter boots aside and put on the flip flops. Right then. Right as i step my pale foot out the door the flu bug attacks.

Tristan is on the mend and on antibiotics, toby came down with it last night at 3am and cried from then until we put him back to bed at 7pm tonight, parker is hacking and weezing upstairs with shane right now so that i can have a few minutes of peace before i head back in. Eliza, officially first in line for the good stuff in the will, is still healthy - but on mucho steroids as a prophylactic.

I predict very little sleep tonight and the hospital with parker sometime in the next 48 hours.

sigh

I was supposed to go on a mothers weekend away in tofino this weekend. Up in smoke that one. It's okay though as i was having mild to moderate anxiety just thinking about a trip with 12 ladies and no getaway plan.

And seriously fevers of 103? That's pretty darn high right?

For the record i did remove a post early this morning. It felt a little too personal, even for me.

Actually, it only felt that way after i got some rotten, stinky emails.

I'm going to look at it again later, edit it, and maybe repost it.

Sorry to those of you that commented.

I have this vivid memory from grade two. I'm running down a small hill, out of the woods, and onto the playground. For some reason this boy, anthony, is mad at me. As he sees me coming, limbs flailing, he sticks his arm straight out with a fist at the end. I run straight into it, belly first. It was the first time the wind was knocked out of me. Such a horrible feeling. As a mother i have watched numerous kids live this uncomfortable experience - wind knocked out. For me it was a profound moment. A moment where i realized that i was not in control of my body and it did things i didn't like.

That is how i feel right now. Spring came up a week or so ago. I was elated, running through the fields, arms wide open channeling sound of music elated. Then, somehow, this life i thought i had all under control punched me in the gut. The ripple effect (not only from belly fat) has sent me reeling. My mind does things to me that i do not like. Twelve years ago i was diagnosed as bipolar, actually severe depression with rapid cycling hypomania. Most of the time since then i have remained firmly rooted in my non-medicated just getting by and i really love my family way. Lately though? I just don't know.

I'm feeling confused and sad and full of anxiety about many things, mostly about eliza and toby, but i can't share yet. Also, money and going back to work and my unfulfilled career and dreams of a career. I can't even speak the right words to shane without being all blubbery and "whatever" and turning to the computer to escape. And i am up way too late. Again.

And so? And so please excuse my wacky, without a point posts. I'm in turmoil.

And i'm feeling like i can't do this anymore.

My anxiety levels are rising and falling. I can't find any trigger or 'thing' that starts it. Last night i had several bad dreams again. This morning i woke up at 6:00am and thought i wouldn't get back to sleep, but i woke up an hour later sweaty and full of adrenaline. I dreamt that eliza and toby went missing. Most of my bad dreams involve losing my kids. It got much worse after parker walked out the door and down the road last summer. He was only 21 months old. It will forever sit at the front of my most terrifying moments memories.

Then this morning i find this blog. It just makes me so sad and scared. Scared that all of this can be lost.

It's really the hardest part of being a parent isn't it.

I'm all over the map recently. Today i am struggling/suffering through a huge sinus headache and many demands on my time and brain.

I have a mild cold and last night took some neo citron before bed. Ouch, i woke up several times with major anxiety and heart palpitations after some really nasty nightmares that, in retrospect, were more silly than scary as nightmares often are. Parker was up for several hours again itching and scratching from his eczema. *sigh* If it's not one thing it's another. That's how parenting goes though, right?

Thank you so much for all the kind and helpful suggestion to help with his constipation. He seems to have passed, ha!, the biggest and hardest part and now the trick is keeping him flowing. I will definitely up his fluid intake as well as get some other supplies for the next emergency!

Toby's teacher informed me today that he would probably have to spend an extra year in the primary grades. Such a blow. I know it will be for the best, if it happens and in the long run will help him. But, *bigger sigh* he has such a great group of friends who are all older than him and to add another grade between them will just be a huge thing for his ego. Plus, the whole wanting your child to be perfectly normal - that's hard for me. I just want it to be easier sometimes.

*very large big sigh*

But, yesterday a reporter called me from the globe and mail (canadian newspaper) who found me through my blog and interviewed me about the BC Budget. Ha! Should be in the paper tomorrow.

I have been feeling like my bucket is full. I have taken on too much and my body is breaking down. I'm sick with a cold, but that's okay because i can now take neo citran for the first time in many, many years. The upside to weaning parker is feeling no guilt about anything i put in my body.

It's not the cold it's the stress. Difficult toddlers, board members that act like difficult toddlers, husband of many temper tantrums, the long depressing winter, the isolation, the hitting, biting and screaming.

Last week i found myself lying in bed beside a stressed out husband who just wanted to get lucky and i had a full blown panic attack. I haven't had one of those in a long time. Probably twelve years.

Then on saturday night, after our get lucky more than once! valentines re-do on friday, shane and i went out for dinner as his mom and dad had stopped by. We went to our favourite thai place in victoria and had a delicious dinner. When we were ready to leave i went to the washroom and was immediately and ferociously taken over by nausea and massive intestinal gurgling. In a panic we headed to the car and started for home. I was full of anxiety, feeling like crap, just wanting to get out of the damn city. I was so scared i was going to have to lean out the window and throw-up on a city sidewalk with people all around. I just wanted to be home in the country where no one can see you lose bowel control whilst barfing.

It didn't last long. When we got home i let go of that dinner once and for all and felt better by morning. It's the anxiety that is sticking with me. I just can't keep up with all the demands on me. I am falling into bad habits. Staying up way too late. Relying on food, chocolate and alcohol to make me feel better. I need spring.

That song? "This Year" That is my mantra, my song.

I know i said i wouldn't be back this weekend, but i am soothing my broken soul with some red wine and iTunes. A few minutes after i wrote my last post we headed back to emergency. We spent another six hours there and i think we can now say that he has started to get better. Phew.

I don't think i can really put into words how it feels when your child is sick like that. Sick in a way that you know 99% of the time it works out just fine, but sometimes it doesn't. Breathing, lung function - the centre of our bodies universe - when they are not working right in your little 30 pound child it is truly terrifying. I am thankful for modern medicine no matter how screwed up the system may be.

I'm feeling a little detached from myself. Lonely, sad. Depressed a little i guess. I hesitate to talk about it because i know my mom will read this and worry as mothers do (right... see above). But, a large part of who i am and how i feel about walking through this world is made up by my brain chemistry.

I keep typing more and erasing it.

I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me.

**updated to add**

I forgot to say not only do i have the coldsore, the period, the zits; someone broke into my car in the hospital parking lot and stole my iPod. Those are some bad people, stealing from people in the hospital.

parker has pneumonia. i'm at the hospital with him. back soon.

I've been tagged to do that weird habits meme thing. I am putting my foot down on this one because i am not weird in any way, or is that not, not weird?

Seriously.

I could tell you that i like to count how many steps it takes to do anything and get anywhere. Especially stairs. This one cracks shane up.

I like to pick the kids noses. They LOVE that.

I am very claustrophobic. I can't stand driving with all the windows closed or having anyone lie on top of me. This one makes shane very happy.

I hate talking on the phone. Call display rocks in that way. I have read other blogs talking about this, so i don't think it's weird at all.

When i was a kid i liked to put flour in my yogurt? I remember thinking that it made normal yogurt taste like the expensive yoplait kind. Now even i think this is weird.

VOTE! Today you lazy ass canadians! My mind is stuck on the election. I have little else to say.

I should start by saying that again "I love my mom!" That's what being a blabber pants will get you. Mom's reading blogs. The challenge is to soldier on and keep on keeping it real.

What am i talking about? I dunno *shrugging shoulders* i just want my mom to know that i love her.

So, anyways, the winter and the rain - it's killing me. I want to take pictures of all the flooded fields and homes, but i am worried about wrecking my beautiful camera that i love so much - but haven't paid a dime for yet. Thank-you future shop for your 1 year no-interest grace.

I'm having a hard time. So many lonely days ahead of me and behind me. How do you do it? How do you keep yourself even moderately on this side of depression in the lonely world of parenting young children? How many times can you play hide and seek and play-doh before you want to drive your minivan into on-coming traffic?

Really? I want to know.

Despite the fun and the humour i see around me, some days are just hard. Hard in a way that shakes you. Makes you want to sleep all day and spend the night hiding in front of the computer with some wine. Ignoring all the possible outcomes of this crazy life.

I've been struggling with my feelings about having a child with disabilities. Toby is this wonderful, dynamic, loving little boy. He fills me with so much tender love and giant sadness. I know that he is fine. I also know that everybody always notices my other kids - she's so cute, so smart, so perfect, parker speaks so well, etc. - nobody says anything about toby. It's hard. It's hard for people when they can't understand a word he says and he's so darn active and LOUD. People just don't want to make the uncomfortable effort to know him. I understand, a little.

We actively searched out the school our kids go to. We make huge financial sacrifices to send them there. We send them there for toby. I was so fearful of other children teasing him because that's what kids do. I knew that at this little school i would have more control. I do. He still gets teased.

He's in grade 1 now and the focus of first grade is learning to read. His Apraxia is evolving and making it very difficult for him to learn the simple things like letters, sounds - phonological awareness. It just isn't happening. And he's humiliated. His teacher tells me every day of the tears and frustration. She's amazing and understanding. I just feel my heart swelling. A problem that i can't fix.

This is the hardest thing i've learned as a mom. I can't make everything okay. I can't protect them from all the frustration, anxiety and sadness.

It sucks.

Please, please if you are considering in any remote way of voting conservative - heck if you're voting -please read this on rick mercer's blog.

You americans may have Jon Stewart, but we have Rick Mercer!

Apparently, the all time record for rain falling on consecutive days for the south coast of vancouver island is 40 in 1956. We have had rain EVERY SINGLE DAY for the past 31 days. Since last year! I'm not talking about a little bit of rain. Where i am (in a valley) we have had monsoon like rain all day and all night for weeks. I now have a large creek running through my yard and a pond out back. I think my chickens are thinking of becoming ducks. And really that would be cool because did you know that ducks mate for life? I love things that mate for life. Wolves do. I do.

Seriously though it's really hard to entertain kids inside all. the. time. Oh i know, bundle them up and go out in the rain anyway! Have fun! Get wet! Kids LOVE splashing in the rain! Well, most kids might - not mine. They might splash a bit, but then? Then! The whining. The crying. "I'm wet." "I'm cold." I want to go home!" That's about one minute after i spend twenty minutes getting them "bundled up." Oh! And bundling up? That causes whining too. "I'm uncom-ter-fal!" "I hate rain pants!"

Oh and Parker? He just says "we go outside in the sun too-pour-oh?"

"Oh yeah baby. We go out in the sun too-poor-oh."

So, yesterday i had parker at the doctor to check that he was indeed getting better. He is. Our appointment was after school so i had all four kids with me. Oh don't look at me like that; everybody looks at me like that. It's not crazy, it's just life.

Anyway, while i had them all with me i asked our dr. if i was too late for the flu shot - no!

Our family doctor splits his practice with his wife and they have four kids. I love them because they "get" my life.

"Are you sure you want to do it now?" he asked me.

"Of course i do!"

You see at the mere mention of flu shot toby shot under the exam table and began wailing at the top of his lungs which, in turn, set off tristan and eliza who rolled up in the curtain and cried in terror. I smiled and laughed and parker played oblivious.

"It's going to be like this whenever we get it."

"Okay then!"

Tristan went first and squinched and flinched and when it was done said "hey! that didn't hurt!"

Each child went in turn and confirmed the "hey! it didn't hurt!" sentiments. Then i went and i was expecting it not to hurt because last year it didn't hurt at all. That was how i could be so callous with my kids. But hey! It DID hurt.

Then last night every muscle in my body started to ache and i went to bed at 9:30 and i still hurt today. Even my wrists and ankles hurt. I don't know what THAT's all about. But, apparently i am the one in 100,000 that got the flu from the flu shot.

Story to come.

Kids very happy. Happy kids.

That's what really matters.

I felt bad being away so long and wanted to wish a merry happy merry... i'll be back toporrow (as parker would say..., from his new big boy bed that santa brought him, still not weaned, still the booby man in the big boy bed...)

xxoo

I have an inner dialogue going on that contains lots of cursing. Curses!

Early this morning my dad called and he found my blog. Apparently, he searched for chicken tags in technorati and there i was! The chicken lady. *gulp*

I'm pretty sure he was scared away, and as i compulsively check every link and visitor on this blog, i pretty much know when anybody i know visits. He was, however, very concerned about how much information i let loose. Especially the names and photos of my kids. His concerns are valid. But, i'm just not willing to censor myself in that way. I'm pretty vague about where i live and, heck, for all anybody knows these are all made-up events. Shane and i have discussed this a lot and we decided together on what we felt safe about.

On the other hand, a while back i posted some photos of my kids in the bath on Flickr. Over the course of a weekend i noticed that those photos had WAY more views than any others. It really sickened me. I changed the access on them, but the experience has stuck with me. I even got a few people trying to get me to add them as family on my account so they could get access. That sucks. I could go on about it, but frankly, i don't want to give it my energy. It's not worth it.

So, i am going to continue on as i always have and hope that my family understands.

xxoo

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the totally lame and self-indulgent posts i have been making of late. I am in a tailspin of depression and mania. It's weighing heavy on me and rendering me mentally incapable of spewing forth anything.

After weeks of depression i recently found myself happy. Hello happy! At the same time i am always responsible to my number one task which is to be a good mother. The kind of mom that loves her kids to all ends. Even if those ends are constant self-doubt and loathing. You know the drill: am i good enough? Can i really do this? What the hell kind of role model am i? and why are my children so neurotic? and cute? The cuteness, it's suffocating.

The love which keeps you up at night, blood pressure racing with fear. Fear of the inevitable. Children growing and becoming independent and susceptible to the influence of others.

I'm having an inner conflict about the whole honesty in blogging thing. I am constantly shocked and concerned and disgusted by the kind of google searches that land here. I won't go into details because everybody can guess. All i want is to create an open and honest account of snippets of my life. But, it is so hard to do that when the 1% are so filthy, so beyond reproach. I don't know the answer. Not writing is not it, but perhaps, total honesty isn't either.

I'm sick, i'm sick, i'm sick again! I was just sick last week and now i'm sick again. I secretly think that sweetney made me sick by sending her germs along with the most excellent mixed cd that has ever graced my stereo. I kid you not. Go ask her for one, you'll be happy you did.

Last night i went to bed at 8:00. Today i am crazy busy driving on a field trip and all the other mom-bligations.

I am feeling nostalgic, reminiscent. Partly because of a reconnection to an old friend. Making me think of my life so far. The choices you make, opening and closing doors. Having children takes you on such a mind-blowing life path. A path that i love and adore, yet, i can't help but wonder what would have happened if i'd taken different steps, made different choices.

Shane and i often like to reminisce about the days before kids. How life was so easy, so self-involved. The long breakfasts over newspapers. A bed to ourselves! Time to enjoy each others company. We miss that. Each other.

We look at our friends who chose not to have kids, or didn't, or couldn't and feel jealous and sorry for them at the same time. The focus on the perfect house, life, career. We focus on keeping the chaos to a minimum and hoping that we all have clean underwear in the morning and keeping the kids bathed at least weekly! (Thank you swim lessons for completing that task for me!) Struggling with the monumental grocery bills - comparing how much we spend with other families of the same size. $1000 a month thank-you very much.

Also, the rain. Torrential rain for days, weeks on end. Moving 30 kilometers and enormous changes in weather. We didn't plan for that. But, the rain reminds me of Vancouver; my childhood and youth there. The rain comforts me that way. Makes me feel like i'm back home.

That and halloween costumes covered with raincoats.

Happy trick or treatin!

My mood is so crazy lately. Up, down, UP, DOWN, down, up. Now, before you say anything yes, i have tried medications. Hate them! With a passion.

Right now i am like matte paint, dull and lacklustre and easily stained. The energy i had last week to be the super-parent has been drained. Now, i dread another puppet show or day of finger-painting. Part of the problem is sex - or lack there of. More appropriately intimacy. We have been so wrapped up in the business of our lives and the whirlwind of kids and playdates and pottery, choir, swimming, ballet, piano, skating, music class - phew! that we have lost sight of each other; shane and i. We are, literally, strangers in the night. Not helping matters is the season of the cold and flu - me then him then me (with a cold sore too - woohoo).

I think i forget how much i need that intimacy, long nights of chatter and catching up. Getting in synch with each other. Calming the up downs. Calming ME down.

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

In the meantime COMMENTS - please.

I have been remiss in posting as of late. Sorry about that. I will return to my normal schedule tomorrow.

I was getting a lot of google hits for "drowning your kids" because of that tragedy in California and it was too depressing for me. I am tender-hearted like my children and these things affect me deeply. I needed to distance myself.

See you later alligator.