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.

tell me does this mean you're moving on

this morning i sat outside a coffee shop across the street from my house, the burnt house (that's what we call it to differentiate from "new rental" and "old rental"), i watched as all the trucks rolled in for another day of work. stripping the house down to it's bones. before the floor was put back on over the new foundation we found a cat skeleton. all fangs and ominousness.

from the balcony you call my name

i was sitting with my ex-husband, feeling distracted from conversation by the sounds of power tools and wood ripping free of nails. thinking about the strange irony i felt talking about divorce papers in the midst of my stalled future home.

i get the strangest looks from that bitchy crowd

i saw a lawyer the other day to go over a separation agreement i stupidly signed two years ago without getting legal advice. it's not that i am unhappy with how we divided our assets, i just felt that i needed someone to tell me what my gut already knew. knew that divorce, even in the best of circumstances, is a messy thing. no matter how we form the words into legal jargon, someone is going to get hurt. someone is going to feel taken advantage of, but, it needs to be done. we need to wrap it all up into a tidy manila envelope that we file away amongst mortgages and wills.

does this mean you're moving on

there comes a time, a morning you wake up and know it is time to move on. time to let go of all that love and anger. tuck all those memories of a life lived into your heart, somewhere safe and warm. somewhere you can let all the good parts trickle into memory and the bad things fade away.

*thank you Airborne Toxic Event for the music that has filled my heart these past few months.

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.

The kids and i planted our first seeds in the vegetable garden yesterday. The weather has made an almost alarming turn to heat. Hot, hot, heat. The kids have been rallying me for the first swim in the lake which i will probably attempt tomorrow after school.

I have been thinking about patterns in relationships. How the pattern, in my experience is more like a spiral. Starting at one perfect point and then slowly, unevenly, rotates outward from that. Usually, you kind of see that you're off kilter as you get towards the outside of the spiral and head back towards the center.

I think that my pattern of behaviour has been to jump ship. Abandon the sinking boat.

I've been wondering why i do that. The counselor would have said that it is all to do with something, some loss from childhood. A fear of being abandoned myself.

I'm not sure what it means to figure this out. I'm just trying to figure it out. It's been such a hard couple of years. I feel like so much time has been lost. So many possibilities destroyed. I just want to move forward understanding the backwards.

Shane has been working hard recording an album of songs he's written about our journey over the past two and a half years.

He has two songs available for download right here.

I would love everybody to go and have a listen because they are really great songs, he's very talented and everybody needs a little encouragement.

"Nothing splendid has ever been achieved except by those who dared believe that something inside of them was superior to circumstance." Bruce Barton Thanks SueBob

I am in love. I am in love and i feel like the luckiest woman in the world. My husband forgave me for a mistake i made. The worst possible mistake one spouse can do to another.

Not only did he forgive me, but i forgave myself. Marriage is a choice. It's a partnership. It's love and longing and desire. For us, it's also living with my depression and mania. It's despair and grief, anger and betrayal. I wish i could say i will never fall into depression again, but given my history i probably will.

I will not let it spiral into ruin again. I will seek help when i need it. I have a whole army of people to help me now. I also have perspective inwardly in a way i never have in my life. Seeing it all fall apart and come back together again. Seeing, truly seeing, the love that i almost lost forever has blown my psyche wide open. I wasn't a victim of circumstances, i was a victim of the horrible voices in my head and heart. I know that little devil in my head now and i hate her.

The thing about depression and manic episodes is that when you are in the middle of them they are like a drug. Though you hate them you just can't picture yourself without them. You begin to identify as "that depressed girl." And now that i am not her, i don't like her. I will do everything i can to keep her away and if she knocks i am going to get help answering that door.

I never want to lose the love of my life again.

I had a dream last night that my teeth were falling out and i was worried about how long it would take for my grown up teeth to come in, how i would wait tables with a toothless grin.

I am continuing to work an awful lot. The restaurant is fully booked every night. It's exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating and fun. I had one table make a complaint the other night. It was disappointing because i knew it was going shitty from the moment they sat down and there was no effort on my part that could change that. It just kept getting worse and the women at the table really didn't like me.

The thing is i don't understand people making written complaints instead of just asking for what they need at the time. They'd rather jeopardize a persons employment. Sometimes, sure, it's just really bad service - perhaps then - but, really, aren't we all human? Deserve a second chance? It's the caretaker in me. I want to make everybody i take care of happy and have the best experience possible. When things start going south i am filled with anxiety. I just want to make it all better.

Being married again. Being married again has been wonderful. Wonderful, difficult, passionate, comforting. All the things you would expect. We made an offer on a new home the other day and are waiting to hear back. We are busy packing up two houses, getting one ready to put on the market, all while both working full time, taking care of the kids and trying to carve out time to reconnect and talk.

What might seem like a stressful set of circumstances has been lovely. A chance to work together as a team to build something new. A fresh start. A new home. A family.

I remember the first time i ever saw shane. I was walking through my college campus and i saw him standing on top of a picnic table reciting a poem in front of a small group of students. I don't think i stopped, but i remember having one of those feelings. A feeling that this person was going to be a part of my life. We started dating shortly after that.

That was seventeen years ago in september.

Coming back together after nearly a year has been, in some ways, like starting again. In other ways it feels like that block of time never happened. Like we were always meant to be together, all the crappy circumstances that caused that break, have brought us back together stronger.

In counseling the other day our therapist said we needed to see our future as walking together hand in hand. Supporting and being together as equals.

In the last five years of our marriage we fell into this trap of stereotypes. I think it can be very difficult not to when you have the stay-at-home mom/dad as provider scenario. I felt unvalued and small. When my long depression set in i got lonelier and angrier. I lost perspective on my life, my family, my marriage. Now that i have carved out an independent life for myself i feel stronger than i ever have. I am coming back into marriage as a whole person.

A person who is happy to walk alongside.

Over the past month my perspective on myself and my place in the world has changed. Not a subtle change, drastic.

Almost three years ago a depression began to creep it's way into my life. It was a slow spiral downwards that caught speed as it narrowed and left me in crisis one year ago. This year i spent in survival mode. Getting through each day. I thought i was doing well. I was doing well, but i wasn't seeing the world. I wasn't seeing the path of destruction that i left discarded behind me.

This past month i stopped and turned around. I opened my field of vision. I let everything in, the good, the bad and the ugly. I let the anger i've been carrying drop to the sides a little.

I have been blaming everyone for all my problems when, truth be told, i brought them all on myself. I looked at my husband and told him how truly sorry i am. I saw him clearly for the first time in almost a year as the man i married, the man i loved. I saw the hurt that has been tearing him apart. I saw his perfect heart, the heart i lost and i wanted it back.

I asked for it back and he gave it to me.

Yesterday we celebrated Eliza's seventh bithday. As a family. We had all her favourite foods and gave her a new 'very big girl' bike with gears and hand brakes. It was a very nice evening.

And then shane went home. Our two homes. That's what is happening.

These have been difficult times.

I am struggling with how much to share here and how to do that in a way that respects the process i am going through. Shane and i have been talking a lot about the mistakes we have both made, the things we would like to change and how a marriage would look if we made it what we wanted.

We are not rushing into anything. We are still separate. Living in our own homes. Splitting custody. Even continuing with some of the dividing of assets. We are not being foolish. We are being honest. Honest with the children. Trying our best to protect them from expectations. I think it is healthy for them to see that we are working on things. Not rushing.

Rushing is something that we have done too many times in our lives. Rushing into marriage and family. Rushing out of marriage.

This time we have nothing left to lose. And everything. The last thing we need is to go through all this again. Our hearts are already weak.

I have begun a journey that is honest. Exciting and scary. Sad and difficult.

We are trying to negotiate a new life. Together. A family.

It will take time.

And you sit here in your freezing house because you ran out of oil and the wood stove only heats one room and is so much work to keep going and the kids are miserable and cold as are you sleeping fully clothed, shivering, not remembering the last time you were warm and the kids ask "why can't we all just live together?" and you cry quietly in the bathroom for all you have lost and the poverty that has crept in to your life and another night of pasta for dinner and the endless oddjobs that you do just to make ends meet when they really aren't meeting at all and your husband, cause we are not divorced yet, sits in your house with your name on the mortgage papers entertaining girlfriends in your dream home in your fancy bed that you bought together because of the painful sciatica you had in the 2nd, 3rd and 4th pregnancies, the bed where you conceived children, the sheets you bought, the blankets your grandmother knitted, the house you made a home, the chicken coop left barren and empty, the yard you tried to beg into submission all left unattended and you brought this all on yourself as you sit lonely and stewing as you sent him away with best wishes and intentions just a few days ago to pursue his life and you think this really sucks.

rant off

The final guest post, by my husband, in poetry

sept 17th, 2007

you told me the day
i began losing you
was when our youngest son was born

sept 17th, 2003, today

i don't remember it, you said
i read the paper, went to work later that day &

your heart started the s l o w
unconscious process of
leaving

i understand how it happens
the little hard things we do to each other
(i'm thoughtful, in that way)

i can see it now, in reverse
the sequence of events that lead to
the inevitable
wreckage

the tragic, untimely
death
of us

& all so unnecessary, so much harder
than the birth

as if since we've run a degree out of parallel, ever so slightly
off course, uncharted, away;hearts
split, so
gradually, you don't notice, until the two
are this

apart,

that it seems improbable to find the way
back again

~shane

Life it still goes on. The reality of single parenting is setting in. The craziness, the busy days, the lonely nights. The sadness.

The confusion.

Shane goes from one mood to another from morning to night. One evening he tells me it's over. We drink a bottle of wine and make toasts to the end of a marriage. The end of a life together.

I spend the next day immensely sad. Grieving the loss of a life i could have had. Feeling the slightest bit relieved. Finally a decision.

Then the next night he wants to work it out. Promising a wonderful life together. Together as a family.

I am torn. Hurt. Confused. Asked to make a decision that is impossible. How can you make that kind of choice. The burden of never knowing if the choice was the right one. Knowing that that decision will change the life paths of my four children, my husband and myself.

Knowing how hard it is to change. Knowing that people very rarely change.

Life it goes on. It really does.

When you are a parent, a mother, you have to march on. Keep on being the best mother you can be. Remember that your problems are not your childrens. They just need to be loved. Loved without question and despite circumstances.

I am loving my children. More than ever. We are enjoying all of our moments together. I have slowed right down. Living in each moment with them. Truly revelling in these little wonders i have created. Celebrating being their mother, having children who show me that life is good. That together we can be happy, we can do anything.

Being alone is hard. All the thinking. All the questions. What do i really want. Who am i. How did i get to this point. Is this what i want.

I am working through the weekend. The kids are with their father. I am centered. My brain is functioning at a perfect balance of happy/sad. Thoughtful. Not manic.

Before we go any further i need to tell you. I need to tell you that any blame or fault should be placed on me. The failure of the marriage was my fault. Is my fault. I saw it coming and didn't try to stop it.

My husband is an excellent man. He has his faults. We all do. We just lost each other in the crazy shuffle.

I appreciate, very much, all the kind words and support. I am not here for pity. I never have been and , honestly, i don't want it. I want a place where i can talk about my life. It has been a struggle to maintain this site as that. As family and friends have begun to find it i have felt inwardly and outwardly judged. Feeling the need to hide some things.

I'm not going to do that anymore.

I am going to ask you that if you are related to me by blood or marriage i would like you not to read anymore.

The kids are doing well. Well as can be expected. We are living in a condo on the lake. It is beautiful and peaceful and fun. All the things they need right now to process their feelings and emotions.

Parker, toby and eliza are reacting in a purely emotive way. Mood swings and neediness. We are taking everything moment by moment and small conversations.

Tristan is having a harder time. More sad. Real understanding. She is sleeping with me and we are having long conversations, pillow to pillow.

It will take time, but i will make everything okay.

Well. Hello.

Ahem.

Things are fine. Maybe even good.

My psychiatrist told me that he couldn't help me and that drugs probably couldn't help me. They couldn't help me until i helped myself. Until i made changes in my life. Drugs aren't going to make negative things positive. Drugs aren't going to make your husband bring in the garbage.

And so, perhaps, like all other things we have to go to the bottom. Have that big blowout before things can get better. Or you even want to make things better. You have to see what you are risking. What you are losing before you realize how very much you want that thing. You need that thing.

And so we have talked. A little. We have kissed and made up. We love each other. And he knows, and i know, having been through all of this before, how difficult this can be.

I understand i am hard to love. I am stubborn. I am moody. I have high expectations.

And so does he. And so is he.

And so are we. We are determined to make this work. To love and be loved. To love our kids. To send them out in the world as prepared as possible. To not believe that everything just works out. Anything worth anything is worth working on.

And, crap, these are tiring days. This is the busy time. This is the endless time.

This is the time to move forward. To get better.

This weekend is our twelve year wedding anniversary. Our children will soon be 10, 8, 6 and 31/2. Time really does fly.

I am lucky to have married a wonderful man who has walked with me step by step through pregnancy, birth, depression, anxiety and, most importantly, joy. We have come to realize that all those expectations we had as children and starry-eyed newlyweds are impossible.

As parents and partners we are still only people. No matter how much we try to be perfect parents and spouses life is a long and winding road. There is no such thing as perfection.

We do the best we can. If, at the end of the day, we have love everything else will follow. I feel very lucky to be loved.

Here he is again. To offend, inspire and be the best darn husband anybody ever deserved. Shane's Guest Post #2. Rules: jess may not touch or edit.

Jess is feeling burned out with daily blogging and working on her book, so I've been recruited to do a guest post.

I don't read her blog that often because I don't want her to feel like she needs to censor anything. Writing honestly is hard enough without me chirping in with "what did you mean by that" kind of comments. But I do secretly look periodically to make sure she's doing okay.

I noticed that she'd written that it's been 16 years since we started dating and it got me thinking about when we first started dating. We met in creative writing class at Capilano College. I was a young wanna-be poet. I was awful. And truthfully, my writing couldn't have been what she liked about me.

Especially since Jess was the best writer in our class. She just wrote in a truthful, wonderfully vulnerable, but snappy way.

In University she wrote a book of poetry. I'm currently holding the only remaining copy. I read it a few weeks ago for the first time in a decade and it reminded me of that time of our life.

I want to share with you one poem from it. To preface this, it's important to note that I hate poetry. I never read it anymore, and inwardly cringe when I think about it. But her's are so good, so that's why I want to share it with you. I picked this one because it is about the day just before we got together. I thought you might like it.

Remembrance day

On remembrance day
i chased you
through the grassy trail
of your old school
showing me
something
remembering
kissing games
in the soggy woods
when i caught you
our breaths wet & heavy
in the air
i wanted to kiss you but
walking back to the cement
it was easier

I was thinking that she should reissue this little poetry book for her blog readers. I think it would be a nice insight into what she was like as a younger women. I'm sure she'll be horribly embarrassed by it. But if you are interested, why don't you leave a comment and ask her to send you a copy. If enough people request it, I'll bet we can guilt her into doing it.

p.s. if Jess gets more than 15 requests, she's agreed to release it. So comment, god dammit!

shane
xxoo

Sixteen years ago today shane and i kissed for the very first time.

I would say it seems like yesterday, but it doesn't. It feels like a lifetime ago.

His kisses still make me feel the same way.

I love him

Sometime over the winter shane made a guest post that was all about my boobs. I can tell you that several people found it offensive. My bloglines subscriptions dropped by 1/4. It was also my most popular post ever in terms of comments.

His obsession with my post-lactating breasts has neither waxed nor waned. Last night he was trying to coax me out of my bra. I have taken off my bra for him once. The jostling and jiggling that followed lowered my self-esteem enough that i have not removed it again since.

In the middle of our giggling wrestle we both noticed something.

him: "you're kind of struggling to breathe, are you okay?"

me: (feeling like he's sitting on my chest) "yes, yes, i'm okay."

him: "oh my god! you're having a panic attack aren't you! You're having a panic attack cause i want to see your boobs!"

I think i'm about done with the instant messaging blogher wrap, but i'm not done with my endless ruminations because that is what i do. Think and think till it kills me.

I'm still trying to decompress and deal with the assault of emotion i felt this past weekend. As a note to husbands coming home to a messy house and seven loads of laundry and grumpy kids is a little overwhelming.

Anyway, After a very bumpy start where i literally walked through the hotel crying, pulling my sunglasses over my eyes, to meeting several amazing women and all the others i've talked about already and the ones i haven't, it has left me bereft of tears.

Tomorrow, for some unknown reason, i am off to vancouver to see my family who wish that blogging didn't exist.

In the meantime please picture me crying in san jose listening to this song that shane left on my computer for me to listen to while on my trip (he wrote it.) Oh my god i love my husband.

I take it all back. My husband is driving me crazy. He's moody, grumpy, snappy and come to think of it, he looks a little bloated.

Shane is grumpy because we haven't had enough "time alone," why he thinks that being grumpy is going to help is a complete mystery to me.

As are men.

Shane is away. He's away and i'm really enjoying it. We had and easy dinner, a frolic in the woods and the requisite giant slumber party in my room.

As i was laying there waiting for parker to go to sleep i was struck by the little moments. Tristan was reading her archie comic busting a gut. That girl has the strangest sense of humour. I frequently hear her cracking up in her bedroom to books. In a way i think it's her letting us know that she's up there awake. A little jubilant "hi!" from the eight year old girl.

Toby and parker were both lost in their own little dream worlds. Parker was singing something along the lines of:

twinkle twinkle little truck
abcdefg
all us travellers in the night
itsy bitsy dumptruck
now i know my abc's
thank you for your tiny light.

Toby was squeeking away in a high pitched whisper yell about "cougars in the box...(something, something)" followed by a raucous "in the hole little mouse...(something, something.)"

Eliza was asleep. She was suffering from post-birthday stress all day. Twirling her new gold chain with a heart pendant non-chalantly in front of everyone. Hoping for it to be noticed. She fell asleep before she could finish "Toby and parker are keeping me....(up)"

How wonderful. How lucky i feel during those moments and not just because i know that they are almost asleep.

Shane and i have both been overwhelmingly busy with our own things. We are getting along fine, really well actually. We are just not connecting in that way, the way that husbands and wives sometimes do. Some of them even get to do it in bed i hear. For us long term family bedders the pizzazz of the bathroom counter or rug burn inducing playroom floor has long lost it's sparkle and a good old bed in the missionary position sounds almost kinky.

*ahem*

What i meant to say was that we have no time together. Yet we sit side by side on the sofa at night laptops in, well, our laps and television on. Frankly it's boring and i welcome this little change to my routine. Except that all my favourite shows (sopranos, big love and huff) are not on this week because of memorial day. Stupid memorial day.

Do you remember that episode of the sopranos where tony tells his therapist "sometimes what we do in here is like taking a shit"?

I've been thinking about that episode recently. Wishing that i could have that kind of purge. That feeling of letting it all go.

I guess that sometimes wishes do come true for i have experienced the full body purge. Luckily i was the only one in the house who got sick. But oh how sick i got, made worse by the fact that i started the getting sick with the first round of stomach yucks on friday night only to have it return on tuesday night. In the middle of tuesday night while pleading with shane to "call an ambulance because i'm dying!" i was simultaneously amazed and horrified with the amount of crap, literally and figuratively, one body can hold inside of it. Yet here i am, slightly achy and nauseous, but all better! And! If even momentarily, i lost the five pounds i gained after weaning parker. It won't last though because i am not one of those people that doesn't eat when they are sick. In between bathroom visits i was thinking about the food i was going to eat when i was all better. I love food.

Shane stayed home from work (until 2:30) wednesday as i had been keeping him up all night with my barfing and explosiveness. I was struck throughout the morning by the differences in our parenting. Now, to say he was staying home is a bit misleading. He was actually working at home and letting parker and eliza fend for themselves. As i laid in bed doubled over with stomach cramps i listened to parker and eliza playing outside in the sandbox while shane talked (on and on) on the telephone oblivious to their safety. I would have been angry had i had the strength instead i filed away a mental note making sure not to leave him alone with the kids on a workday.

When i finally came downstairs this morning the house was such an unbelievable disaster. Shane was all googly eyes, "you're feeling better? you sure are pretty."

"Yes, i'm feeling better, but you are definitely not getting lucky anytime soon."

"What? I take care of you and the kids? And now you hate me?"

"Yes i hate you, but thanks for taking care of me."

Just to clarify. I am not destitute. That is definitely not the image i am trying to portray. We live paycheque to paycheque. We are often broke, or run out of money before payday. Mostly because we have extra healthcare expenses that most families don't have to deal with. But, i live in a wonderful house on a beautiful piece of property on one of the most gorgeous islands anywhere. My children are happy, clothed and fed. We live a life full of adventure and fun and laughs and tears. I really couldn't ask for more and feel so very fortunate when i think about all the financial and political hardships facing people all over the world. I also feel lucky to have this place to talk about the small problems, and i know they are small, that challenge me every day. I do believe that "every road is a hard road" at times.

That being said i have been considering going back to work. It would mean giving up some things. Like being president of my kids school which has been one of the most fulfilling things i have ever done. Being president has also given me the opportunity to be invited to a Black Tie Gala this weekend as the guest of a local millionaire. Another opportunity to wear my fancy high heels i bought at christmas. But, i digress. I have been thinking of going back to work. It's just a thought right now because the hurdles of childcare and keeping my allergic eliza safe have seemed insurmountable. I am working the plan though.

With every child you have these decisions become so much more complicated. My children, obviously, are very opposed to the idea. Tristan says "but you're already a junior writer!" Part of me wants to work for the escape and part of me wants to be accepted by the world outside of this as something more than a mom, something with value. Something like blogshares where i can go and see my value in concrete numbers. I make this much money which makes me worth this much in comparison with others. Always the need to compare. Also, i went to university. I had a plan. I didn't figure into that plan how much i would love and need to be near my kids and how much they would love and need me.

Anyway. I have a plan. I will unfold the details right before your eyes.

Last night shane and i had a pretty big fight. Well, big for us, there was no yelling, only a little bit of crying and he stormed off to bed in a huff.

Huffs are his thing.

Once when we were dating we were in a pub in a less than desirable location in vancouver, apparently i said something that offended him and when i got up to go to the bathroom he stormed out in a huff and took the bus back home to his parents house. Loser.

Anyway, the basic argument was that i am tired of being the man and the woman in this house. Not only do i need to guide all these decisions on our childrens health and schooling, be their mom day in and day out, i also do every single other chore living as a family in a house requires. I do the cleaning, laundry, cooking, shopping for food and clothes for everybody, arrange for things to be fixed, handle the money, mow the lawn, take out the garbage and recycling, do all the yardwork, start the bonfires for yard waste, take care of the chickens, on and on it goes.

He thinks that this is completely reasonable. He takes care of bringing home the money.

He works very hard, don't get me wrong on that. I just can't take it anymore. I go through this pretty regularly. Feeling mad and taken advantage of. Then it passes. We have a nice time together. That's the thing; we really love each other. So, it's hard for us to argue.

Plus we are both stubborn as hell.

It's my fault though. I know that. As the years have gone by i've assumed more and more of the burden of running the house. Just let him slide by. He thinks he does plenty. Thinks my expectations are not reasonable. I think it's not reasonable that while i am running around cleaning and doing laundry he is laying on the couch reading.

What do your partners do? Are they keeping up their end of the responsibilities?

What a day. What a week.

Tristan went back to school today. One down. Toby, parker and eliza are all still sick. That makes one full week, since last monday, that i've had sick kids. It changes your reality, these sick kids. I've found it challenging, to say the least, to continue writing in these past eight days.

And so. And so i welcomed shane's input last night. And so it was a departure from what i would normally say, from what lines i would normally cross. When he sat down at the computer i watched him from the couch (chesterfield) and wondered what he would say about me. I hoped he would wax poetic about his love for me. How i am perfect. Everything he ever dreamed of.

But, i am not perfect. I am full of holes in logic, perception and reality. The thing is. The thing is he knows all that. He knows exactly who i am. And that...THAT...is exactly what makes love happen. Sure, i found his description of me a little tactless, a little base. But, in the heat of the moment there is no tact, no grace...just panties and bras in the way of what we really desire. And what we desire, in my house, is close personal contact - skin on skin - and i love him for all his honesty and abruptness about that.

Because when it comes down to it, the reason we are a team, is because of this strong bond that we have - emotionally and physically. Saggy boobs, beer bellies and all.

And yes, we introduced wine and beer back in to our household on sunday night. And thank you to everybody that commented to shane, and all the dads, and all the people i have never heard from before. It has been an exhilarating day of phone calls home to office; "sixteen comments! i am totally winning!"

And thank-you for not quite letting him win. And i won't let him guest blog again for, at least, awhile. Lest it get to his head.

Shane has volunteered to write a post tonight, under one circumstance; i can't edit it. He also said he could get more comments than i've ever had. So, here he is:

-----------------------------

Hi. Shane, here. Guest blogger...

Blog readers, I need your help. (Myrna/Ian - stop reading. I'm going to talk about s-e-x and I don't want awkward looks at Xmas dinner from you.)

Jess and I have had 4 children, as you know. Before that, we had a mad, passionate love affair where virtually nothing was off limits. She's my true love, one and only. And I love her a lot. We'll be together until we die. But over the past 8+ years, since we started having children, there's one area that has been off limits to me... her tits.

With breast-feeding successive babies, she's (understandably) been uncomfortable with whipping out the ladies during our love making. And truthfully, I had no interest in getting lactated on. So it was mutual.

But Parker is now weaned and just recently she actually took off her bra during s-e-x. It was the first time I could remember her being completed nude and it was great. I didn't really know what to do. What's the protocol after eight years?

I massaged them a bit and tried to be attentive without it being creepy and desperate. I think I did okay. But how can I really know? It hasn't happen again since then. And I feel a bit like I had my one shot and how I responded will dictate my future forever more.

But I really want more. I've never really thought of myself as a tit man. I mean I love her tits, but I've always gravitated to her fantastic ass. But since the tit-famine started after Tristan was born, I've started to rethink my position. I'm now into her tits.

You can help. And here is how: Comment on this blog. Tell Jess how it is important to give her man access to her full package. Let her know you support my access to her wonderful breasts. Speak up and let her know that post-breast feeding woman are fuckin' sexy, awesome chicks. And that she should show off just how hot she is to her devoted husband.

I really appreciate your help.

Sincerely,
Shane

So, i re-read my post tonight that caused some people to believe that i am a horrible mother, not deserving the beauty that surrounds me. Perhaps, they have a point. The problem with feeling sorry for yourself or overwhelmed or depressed is that you lose perspective. The ability to see the beauty in every day. Isn't that the point though? Isn't that what being sad is about? Not seeing the good things, only the shit. Isn't that why it's hard to be a mother sometimes - nobody is around to tell you that everything is okay. That the job we are doing is the best job we can and sometimes? Sometimes it's okay to feel like crap. To feel like it's hard.

Because it is hard. It's hard for me and i think i should be able to say that. Able to admit that sometimes it all sucks and i just don't want to do it anymore.

It doesn't mean that i won't. Being a mother? It means getting up every morning and taking care of your children, your house, your work. Taking care of everyone but you. Most of the time just living the life is enough. The precious moments keep you going and loving your children, poopy pants and all.

We are in the middle of a financial crisis. To me this is a road that most of us navigate regularly. Particularly if you stay at home with your children. For my family it has been the best decision for me to stay at home. We have had ups and downs over the years in terms of our financial stability. Shane is self-employed which has added another dimension of stress because we never really know what the future will hold. He used to work, primarily, as a graphic designer. He did well and had a natural talent. Money came in regularly. At some point he realized that his business was making him miserable and he made a career move. Started a new career in the midst of babies and more babies and a move out of the city.

Things have been slower out of the gate than either of us anticipated. On top of that our children are growing and have new and expanding financial needs. At some point when you spend just a little bit more than you make an explosion will occur. That explosion will crack the foundation of your family life. Decisions will have to be made.

We are in the midst of making those decisions.

But, we stayed up late last night and talked and cried, well i cried, and a lot of stress was lifted. We didn't make any decisions but we both came back to the same page. It feels good. And i feel much better now.

For now i'm not going to add ad's to my site or a donate button. I would just feel funny about it. I like doing this. Actually, i love doing this. Exercising my fingers and my brain every day. Making friends. Learning things about being a mother, being a woman, being a friend.

So. Thank you to all of my friends. The links in my blogroll barely scratch the surface. I'm going to work on that. A beat down of my mostly anonymous nasty letter writers is not needed at this time, but it's nice to know you've got my back! The post is back up and frankly i don't think it's all that exciting, but it's down below somewhere.

Have a good weekend.
xxoo

So, my sister-in-law has been visiting over the weekend. She is expecting her first baby in july. She and i stayed up late saturday night and last night talking all things baby.

I tried really hard to remember how it was for me the first time around. How terrified, yet blissfully happy i was those first few days home from the hospital. How that baby is so damn small and i was always scared of dropping her. How they poop all the time.

Now i'm all worried that i told her too many times how hard it is. Breastfeeding is hard. It's hard to see the messy state of your body after birth. It's hard when you stare into your beautiful babies face and realize that there is nothing you can do to make sure they are safe all the time.

But man she looks so beautiful. I made sure i told her that because (1) she does and (2) nobody can hear that too much.

I told her she should never ask me about sleep problems because i have managed to raise four of the worst sleepers ever. I am completely unqualified in all areas of sleep except, perhaps, how to survive on very little sleep. And lately; how to demand that your sleep bank be re-paid.

I have a breastfeeding category for archiving my posts into. I thought that once i weaned parker i wouldn't add anything else to it. But oh! i was wrong. Because now i can worry and obsess about what breastfeeding for those many, long years has done to me.

The other day though i realized it's not that bad. Yet. I figure the worst is still yet to come.

But enough about me!

Shane has been eagerly awaiting the day when the ratty, threadbare nursing bra would come off. I know some women are okay with their partners having access to the boobies while lactation is happening. Not me! Poor shane, cry me a river, has waited since 1996 to see them again. I never really warned him way back then that he had better say his goodbye's so he felt a little ripped off. He never got to cop a last feel. (Not that he didn't try.)

That has been the second part of the problem that has been causing me some anxiety and kept me robed at all times in, at least, a bra. The last time he saw felt full frontal i was 26. I was 26 and i had never had any children. I was 26 and thin and perky and small nippled.

How can i compete with my 26 year old self?

So, the other night whilst laying down together i lifted up my bra and gave him access. For a brief moment. I tell you he smiled like a fifteen year old after a drive-by flashing.

Then it occurred to me. He doesn't care what they look like. He's waited so long they could be deflated watermelons after a draught and he'd still be happy. He just wants them back.

So it was the academy awards tonight. Blah, blah, blah. Am i the only person in north america who doesn't give a rat's ass?

I love movies. I hate actors. I do, however, love Jon Stewart. But, the actors? What the hell is up with the women and the lips and the lack of hips and the zero personality?

Actually, i missed most of the actual show and i'm sitting drinking a beer and watching some live broadcast after-thing. And do you know who i've seen? Lindsay Lohan, Suzanne Somers, Dolly parton (the lips!), John Travolta and Meadow from the Sopranos. What the hell am i watching?

I hate these people.

Earlier shane and i went to see Brokeback Mountain. So good. So sad. So good. Way better than The Constant Gardener in my mind.

Then we had 45 minutes left in grandma/grandpa time so we went to the pub for nachos and a beer and caught 30 minutes of Academy Awards on the big screen tv while hockey played at the exact same volume on the other 32 small screens in the bar. I'm not sure, but i think Glenn Close and lily Tomlin had a brawl resulting in a penalty. Or else there was a very small hockey team playing in a barbie dollhouse with Lily Tomlin in rainbow knee socks.

Tonight while shane was sitting on the couch and i was kneeling in front of him i was thinking about you!

Actually, it started earlier today when i was driving home from costco ($409 spent thank-you very much) i was feeling a little anxious about money and the money i had just spent. I have a few cd's that i listen to in the car since my iPod was stolen. Usually i'm not in the car long enough to get through any of them. But, since costco is 30 minutes each way i listened to most of this particular mix and at the end was one of, actually probably my most favourite song ever, rebound (acoustic version) by sebadoh. I know the majority of you will have no idea what that song is and that is really not the point.

The point i was pondering was how favourite songs speak volumes about a person when you really listen to them.

The first time i heard rebound was when i working at the radio station at UVic. I was at the tail end of my own personal hell which was a double major (my chronic overachieverness here) in english honours and women's studies. I loved english. Every single book. Even chaucer. Women's studies, however, took me on a wild ride that was a little like a martini - one part insecurity, one part lesbians, one part post modern theory with a dash of patriarchy, shaken - i felt so confused. So unsure of where i was in the world and how the hell i was going to figure it all out.

Anyway, a boy who in retrospect would be on my freebie list, scott w. gray, asked me to come listen to the song in one of the mixing booths. I broke down in tears halfway through the song because it spoke such volumes to me. It still does.

So, what's your favourite song? Why?

In the spirit of love and patience i granted shane a valentine re-do. Tonight.

Oh how you guys crack me up! Flashing of the boobies! I am the woman who has just finished nursing for nine years! He hasn't seen those things since 1997. I have been wearing a bra 24 hours a day for nearly a decade.

Clean the toilet with his toothbrush! Ha, but gross. However, every morning when parker gets in the shower with me he wants to use my toothbrush to scrub the walls - i give him shane's.

No sex - done! To quote my friend jenijen four kids + two adults = zero peace. I do however KNOW that she is still getting lucky regularly.

Earlier today parker, eliza and i went to have coffee with shaniekins and he is feeling bad. I didn't display my disappointment at all. He just knew. I told him a $2 bunch of tulips would have been enough. He's talking about a weekend away - just the two of us!

I guess, in the end, i didn't need to do anything. I know he loves me, he writes songs about it. I am a wimpy romantic at heart and i married a lame as workaholic. But. But! I still love him.

Another contest!! Prizes, love and goodness from drowninginkids.

In honor of irene's awesome suggestion for revenging my husbands total assiness when it comes to celebrating me. I am taking your thoughts, suggestions and devious plans on how best to take out my revenge on shane.

Yeah! Bring it on! I'll pick a winner tonight and carry out the suggestion tomorrow!

My husband is the lamest, most unromantic man in the world. After reading all your posts about the lavish displays of affection bestowed on you by your perfect spouses i started to get my hopes up that maybe shane would come through. After all i bought him these:

He came through with NOTHING!

I should have known. It's not that i really care, or expected more. But really, nothing?

Last night he offered up a massage and nothing!

Parker wouldn't let me watch tv for more than a few minutes in between his wakeups so i gave up around 11:00pm and went to bed.

I spent the night kicking shane every time he snored, taking out a little of my frustration. Today, i will think up some devious payback scheme because that's what i do: seek revenge.

We are sure interested in my wrinkles. Really, i'm not actually that wrinkled. I look 35. It's hard coming to terms with that. I feel the same as i did that day i fell in love with shane. I was 20. He was 18.

If i am going to be honest here i should tell you that as i type this i am listening to his latest song "you love me" and what could be more cool than that. If i am to be honest, which i will, because that is who i am; honest or nothing. That is what you get. We have not been getting along very well. We just are not connecting. Shane leaves early in the morning and comes home around 8:00 bedtime, there's not much in between. Plus, you know, cold sores and zits and menstruation.

"because i love you and you love me and, oh god, it will be easier someday because i love you and we've got so many things to lose it breaks my heart to think about those things and you love me and i love you and you love me"

How could i not love that.

Funny how this one little thing left as a late night gift on my computer can change everything.

I am off to vancouver for operation booby drop part 2,987,321. If all goes well i will be back on sunday with a booby-free parker. If all goes according to how my heart is feeling i will take parker with me.

You can still find shane on MySpace and GarageBand as "closer to four"

It's funny how accomplishing something small can make you feel so darn happy. The standards i set for myself are pretty low now. Today! I washed and made all six beds in the house. All in the same day. Amazing. Normally the cycle of laundry never really finishes as i always end up going to bed with a load still in the wash and another in the dryer.

Really, my life is taken over with un-bloggingly boring school stuff.

Back to my point. The thing that pisses me off the most in my life as a mother right now is the incredible lack of respect. Not by the world in general because that is always there and there is shit all i can do about that. I'm pissed off at shane. When i am sick or depressed or just in a rut - there is no relief (other than hours of sesame street) - i just soldier on. Do what i have to do.

My husband, and i assume others, feels entitled to wallow in whatever despair hits him. Screw everyone else he is bummed out and needs to ignore the rest of us. I know, i should stand up for myself. I've tried that. You know who suffers? The kids. They get the grumpy-ass, impatient, yelling dad. I won't do that.

So, an essay in photos of what he did today:

At 3:00 he came home, proclaimed himself depressed and flaked out on the couch.

So, I made all the beds:

Note the ELMO bed that santa brought parker. Everybody but parker sleeps in that bed.

Then i raced around playing with the kids, feeding the chickens - the usual. And began making dinner:

In between i played on the computer a bit:

While i did that he snuck off the couch and ate the first piece of the lemon cake i made for dessert which resulted in lots of "hey! who ate the cake. Can I have some?" And many tears.

I went back to dinner and setting the table. While i did this parker followed me around begging me to play with him and made these messes:

Eventually, i turned the TV on so that i could get dinner on the table:

I hate the shows that tristan picks. But, she is an eight year old with remote control savvy.

Eventually he got up to eat with us. After which he promptly warmed his spot on the sofa back up. I got the kids ready for bed. Why do they make such a mess with toothpaste?

At some point i screamed downstairs "SHANE GET YOUR ASS UP HERE AND GET THE KIDS TO BED!" I put parker down, had a little snooze myself and ended my day looking a little weary.

And with that. Goodnight.

xxoo

I'm sitting here listening to Stephen Harper make his acceptance speech. Our new prime minister. It's so sad and scary. I'm pissed off that paul martin got us into this mess. I'm especially pissed off that my husband came home and told me he had voted conservative.

I couldn't believe it. We have never seen eye to eye on politics. Except in university. He fooled me into thinking he was a tender hearted boy. I feel like such a sucker on that one.

But, stephen harper? canada - tonight you suck.

With respectful apologies to all of you that i love that voted conservative - except shane - he's going to pay when he least expects it and in very sneaky ways.

Okay, so here is a link to a blog thingy shane created and uploaded his songs to. Comment here though cause i wanna know!

closer to four