THE SILVER SCREEN VS THE MIGHTY MACHINE

I watch a lot of movies. In most of them there is a series of events which culminate in a self realization which is preceded by a tragedy, or a test of moral fiber. Most times our lead character is triumphant in the end. Everything is tied up nice and neat and the people smile and ride off into the sunset. We see these movies and assume that all of this is just a fairy tale and none of this can happen to us in reality. Maybe this is true or maybe not. OR maybe we spend our lives trying to avoid the tragedy or the self realization or the conflict that allows us to have our aha moment.

One of my favourite plot lines is when the 'workaholic' dad or mom spends so much time at work they never see their kids. They don't know what is going on with their lives and have completely lost touch with their family. They spend every waking moment doing what the boss wants to 'get ahead' in the corporate world. Until that one fateful day when he misses a deadline and the boss fires him without a second thought. It's in that moment he realizes the 'value' he held at the company verses the value he has at home. He delivers a rather colourful monologue to his boss and goes home to play ball with his kids.

Sometimes OUR moments are not that extreme. Maybe it's the school play we missed every year because we work long hours. Maybe it's the meals that are eaten on the road because it's the only time we have. Or maybe it's the homework that doesn't get done because we don't have time to help. These are all moments that have consequences. We disappoint our children, our loved ones, our family and OURSELVES. These are the moments that should help us realize what is important in our lives.

I have heard the new generation referred to as self-entitled. They walk out of school and expect to be making the same money as the rest of us poor schleps without putting in the hours. That may be so but there is one thing they do have right. When the clock strikes 5pm they are done. It's time to live your life. Yet for some reason we as a working society frown on this notion. To be truthful I think they have it right.

There are many European cultures that DO NOT speak of work outside of work. They understand the idea of a balanced lifestyle. They do their hours in the office then they come home and live their lives. In other words they work to live - they do not live to work. Why does this seem to be a fantasy in our North American culture?

I know some of the arguments in favour of longer hours will revolve around commerce and 'the machine' but did you ever stop to wonder who benefits? And just how much MONEY does that machine need to make. We live in a society that sees the opportunity for the slice of the pie. We want it all and we want it bigger and bigger and bigger. We seem so focused on MORE we have lost sight of BETTER.

We talk about quality of life in this country but we really have no idea what it means. Quality of life isn't how big your SUV is or how beautiful home is. Quality of life is how your life is lived. It is the time you spend with people who love you and care about you. It is appreciating what you have as apposed to coveting what you don't. It's about the life you are sharing both yours with others and others with you.

So the next time you watch a movie try to imagine yourself in the leading role. Try to imagine what you would choose to do in that moment of crisis. What if you get fired tomorrow. What if you lose everything in the stock market. What if you have nothing but the clothes on your back. It's in this moment that we realize it's the relationships with others that sustains us. THEY give us the strength to move forward. For regardless of what tragedy is on the horizon for your leading lady, the people you love will be there to throw you a rope and pull you through.

WE ARE FAMILY!!!

My relationship with my family is a series of hills and valleys. That is to say that we have moments where we are so close and then there are those moments that we couldn't be more distant from each other. Ultmately though, I know that in the end we love each other and will be there for each other no matter what.

I think this is true of MOST families - not all but most. We all have the brother or sister that can sometimes grate on our nerves. They can be too controlling, too bossy, too lazy, lack structure. The fact is that no two people are alike and just because they come from the same gene pool - well that can make even more of a difference.

I have found that most of my understanding of my family has come with age. As teenagers my sister and I fought constantly. I was always capable of eliciting a reaction out of my sister and she was always eager to oblige. The fact was that my sister was always the older more 'responsible' one. She seemed to care more about things like cleaning, laundry, clothes etc. I was living in my head. So of course we misunderstood each other most of the time.

In my twenties I finally felt a real connection with my sister. I still noticed the differences but now we were both going to different schools and living in different cities. It was then that I realized how much I missed her. Most of all I missed someone that understood me. She had lived in the same house, had the same upbringing, had the same experiences. We always had that between us. I also missed having my big sister around to lean on.

My relationshiop with my mother has grown immensely since I have entered my thirties. Yes we too have our moments but now that I am a mother and I am experiencing a bit of adulthood myself I am starting to understand some of the decisions she has made over the years and the difficulties she as faced. All the while raising 2 girls.

I only hope that my girls appreciate one another and see the value in each other BEFORE they are in their twenties. I hope they know how important a sister is both now and in the future. And I hope that one day my girls will understand the decisions I have had to make as a mother.

So the next time your brother or sister is trying to take over your life or not pulling their weight at the next family event, try to imagine what it would be like if that person was not there at all. Imagine how different your life would be. Imagine how empty. Grab your sibling and say 'I love you...just the way you are." and then tell them to give you back the sweater they borrowed in 1993 because it's yours and she never asked if she could HAVE IT!!! hahaha-ish

YOUR FEET STINK!

My daughter's feet reek. She keeps sitting on the arm of the couch where I am sitting and I can't think of anything else other than the smell.

When I was a child, I was the only person allowed to keep my shoes on in the house because of the smell of my feet. Even my socks seemed to be falling off and flopping in front of me like a pair of clown shoes. It's like they were desperately trying to escape from their prison. I also recall having quite a few food stains on my shirts on regular occasion which would make sense considering what a sloppy child I was.

My room left nothing to be desired either. I had no carpet on my floor but the stuffed toys I left on it meant I never had to touch the ground. I even remember laying on them to sleep when the mood would strike. I hardly ever cleaned up after myself. My mother often resorted to bribery to keep my room clean. Once my room stayed clean for an entire month for which I was rewarded with a stuffed teddy ironically.


I also recall some very interesting outfits I put together. One particular outfit that sticks out in my memory was a yellow Kiss t-shirt, blue and white checked 'square dance' skirt, bright green socks and adidas running shoes.

These are the things I have to remember when my daughter crawls up beside me and she could peel paint off a bus with her foot odour. Or when my girls dress themselves and I have to fight the urge to hustle them upstairs and get them changed. Or when Delaney uses her shirt to wipe her face.

I am sorry this is all I can write today. The smell in here is killing me!

What can I say...they ARE my kids!

HAVING A BAD DAY CHIEF?

I started this morning off in a good mood. I was having a great day. I didn't sleep very well but still overall it wasn't bad. Then I was insulted AGAIN about my stupid wing sauce.

Once again my husband went to wing night last night. Once again I made the sauce. But this time he finished 10th out of 16. I didn't think that was so bad. After all it's only the second time I have ever made my own sauce. Apparently that wasn't good enough because I got a right slap in the face by one of the guys who was there. He told me I shouldn't make my husband's wing sauce. I explained that my husband doesn't know how to cook and doesn't know what he's doing (in the kitchen) lol! At this point he replies rather sharply "Neither do you" and laughs in a forced and short sort of manner.

It wasn't so much the obvious insult that bothered me it was the TONE in which it was delivered. From the moment I saw him I knew he was in a bad mood. I understood that, was gracious, kept conversation brief and didn't force his confidence. I was being sensible of his current state. For my trouble, he lashed out at me. Why? I don't know but he did, and it hurt.


At this point I was pissed. I responded "Well, we did better than last time and we didn't come last.". I managed to smile and keep my cool but when I got home that was another story entirely.

I understand we all have bad days and sometimes we direct our anger at the wrong person. My husband can testify that he has been victim to some of 'moods'. The only redemption I am afforded is that I do recognize my error and apologize. I also make every effort to control my tongue. It's not fair for my loved ones to suffer because I am suffering. So usually I segregate myself and avoid conversation to spare people's feelings.

So now a day that was once 'not so bad' has been changed by one person's careless remark. Normally I would either bottle this up, stuff it with food or turn into a pressure cooker and let the anger build. But not today. Today I am just going to FEEL and remember that tomorrow is another day full of potential. And if that doesn't work I am hitting the beach and I will tan my sorrows away.

GETTING 'SPAYED'

Last night I went to my vet to pick up my dog after being spayed. While waiting for the technician to bring out my dog I noticed an old friend exiting an exam room. Of course we started chatting about our pets. They had just gotten a new puppy and were bringing him in for his check up. I explained we were picking up our dog. We talked about past pets, current ones, how we wish we knew then what we know now...you get the picture.

It's at this point in the conversation that my old friend turns to me and asks "so when is YOUR puppy coming out?"

What do you mean? I thought to myself. What is he asking? Is he implying that I look PREGNANT? I knew I shouldn't have worn this shirt. It makes me look like I am hiding something OTHER than my 'fluffy' belly.

I couldn't believe I was finding myself in this situation. Not to say this hasn't happened before. I recall when I was in high school, 2 children in my neighbourhood approached me and asked me when my baby was coming out. I was only 170 pounds then. If they thought I was pregnant then, there is no wonder someone thinks that now.


All of us fluffy women have been in this dreaded situation. Although not everyone we meet feels the need to vocalize their curiousity about your growing girth. You notice the awkward glances and puzzled stares. You know what they are thinking and you cower at the thought of those dreaded words coming from their mouths "So...when is your due date?"

"Well I know when my period is DUE! Other than that I have no clue what you are talking about...hmph!!!"

Immediately my mind begins reeling in search of a way to get out this debacle while keeping my pride in tact and not making this extremely kind old friend feel bad for HIS (yes his) feaux pas? Do I say to him "Well unless I change species there will be no 'puppies' for me". Do I act wounded? Do I change subjects? I don't know. I am confused and embarassed and quite frankly, I am angry.

I know this person did not mean to insult me or hurt my feelings. I realize that it's an honest mistake and it can happen to anyone but STILL... I felt horrible not only for the implication but for feeling so ANGRY about it. Why was I making such a fuss? Why was I letting it hurt me? It's not like he called me fat or ignorant or, god forbid, a bad mother. He simply inquired when my PUPPY would be coming out. I suppose even the insinuation that I would birth puppies was hurting me as well. "What - so now I am a fat ugly dog?" This conversation was just spiraling into a very bad place.


After being flooded with all of these painful thoughts and emotions I reply to my friend with 'What puppy do you mean?'with a slightly 'irritated' tone.

He replies "I mean your puppy that is in the exam room with the vet".


O...M...G did I feel an idiot!!!

Now if I can stop laughing at myself for a second I will sum up my embarassment and say this...

Sometimes we can assume the worst when it comes to how people see us. Give people the benefit of the doubt before you jump to conlusions because they may surprise you. They may just value YOU for YOU and not how fluffy you THINK you are. In reality, it's usually our own inner critic that is the problem - not other people.

Lesson learned.

GIRL-GIRLS, GUY-GUYS, GUY-GIRLS & GIRL-GUYS

I am a guy-girl. What this means is that I am a girl but I am not very 'feminine' in the conventional sense. I am not meek or mild. I lack grace or finesse. I am also lacking certain delicate sensibilities that my girl-girl counterpart might possess. What does that mean for me? When I am in a setting with girl-girls I have trouble relating to them sometimes. I can't find any interest in talking about girly things like makeup or clothes. I once sat with a woman who talked for 30 minutes about a new sports bra she bought. Not too far into the conversation, I found myself grasping at the strings of consciousness as my mind drifted slowly into the abyss.

When I am with men I find it a bit tricky too. Men are used to girl-girls. They are comfortable around them and know what to expect. They can open doors, kill spiders and protect them from ne'er-do-wells lurking around dark corners. I am more of an 'I can dot it myself' type person. I don't need anyone to treat me like a delicate flower about to wilt at the slightest sign of trouble. When I engage in conversation I like to be treated as equal and I do the same for others. I don't concern myself with my femininity when I speak. I want to be considered a PERSON first and not a woman. Don't spare my delicate sensibilities and tip toe around me. I am a strong person. I am not an orchid.

I am also not very good at flirting. The whole batting the eyes thing and playing coy doesn't work so much for me. I prefer to be who I am and strike up a good conversation and see where it goes. Besides, I could have batted my eye right in my husband's face and he would never have noticed. I suppose for his sake it's a good thing I am not a girl-girl or we would not have made it to a first date.

It's not to say I don't respect my girl-girl friends. I have a few of them and I find them interesting to observe in public and around men but sometimes I find it difficult to relate to them. For me, it's like watching a movie like 'Legally Blonde' and all those sorority sisters are giggling and talking and carrying on. I just stand by eating popcorn and wonder 'What the hell are they talking about?' I appreciate the fact that my girl-girl friends have found a sense of 'sisterhood'. I just can't seem to understand it.

That being said, I have many guy-girl friends that I am completely comfortable with. They are strong independent women with minds and opinions. They are not afraid to take the world head on and make no apologies. They are proud of their inner strength, their abilities and their accomplishments and they don't play those down for anyone. I respect these women and I am proud to call them my friends.

Now for the guy-guys. My husband is a guy-guy to the core. He is strong and masculine. He is a woodworker and can fix stuff. He watches NASCAR. What more can I say. I don't know about killing spiders, and he doesn't hold the door for me, but that's because he knows I can do it myself. At times when a man holds the door for me or pays for dinner I feel diminished somehow. Like I need to be kept. If they are going through the door anyway - and just stop it from slamming in my face - that's a different story. But when he intentionally steps forward, puffs out his chest and swings open the door like a parade is about to march by...that's a little much.

Next is girl-guys. I have been known to be attracted to this variation quite often. They are usually intelligent, sensitive, great conversationalists and great friends. They are good at all things cerebral. But if you need something repaired - do not ask a girl-guy. He will simply pick up the yellow pages and 'call' someone to do the job for you.

I suppose that what I am saying is there are all sorts of feminine and masculine out there and we don't all need to fit into one particular category. Yes there are times when I wish I was more of a girl-girl. I wish I could be seen as ethereal and delicate and graceful but I know that will never happen. I also know that if I had to trade in who I am now to get that wish, I would not. I am proud of my strength regardless of who I may emasculate in the process (sorry boys).

So the next time I say or do something that is not very feminine just remember, I am not defined by my 'sex' but by my personality and my spirit. I don't wish to be judged based on criteria set out by an archaic patriarchal society that no longer holds credence in how women should behave. I am not just 'woman', I am me...YVONNE...hear me roar!

PAINS, TRAINS & BUFFETS

Well I am finally back from my whirlwind adventure in Toronto and Niagara Falls. For what seems like forever, I have been in a training seminar for 2 days in Toronto, a dance competition for my daughter in Niagara Falls and all the while working from my laptop while I shuttled back and forth from Brantford to my client's office. Please understand I am not complaining because all the while I was working and earning money which is a good thing. I am just exhausted from the journey. Not to mention I am carrying a new 'weight' on my hips rather than my shoulders.

On Wednesday and Thursday of last week I attended a training seminar in Toronto. In order to do this I had my children sleep at their grandma's houses on Tuesday night and Wednesday night so I could board the train at 7:20 am. So Tuesday night the kids went to my mum's house after dinner. Wednesday morning I grabbed a quick breakfast and got on the train. From here on in the miles AND the calories start to mount.

For lunch that day my friend Deb was kind enough to treat us all to lunch. I ordered the Chicken pesto sandwich with fries and ate every. last. bite. (chicken sandwich 400 calories: french fries 500 calories)

Once I arrived home that evening at 6:30 pm I had to meet my mother at dance to pick up my eldest daughter while my husband took my youngest to baseball. By the time we got home it was past 7:30 pm and neither Kevin nor I had eaten. We decided to have a late dinner consisting of chicken schnitzel deep fried and served on a bun (500 calories). But before that I had timbits which my daughter got as a treat on the way to grandma's in Hamilton (70 calories per timbit x 7 timbits = 490 calories).

That night I managed to drift off by 11:30 pm and woke at 3:30 am unable to go back to sleep. So I lay there for several hours hoping to get some rest. By 7:20 I was back on a train to Toronto - hungry and tired - a deadly combination that can cause EXTREME sugar cravings. Once I arrived at the office I had just enough time to grab a tea and a muffin at Tim Horton's (muffin 300 calories: tea 50 calories) before I was thrust back into the classroom for yet another day.

Once again someone else took us out for lunch. Today I had the Mushroom Swiss burger with fries and AGAIN ate every bite (burger 600 calories fries 500 calories). After the seminar I boarded a train and it was off to Hamilton to meet my family and rush to Niagara Falls for my daughter's dance competition. On the road I snagged a few more timbits from Delaney (210 calories) and arrived at the hotel by 6:45 pm.

Once we settled in and unpacked Kevin and I decided it was time to have dinner. We ventured out to the competition location and stopped for dinner at Arby's to pick up a chicken club and fries (chicken club 500 calories: curly fries 540 calories). After which we returned to the hotel to eat dinner at 9:00 pm.

Friday morning my daughter and I went to Starbucks to grab tea and a muffin for me (muffin 360 calories) and we were off to her first dance.

At 9am we returned to the room so I could do a few hours work and Kevin and the girls could play some games.

Once I was done working we decided to go for some lunch. Burger for me please (600 calories). At 2:30 pm was the next dance and then we had a short break before we were back for the final dance. During which time we went to Wal-Mart to pick up pajamas and a toothbrush which I forgot to pack and I 'treated' myself to a chocolate bar (100 calories). I figured a bit of sugar would keep me going until the day was done.

At 8pm the dancing was over, the awards were given and we found time to eat...again. so it was off to a BUFFET! What a mistake. I had 2 plates of food for about 900 calories (mostly pasta). Then I HAD to have some ice cream for dessert. After which we went back to our room and I vaguely recall stopping at the store and purchasing more chocolate to 'snack' on later.

So here is my grand total for my week of food and travel:

Total kilometers traveled per day

Wednesday - 200 KM
Thursday - 300 KM
For a total of 500 KM

Total calories

Wednesday - 1,890 calories
Thursday - 2,700 calories
Friday - 2,200 calories

Okay so overall this isn't as bad as it looks. According to the fitness test done at the gym my body's resting rate of caloric burn is 1900 calories BUT most of those calories are from sugar and fat. AND most of them were consumed very late at night which did not give my body opportunity to use the calories consumed.

So what was the result of the week spent on the road and in the restaurant? I gained
7 POUNDS!!!!

Now it is going to take me A MONTH to lose that gain. Now I can spend all day complaining about the fact that my husband ate just as badly and gained nothing. I can rationalize my food choices by saying I was sleep deprived. I can plead that I wanted the TREAT just like everyone else had but the reality is that I am the one who is now paying the price. It took me all day Saturday and most of Sunday to recover from feeding my body all this crap and treating my body so badly. I should have skipped the sugar and fat and went to sleep. Had I planned a bit better and realized all of the pitfalls of this week I would have approached it with a 'plan' to avoid bad eating and treated myself and my body better. Instead I went into this week a blur.

I think this is where many of my mistakes have been made. Not only did I eat badly during this week I spent large amounts of money which could have been avoided with a bit of planning ahead. We could have mapped out restaurants and meal times that catered to healthy choices eaten at healthy times. I could have packed things like fruit and whole grains to eat on the train and in the car to avoid grabbing something quickly to tie me over until later.

In retrospect I see my mistakes and I know to do it differently in the future. Although I will admit I loved every minute of the consuming all that sugary, fatty goodness while I was doing it, I did not consider the impact it would have on me and my body later. I think I can equate this feeling to that which you feel after spending too much money. You see something you want, you convince yourself to get it and you regret that same action later. The only difference is once you consume a calorie it cannot be returned as easily as a fancy dress or an expensive pair of shoes.

So now I must make a new plan to rid myself of my guilt and my extra pounds and move on. I won't beat myself up over this slip but instead I will learn from it and with God as my witness I will never eat buffet again!

THE RAT RACE

Well, despite a nervous start to my day, my trip to Toronto went very well. I had such little time between getting myself ready, selecting an outfit, rushing to the station and getting on the train I had few opportunities to miss the children. I did manage to squeeze in a quick phone call to say good morning. It was ended with my youngest daughter muttering as she hung up 'that was a weird phone call from mom'. Apparently she was not being affected by my absence in the least.

Once I arrived downtown I had just enough time to jump on the subway and rush to my client's office. I had a bit of time once I got there for quick greetings and to grab a cup of tea and then it was down to work.

Overall I thoroughly enjoyed the opportunity to learn something new. It gave my brain something to latch onto rather than worry. Only once did I reflect on my children when we discussed programming Amber Alerts on the screen networks. At that point my friend Deb gave me a quick rub on the arm to let me know it was okay (she knew I was a 'little tense' about leaving the girls).

We broke shortly after 12:20 for lunch and I was so engrossed in the conversation of other grown ups that once again, the time passed without a second thought. Then it was back to work until the train ride home. The only worry I had was whether or not the old bloke beside me was going to toss his liquid lunch all over my lap.

I managed to squeeze an hour of work on the train ride home, picked up Rhea at dance and before I knew it I was back home again. Now I do it all over again tomorrow before I meet my family in Niagara Falls for Rhea's dance competition.

Regardless of the fact that all is well and I made it through one aspect of all this dashing about sticks out in my mind. I have barely had 5 minutes to sit and chat with my girls. We completely missed time at the dinner table which is when we would discuss our days. I felt I didn't have the time or TAKE the time to listen to my husband and his day. It seems fairly obvious to me that my family unit could not survive or function if this was to happen every day. There is no way both my husband and I could work out of town and still keep as close ties as we do now. Already in one day I felt the distance between us. From a short term perspective we will be fine but thank goodness this is all over soon.

So now I will go to bed because I am too exhausted to miss the kids and I start all over again in the morning.

Good night!

A CLOUDED PERSPECTIVE

I am going to Toronto tomorrow and Thursday for training. I am not worried about this or stressed about it. I am however anxious about leaving my kids for 2 days. I know this sounds paranoid but I have a lot of difficulty leaving them even overnight.

I am trying to explain my fear while avoiding the details of where my fear comes from so bare with me. I will explain briefly.

As a child I had an abusive father. I was very frightened of him as we all were. He would get drunk everyday and was easily provoked. We never knew when we would get in trouble or for what. He would just explode and we would duck and run for cover. So needless to say I was hurt both physically and emotionally. But I don't think this is what the fear comes from.

I was also sexually abused by a relative. I don't want to get into the details of this but I know this has left me with some major trust issues. I am suspicious of most people I meet and have trouble trusting people with my children.

Between both of these events I am extremely protective of my girls. I never let them out of my sight for a minute. And I know that no one will watch my children as closely as I do. So I am worried that someone else will turn their head at the wrong moment and something awful will happen.

I am also worried that people are gullible. They don't assume the worst of others and assume they are honest. I don't think that way. I am suspicious of most people I meet. Yes this sounds jaded but I have lived my life so long this way I don't know how to change it. Plus, I would prefer to be suspicious and on my guard from the start then be caught unawares and open to injury both for me and my children.


So here I am, stressing over leaving my children with my family - not because I don't trust my family I just don't trust other people. Both my mother and my mother-in-law don't think the way I do. They don't see the bad in others right away. I don't think it's a fault. They just haven't experienced that violation of trust to darken their perspective.

I know I am being paranoid, I know I am being irrational but my paranoia is so bad it has become 'physical'. I feel physically ill, I am tense, and I have to take a sleeping pill just to sleep when my kids aren't with me.

So now I have to keep it together for the next few days because I need to get work done and perform and 'seem' normal for the sake of myself and my client. I don't know how to rid this feeling of dread I have. I just know it controls me and invades my mind and I don't want it to. I don't want to think bad thoughts - to think that something horrible will happen and see it in my head, to be so suspicious it controls my life. I suppose I just want to know my children are safe. I don't want them to experience what I have. I don't want them to feel what I feel. I want them to be safe. I want them to be happy.

TO MY MUM ON MOTHER'S DAY

Today I would like to dedicate my blog to my mother for she has been the most positive roll model in my life and without her I would not be the person I am today.

My mother was married in 1970 at the tender age of 19 - which was appropriate at the time in Scotland. Within that same year she had my sister. This was quite a momentous change for her I imagine between devoting her life to her husband and now a child. I can only imagine how dramatic her life changed in one short year.

Just one year later at the age of 20 she had me. Now she was also raising 2 small children as well as keeping a house and tending to my father. When I consider what I had done by the age of 20 it only amounted to finishing high school and starting college. I could not imagine having one child, never mind 2 OR God forbid being married.

By the time I was 1 1/2 years my father packed us all up and moved to Canada. My father had several brothers here but my mother had no one. No one to call and have a tea with, no one to talk to or lean on for support. I can only imagine how alone she felt. She had left the only home and family she knew to come here for my father AND for us. Once again she sacrificed so much for our benefit.

I remember my mother working many factory jobs while here in Canada. When she worked at United Car I remember her coming home with cuts all over her fingers from working the line and handling car parts. I remember the smell of the factory on her clothes. i remember how hard she worked all day to pay for things like food and clothing then she would come home and cook and clean for us.

By the time I reached grade eight my mother left my father - once again she did this to keep me and my sister safe. At the time we were living in a small apartment in Brantford. We left suddenly and had nowhere to go. Luckily my uncle took us in until we could make other arrangements. How hard this must have been for my mother to make the decision to leave my father for I knew how frightened she was of him because we all were. I can only imagine how difficult it was to call my father's brother for help. To risk him turning us away and taking my father's side. I don't know if even now she realizes how brave she was doing what she did.

During that separation we travelled to Scotland so we could be closer to my mother's family. She was on her own with 2 girls, just separated and scared. I can completely understand her decision to move us back to Scotland after all that she had been through without the love and support of her family. We were left in peace for 3 months. Then my father decided to come to Scotland too and the peace and quiet ended. My mother had to make the difficult decision to move back to Canada, again to keep us safe. Plus she knew that we would not have the same opportunities for a career in Scotland as we would in Canada. Once again she sacrificed her own happiness and security for us.

During the next few years my mum went back to working at the factory but because of her long absence she lost seniority. She did not have the same pay or security she once had. She knew she had to make a change and enrolled herself in school to become a Health Care Aid. This was no easy task as she also worked full time, looked after 2 teenage girls and had to achieve a high grade just to pass her course. I don't know how she did it but she did. I was so incredibly proud of what my mother accomplished.

When my husband and I started dating my mother bought her first house on her own. I know she was scared and felt an incredible financial pressure but she did it. Not many people can say that they could afford to buy a home, a car and manage to go on the occasional vacation but my mother has. She is fantastic at handling money and always has been. I secretly wish I had her gift with numbers. She has always been incredibly talented in math and a whiz with numbers. She has always managed to survive on a small budget and does not waste a penny. I think we could all learn from my mum.

Now my mother is a grandmother and what a wonderful one she is. She picks up my girls from school every day just so I can have a couple of hours to finish my work. She has all of her grandkids over to sleep over whenever she can, and I know that if I EVER need her to help she is ALWAYS there. I really am truly blessed to have my mother both for myself and my children.

Mum, no matter what has happened in our lives I have always had your love and support. You have done so much for us in ways I sometimes need reminding of and today I want you to know that I see what you have done. I feel the sacrifices you have made and I love the person that you are. Thank you for being my rock, my role model, my heart of gold. Without you we would be lost. I love you mum.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY TO ALL THE WOMEN IN MY LIFE

Well tomorrow is Mother's Day. The day when we are recognized for the tireless, thankless hours we put into motherhood. I like to think of this as a day I can relax and take stock of my life.

From the moment I held my first daughter in my arms I knew what it was to truly love. I had many relationships in which those words were exchanged and I thought I meant it but I never really understood until I had Rhea. To love is to be willing to sacrifice all that you have and all that you are to give that other person what they need to live and thrive. This is how I feel about my girls.

Today I would like to say Happy Mother's Day to all the women in my life because even if you did not birth children you are all mothers in some way. Whether you love your friends or family, you have nurtured those around you in some way. That makes you a mother. And for that we are all grateful for none of us would be the same without you.

IT'S NOT USUALLY LIKE THIS...HONEST

I have someone coming to give us an assessment of our house today and I am completely stressed out. It's not the evaluation that bothers me but the fact that my house is not as clean as I would like it to be. I seem to get this way whenever people come over because I am afraid of being judged by the cleanliness of my home. I get myself all stressed out, I become an absolute stroppy cow and I snap at anyone who so much as leaves a crumb on the counter.

My husband is completely puzzled by this behaviour but I know women understand this condition. Men are not judged by the cleanliness of their home but women are. And not by everyone either. There are very few people in my life who care if my 5 year old left her dirty socks in the living room or that there is laundry on the laundry room floor. It's usually people that are complete strangers whose opinion should not matter to me. Still I want to make a good impression and somewhere in my twisted brain I seem to think a sparkly home is going to do that.

It's not like I am going to be on an episode of Hoarders (a judging statement in itself) I just know my house could be cleaner. It's really the clutter that seems to gather daily that gets under my skin. The piles on the stairs that need to be brought up and sorted, the toys in the play room that need organized, the bunny cages needing cleaned and my desk that's in desperate need of some TLC. I see all these things and know it has to be done but I can't seem to find the time to do it. It may very well be that I dont' want to do it either or I would FIND the time.

I know that dealing with this clutter and continuing to 'purge' the superfluous 'stuff' in my life is also part of my journey. After all the clutter usually accumulates while I am too busy. I am not taking the time to notice what is going on around me. I am not truly 'living' in the moment I am going through the motions to get by because I am too 'busy' to really observe what it is I am doing and how I am living my life.All of this clutter is also representative of a life I no longer want to lead and it is weighing me down. It reminds of money spent, debt accumulated and a life not lived but filled with baggage in the physical and emotional sense. In order to truly take control of my life I must take control of my surroundings.

So, I am going to accept that my house is not perfect today as I would secretly like it to be. But I vow to one day tackle it. Not all at once but bit by bit. After all, becoming real happens over time. It may hurt sometimes but once you are real it doesn't matter. Someday I will be real too.

SPIRITS, SPIRITUALITY AND THE HOLY SPIRIT

As most of you already know I love ghost hunting shows. My favourite is Ghost Hunters followed by Ghost Hunters International. They use a scientific logical approach to investigate supposed haunted locations to determine if 'ghosts' really have taken up residence. The investigators use EMF detectors (electro-magnetic field) EVP (electronic voice phenomenon) to record disembodied voices and infa-red cameras to see images beyond what the naked eye can see.

If you are wondering why I watch these shows the answer is simply 'I WANT to believe'. Like most people on this planet I want to believe that if my loved ones pass they are watching over me like guardian angels. I want to believe if I pass before my time I will be able to stick around in spirit form and watch out for my kids. Watching these shows gives me a shred to hang onto that my logical brain can rationalize into reality. I figure if I hear that disembodied voice or see that ghostly apparition in a photo I can honestly say to my self that, yes indeed, spirits exist and I will be comforted by that knowledge.

Oddly enough I don't know if I believe in places like Heaven or Hell. I know that it seems like an odd observation since I seem to be willing to believe in disembodied entities but I don't see them as the same thing. I believe that we are all made up of energy. Perhaps ghosts are just residual energy left behind. I am even willing to believe that my soul continues on in some form but not in the 'religious' way I was brought up to believe. My 'soul' lives on in the people I leave behind. They carry pieces of me because I touched their lives in some way. We also create positive or negative energy through our actions. I believe that if I am positive both in my behaviour and my intentions, that energy is left to my family and loved ones and hopefully they can carry that with them and continue to be positive themselves.

I know all of this sound hokey (especially to my husband who I know will read this) but it really makes complete sense. We all influence those around us both positive and negatively. If we choose to be a positive force we will leave a positive legacy. This is true of how we treat others and our planet. I believe that we leave an imprint on the people we meet and the world. Most call it our global footprint I suppose but I think it is more than just tracking your car's emissions and how much electricity you consume. It's not just how much you take from the land but also what you give back.

I suppose like many of my friends I cannot describe my beliefs in religious terms because I cannot relate to the concept of religion. Throughout my childhood I was taught that I would be 'judged' by God and I would go to hell if I am bad. I know people talk about seeing 'their life flash before their eyes' in a near death situation but I think this is just a friendly reminder that you just received a second chance so don't screw it up. You see in that moment how you lived your life and that dictates whether or not your 'flash' is good or bad. I Know people have also seen the white light and loved ones waiting for them. This I believe but I don't think it is 'heaven' in the terms defined to us. I say this because I don't believe in hell either. I was always taught that one comes with the other so I guess that's where I lose faith. I don't believe God judges everyone in such black and white terms. I think life should be lived to help your fellow man, do well unto one another and love ourselves and the world around us. I can't seem to fit this definition in terms of the religion I was raised to believe.

I realize that there are many people out there who whole heartedly disagree with me but I also believe to each his own. I don't believe it is up to us to judge each other's beliefs. I am a spiritual person and believe we should embrace each other in culture, person and beliefs regardless of what they are. I have only chosen to share what I believe because I need to say it to the world. I am living my life as a spiritual person with good intentions which will hopefully lead to good actions. And in the end when I 'meet my maker' I will be comforted in the knowledge that I have chosen to live a good life by my own terms and that is good enough for me.

THINGS THAT MAKE YOU GO WOOT WOOT!

I don't know if anyone has noticed but woot woot has replaced woohoo. So in an effort to keep with the times I am doing the same althought I am not 100% comfortable with this development. I feel like an owl who just won first prize at a barn dance.

I have noticed the events that get me excited seem to come in a cycle. When I was a child it was the small stuff like when HR Pufinstuf would come on television because I didn't get to see it very often. Even something as simple as a friend coming to play or tying my shoes would whip me into fits of joy.

In my teenage years it took a heck of a lot more umph. It would be things like new clothes, bigger price tags, walkmans, parties and concerts. Most days I would barely crack a smile let alone a cheer. It was all about material superfluous things. God I was a shallow teenager no matter how 'deep' and goth I pretended to be.

In my twenties it was about getting a good grade on a project, kissing that boy you always wanted to kiss, graduating college or even going home on weekends to party with my friends. There was alot of meaning behind this excitement because they had significance in my life.

Now, as a mother in my thirties, I find excitement in the simplest of things. Here is a quick list:

1. When I get a light period.
2. Getting my period at all!
3. Sleeping in on Sunday morning because Rhea doesn't have dance.
4. Someone else doing the laundry and nothing gets shrunk.
5. A hot cup of tea in the morning.
6. Having less mole hair today then the day before.
7. Watching ghost shows. Stop laughing!
8. Getting client approval on the first try - the rare WOOT
9. Not having to change the toilet paper roll because someone else did it. (still waiting for this woot)
10. Dreaming I am stranded on a dessert island with Colin Farrell, waking up briefly and still being able to go right back to the same place I left off in the dream.

I have another 10 list involving things with my kids but honestly I think all of us mom's get worked up about the littlest things when it comes to our children. Like when they smile at us for the first time, say the word 'mommy', go poo in the toilet instead of their pants, or fart bubbles in the tub and you both laugh until you cry...all that great stuff.

Some people equate finding joy in the smallest of life's pleasures as a gift that comes with age. But I think sometimes you just need to get excited about the silly stuff to have something to look forward to. It's an opportunity to celebrate even the smallest accomplishment. Let's face it, the big ones don't come along very often and if we spend our lives waiting for that big WOW we will find ourselves waiting most of the time. Yes there are bigger issues in our lives and we are all painfully aware of it. Yes we have stress and conflict and difficulties and turmoil. But to get through it I say we find a little woot woot everyday... even if it is just tub toots, it's still worth enjoying!

"I'LL DO IT MYSELF" SAID THE LITTLE RED HEN

Today I went plant shopping with my friend Tracy. Since my encounter with the movie Food Inc. I have completely changed how I view food in the supermarket and what I choose to serve my family.

Food Inc. is a documentary exposing the less than savory practices of the food industry. From meat processing to corn, the shocking truth about how chickens are raised and slaughtered, the mass processing plants for meat, the run off from cattle farms into vegetable crops carrying e-coli. All of this scared me into being a more contiencious consumer.

It isn't just becuase of this movie that I am changing the way I shop. It has been a progressive switch and for many reasons. I use my local butcher because he gives me what I need and the quality is superior. We are now buying farm fresh eggs because the eggs are bigger and you can see the difference in the yolk which is a dark orange rather than yellow. I also just found out today that a local apple orchard sells produce beyond just apples so I am going to go there first for my fruits and vegetables. I am also going to TRY to get to the farmer's market here in town but to be truthful it is very small and the selection is not good. Still I want to support local farmers so as I said I will give it a try.

This brings me to my next venture. For the past 2 years we have had a vegetable garden. It's been more of a hobby than anything else really but this year I would like it to become the primary source of our produce. We also have an enormous pear tree that gives us about 10 baskets every year. I may even plant a cherry tree this year. Eventually I would like to have our own chickens but I think my husband might have something to say about that. Perhaps when we are older and retire to the country, as we dream to do one day, I will be able to get a cow too!

In order to further the 'freshness' factor I started baking my own bread last week. I cheat a little and use the bread maker to do the mixing and rising but I still take the dough out and make buns or loaves. I don't find the bread maker does a nice job doing the final bake.

I don't know if it is old age or watching too much documentary television but I just feel a need to 'make' more of what we eat. Years ago we would have to work the land, grow our crops, reap what we sow and bake the bread. There was more of a sense of appreciation for the food we ate. Now we just jump into our car and head to the store.

There is so much waste in our society including our food and I think alot of that has to do with our sense that everything is disposable. If we had to work hard to make everything we eat and grow then maybe we would value it more. I know I have been guilty of wasting food in the past. I went through a phase where you couldn't see the back of my fridge either but that time has passed. I want to value the food I put on my plate and savour every morsel. I know all this sounds pretty pioneer-ish but if it makes me and my family healthier then slap a bonnet on my head and move me to Elmira with the Amish because I think they have the right idea. Work hard for what you have, support the community, provide for your own and you will thrive.

THAT'S IT - WE'RE LEAVING...WITH OUR STUFF!

While I was taking a break and eating my chicken noodle soup, I caught about an hour of the movie 'Confessions of a Shopaholic'. Needless to say I could relate to some of what the main character was saying even though my appeal does not tend to be Gucci or Parada but other 'stuff' that I really don't need. At one point in the film, the main character attends a 'shopaholics anonymous' meeting. The leader of the group says to the others 'You have been spending your money on things that you think you need. Why not give away those things you don't' need for no money at all'. Of course I am paraphrasing but still - What a refreshing change of attitude.

In the past I have been known to buy far too much for my children. I find that I can make excuses to go overboard with them because it is not for me. When I look through my kids clothes I see 10 pairs of jeans, most of which my daughter refuses to wear, skirts that never leave the drawer and dresses that have never seen the light of day. I realize that they could do with about half of what they currently have if not less.

I think a lot of this started when I lived in Hamilton. Most of the kids on our street had everything. Every time my daughter would go to a friend's house she would tell me all about the clothes they had and the toys and I always felt somehow I had to compete with that. The people on my street were always competing and not just with our children. It was all about who had a hot tub, a new pool, who was doing renovations, whose lawn was the greenest, who had the nicest car, the list goes on and on. Before I moved to this street I wasn't that person, but the minute I moved into that house in Hamilton everything changed.

I felt like my entire life was being judged. From my home to my children, what activities we did, my clothing, my weight. It was like living under a microscope. And the longer I lived there the worse it got. I was so desperate for my neighbours to like me I played their game too - I wanted them to like me after all. But that never really happened. I recall trying to talk about current events or relevant goings on in Parent Council and the neighbours would change the subject to what was on sale at the grocery store or what new clothes were at Children's Place. I just couldn't relate to them.

So after 5 years my husband and I agreed we had had enough, packed our things and moved back to Brantford. We wanted to make being close to family and loved ones a priority. To tell the truth I needed my family. I felt alone and secluded and I needed the people who loved me by my side. So here we are.

Since we moved back I have reconnected with some of my old friends who have been my saving grace. I can honestly say that they love me for me and I feel the same way about them. I didn't realize how rare a gift this was until I left my old neighbourhood. Even the new friends I have made here make me feel safe and secure and appreciated. Perhaps this is why I am on the journey for my authentic self - because I am surrounded by authentic friends to support me along the way.

I am still battling the urge to spend, spend, spend but I am winning it. I just keep reminding myself that no matter how much I buy those posessions will not make me 'feel' complete. Yes there is a temporary high when you purchase a new item. There is the joy I get from giving it to my daughter as she smiles and tries it on. But then there is the guilt that I feel for spending money on something we could have gone without. I feel even worse when I see other children who don't have enough clothes to get through the week and come to school filthy everyday.

It is because of all of these reasons that I have decided to have a mom-to-mom clothing night. I am going to donate my children's extra clothes that they clearly don't need to someone who does need it. There are many families in my neighbourhood that go without every day and if I can help in any way I will. Hopefully through this exercise I can cleanse some of the guilt I feel about my participation in this spending fiasco because I realize I am not innocent either. I was actively participating in keeping up with the Jones' so I should not be excused. I just hope I can be forgiven...not by anyone but me.

WHAT DO YOU SEE?

Yesterday I was reminded that some mothers are giving their daughter's body issues and they may not even be aware of it.

My eldest daughter Rhea invited a friend to her dance competition. When her friend saw some of the cropped top outfits she said she could never do competitive dance. Naturally I assumed it was because she was shy. In reality it was because her mother told her that her belly was too big. I told her she was perfect just the way she was. Of course she defended her mother and said 'it's not like she ever said I was fat' but this girl did not realize the damage her mother's comment had already done to her body image.

I have come across a few mothers who show obvious concern about their daughter's weight. I have seen 7 year olds on diets. I have heard mother's talking in hushed voices about their own and other people's 'overweight' children. These women don't' realize that if the children hear what these women are saying it will stay with them forever.

I recall as a child being told openly that I was overweight. I attended my first Weight Watchers meeting when I was only 8 years old with an aunt. I wanted to go but it was because everyone around me told me I was fat. From that time on I remember hating my body. I felt that people favoured my skinny sister because she was prettier and had less fat on her. I even had an aunt that openly favoured my sister and would invite her to go camping and not ask me. I still recall some of her hurtful remarks about my weight. Now here I am 30 years later, with the same attitude about my body.

Even the conversations we have about ourselves in front of our girls affects how they perceive themselves. If they hear us judging ourselves by our appearance will they not do the same to themselves? If we do not love and encourage ourselves how will our daughters? If we as parents truly teach by example what are we 'teaching' our children about body image?

From this day forward I am going to vow to be positive about my body. If I can't do this for myself I am going to do it for my daughters. I don't want them to think it's okay to hate anything about their bodies because it is not. And lets face it, how can I expect a positive self image from my children if I cannot do the same for myself.

SIGNS OF AGING YOUR MOTHER FORGOT TO MENTION

As I quickly approach my 40th year I am noticing subtle changes in my personality and my appearance. Changes that I never really expected and was never warned about so needless to say some of them are a bit shocking. These are the signs of aging your mother never told you about.

I will begin with the pleasant parts. I have noticed that in most situations I seems to remain quite calm compared to my younger years. In situations that would normally cause me to fly into a defensive rage now just wash away from me like water. I am able to put things into better perspective and not let my emotions rule me entirely. For instance yesterday my daughter was pretending to 'bounce' her fist off of my protruding belly avec sound effects 'boing, boing'. If I was ten years younger I would have sulked because my child indicated through her actions that my belly is somewhat 'bouncy'. Yesterday I just looked down, patted her head and said 'yes Delaney...hahaha 'boing''. See nothing at all.

Now I have always realized there some common subtle nuances associated with aging that we are all aware we should expect. Such things as wrinkles, age spots, crows feet, grey hair...all those wonderful things you can buy creams and lotions and tonics to help 'slow' the aging process. There are a few other 'symptoms' that have shocked me entirely.

If you look at a child you will notice their skin is smooth and boyant with no pores showing - flawless. As you get older all this changes. When I wake up in the morning it takes about 30 minutes for my face to no longer look like the creased sheets I slept on the night before. My face looks smooshed and puffy, I have creases under my eyes and if it wasn't for my slightly pudgy face I am sure my cheek skin would fold in two under pressure of my head.

Some things that dont' clear up - uneven skin tone, enlarged pores around my mouth and chin, jelly legs, crepe paper boobs, lumpy tummy...I think you've heard enough on this topic - moving on...

And then there was hair. As you age you get hair in the most emberassing place which are noticed at the most inopportune times. Every month I get random chin hair. Black hair that grows QUITE long and at no particular time. I check my chin regularly because God forbid I am in the midst of a serious conversation only to find my client staring blankly at the 'rope' that is forming under my chin. Needless to say I try to stay on top of this situation but it always seems that one day the hair is not there and the next day small children could you use it as a jungle gym.

Another not-so-pleasant thing is mole hair. Granted this can start growing when you are quite young but it seems every decade that stuff can multiply. Now I not only have to pluck my eyebrows and my chin I have to give my moles a mowing over with my 'personal shaver' LOVELY!

And lets not forget nose hair...HA! I bet you thought this only happened to old men in Florida who wear socks with sandals. Well you would be wrong. Women get it too. Just 2 weeks ago I was in the car with my husband Kevin, riding him about his little jungle springing from his nostrils. As I was crying with laughter I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and gasped. There it was - one single nose hair hanging below the nostril. I will admit I tried to pluck it but after many attempts once again I reached for my shaver.

Last but not least is stray nipple hair. Yes I said it and that is all I am going to say because those of you who do have it - you know you find it WHILE you are being intimate with your partner! There is no nipple hair removal routine...who would think those babies existed until you are buck naked in the throws of passion, you look down and....OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT THING? How you handle it here is up to you but I opt for a fake trip to the ladies room for some quick removal. Married or not that stuff is gross!

Just when I thought sex and menstruation were the only things my mother didn't tell me about life I have all of these other little gems to comfort me. Now I am left to wonder what other charming changes my body has in store for me as my hormones crash. Here's hoping menopause is the worst of it. I mean can you imagine all that sweating and hot flashes and mood swings accompanied by bushy eyebrows, enlarged ears, bulging noses, sagging boobs....wait....all that stuff happens later too...Oh well, at least in 40 years I can just act like I am senile then it won't matter that I have a mole on my cheek growing a small forest, a rope hanging from my chin, little elves living in my nose hair and a belly like a piniata...ah life is grand isn't it?