I don't know why, but I really struggle to be optimistic. Especially when someone is throwing negative crap at me!
Why is it so important to be optimistic? Why does it seem that everything around us has a negative spin? Do I listen to too much news?
Anyone who knows me would find it hard to believe that I think a lot about what I'm going to say before I say it. When I don't, I think about even more after I say it!
It's an internal battle. Say what I feel or think versus say what I want. So often honesty is not the best policy. Nobody wants to hear that you don't like their hair cut or their new blouse. When someone asks you how you are today, they don't want to hear that you're unhappy or you wished you'd stayed in bed. Such a stigma for the depressed!
However, I am not a pessimistic person. I like to be optimistic. I like to find solutions to problems. I think that if I'm putting out some positive energy, I will eventually get more in return. It's not easy for me, though. Sometimes I really have to dig deep.
"If you don't have anything good to say, don't say anything at all." I heard this a lot growing up. I guess I've always been a grumbler. So what do you do if you can't say anything at all and your thoughts are building up until you want to explode? Where does the negativity go? Can we really turn negative thoughts into positive? How?
When someone asks me how I am today, they'll either hear "good" on a good day or "ok" on a bad one. I envy my friends who always say "great!" Seeing the sunny side of life all the time must be wonderful.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Play
I'm taking a crack at writing an article for the Yummy Mummy club (see: www.yummymummyclub.ca) Their theme in May is "Mummy Plays". They don't pay for articles, but it might be a way for me to start writing for "real". Please provide feedback (ie. constructive criticism, typo corrections, general comments, encouragement, etc.)
Here we go...
Silly Mummy, Toys are for kids!
How silly am I? When I go out on a rare shopping trip alone, I usually get what I'm looking for in the first few minutes then spend the rest of the time browsing the toy or kids clothing aisles. When my kids aren't shopping with me, it is a bit of a relief, but even in their absence I'm thinking about them!
And so what if I am? Maybe part of the desire to look through the toy aisle is my own nostalgia and looking at toys for them gives me an excuse to reflect. Remembering the good times I had with my strawberry shortcake dolls, shrinky-dinks or pogo ball. With some rare exceptions, it is hard to recapture the fun I had on the playground with my friends as children. Clothing and accessories just don't do it for me!
Playing with my own kids is rewarding and fun in its own way, but often I'm distracted by safety concerns or what I have to do next (make dinner, do laundry, etc.) It's not as much fun when I'm trying to play in the sandbox with one child while pushing the other on the swing. Sometimes I'm even struck by my own ignorance. How do we play monster trucks?
I haven't yet found a real substitute for playing with toys as an adult (ahem, I don't mean "adult" toys here). Driving a van full of kids around isn't the same as driving a Barbie van full of Barbies to the Barbie house for a pool party with Ken. And home repairs are definitely not as thrilling as building something really cool with blocks.
If I enjoyed sports as a kid, I guess it may be equally as fun to play sports now. However, I didn't and I really don't. Fortunately, my kids are all better with sticks and balls than I ever was and seem satisfied with my feeble efforts to run and kick at the same time.
So why am I attracted to the toy section of the department store? I guess I'm looking for that special toy that will provoke the excitement my kids so easily feel at play. In the meantime, I will continue to follow the lead my children are eager for me to follow and I'll enjoy their toys as much as I can while they'll still share them with me.
Here we go...
Silly Mummy, Toys are for kids!
How silly am I? When I go out on a rare shopping trip alone, I usually get what I'm looking for in the first few minutes then spend the rest of the time browsing the toy or kids clothing aisles. When my kids aren't shopping with me, it is a bit of a relief, but even in their absence I'm thinking about them!
And so what if I am? Maybe part of the desire to look through the toy aisle is my own nostalgia and looking at toys for them gives me an excuse to reflect. Remembering the good times I had with my strawberry shortcake dolls, shrinky-dinks or pogo ball. With some rare exceptions, it is hard to recapture the fun I had on the playground with my friends as children. Clothing and accessories just don't do it for me!
Playing with my own kids is rewarding and fun in its own way, but often I'm distracted by safety concerns or what I have to do next (make dinner, do laundry, etc.) It's not as much fun when I'm trying to play in the sandbox with one child while pushing the other on the swing. Sometimes I'm even struck by my own ignorance. How do we play monster trucks?
I haven't yet found a real substitute for playing with toys as an adult (ahem, I don't mean "adult" toys here). Driving a van full of kids around isn't the same as driving a Barbie van full of Barbies to the Barbie house for a pool party with Ken. And home repairs are definitely not as thrilling as building something really cool with blocks.
If I enjoyed sports as a kid, I guess it may be equally as fun to play sports now. However, I didn't and I really don't. Fortunately, my kids are all better with sticks and balls than I ever was and seem satisfied with my feeble efforts to run and kick at the same time.
So why am I attracted to the toy section of the department store? I guess I'm looking for that special toy that will provoke the excitement my kids so easily feel at play. In the meantime, I will continue to follow the lead my children are eager for me to follow and I'll enjoy their toys as much as I can while they'll still share them with me.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
food
Oh boy, here we go... what is it with food?
Food for thought, food for life, food for fun, food for food's sake, food 'cause it's there in front of me. Food as a substitute for other things. Food!
Life would be simpler and blander without food. It would be both easier and harder. Require less thought, less action yet more of both because it is so much a part of our entertainment. When we gather, we eat. What we eat determines so much, like what we drink and who we're with and what we're doing. Food!
Eat too much, gain weight. Eat the wrong things, gain weight or get sick. Eat the same thing every day, get bored or get sick. Eat nothing, get sick. Eat all the time, gain weight, get sick. Food!
Food for the body. Food for the soul. Food for the laughter. Food for the comfort. Food!
Food for thought, food for life, food for fun, food for food's sake, food 'cause it's there in front of me. Food as a substitute for other things. Food!
Life would be simpler and blander without food. It would be both easier and harder. Require less thought, less action yet more of both because it is so much a part of our entertainment. When we gather, we eat. What we eat determines so much, like what we drink and who we're with and what we're doing. Food!
Eat too much, gain weight. Eat the wrong things, gain weight or get sick. Eat the same thing every day, get bored or get sick. Eat nothing, get sick. Eat all the time, gain weight, get sick. Food!
Food for the body. Food for the soul. Food for the laughter. Food for the comfort. Food!
Monday, March 22, 2010
story
Once upon a time...
It was a dark and stormy night...
In the beginning there was the word...
Is the beginning of the story the most important part? Does it determine how we'll proceed through the middle to the end? If it starts off intense, can be bear the rest of it? If begins boring, are we going to make it to the middle or the end?
Then there's the middle. Does it build to a climatic ending? Does is deliver in-depth character development? Does it lead us to the end? Do we get lost? Do we put it down after each chapter or keep reading til we can't keep our eyes open?
The ending can wrap the story up neatly tying all the loose ends or leave us hanging wanting more. It can make us think for days or weeks or prepare us for the sequel or the movie.
Our lives are stories. We see this literary comparison in so many places. Stories of lives are bestsellers, tabloid covers, documentaries, reality TV. Most of us can't imagine having our lives published. Who would read about us? Who would watch us on TV? youtube and the blogosphere have brought our life stories more closely to public. When we update our status on facebook, we communicate something of our daily story to our friends and family. The plot may be thin, but it fills in over time.
I love to hear people's stories. Some of my favourite programs on the radio (I listen to CBC almost all day when I'm at home) revolve around stories of people's lives: Living Out Loud, the Next Chapter, and anything on Q.
My story began when I was born and developed as I did into a girl, a young woman and now a woman (I won't say older, yet). I was first a baby, then a child, then a teen, then a mom. Now a wife and a mom times 3 (7 if you count the pets and I don't count my husband because that would be too easy for him). I went to school, graduated a few times, worked and then stayed home.
Weaving all these parts together has taken more than 30 years and will take a few more decades before a complete picture appears. I have yet to figure out who authored my story. Some days I think I'm the author and other days I am just a character in someone else's story. Either way, I don't know where the story is going or where it ends.
I'm still not sure whether it's the beginning, middle or end of the story that's the most important.
The plaque on my wall: Home is where your story begins.
It was a dark and stormy night...
In the beginning there was the word...
Is the beginning of the story the most important part? Does it determine how we'll proceed through the middle to the end? If it starts off intense, can be bear the rest of it? If begins boring, are we going to make it to the middle or the end?
Then there's the middle. Does it build to a climatic ending? Does is deliver in-depth character development? Does it lead us to the end? Do we get lost? Do we put it down after each chapter or keep reading til we can't keep our eyes open?
The ending can wrap the story up neatly tying all the loose ends or leave us hanging wanting more. It can make us think for days or weeks or prepare us for the sequel or the movie.
Our lives are stories. We see this literary comparison in so many places. Stories of lives are bestsellers, tabloid covers, documentaries, reality TV. Most of us can't imagine having our lives published. Who would read about us? Who would watch us on TV? youtube and the blogosphere have brought our life stories more closely to public. When we update our status on facebook, we communicate something of our daily story to our friends and family. The plot may be thin, but it fills in over time.
I love to hear people's stories. Some of my favourite programs on the radio (I listen to CBC almost all day when I'm at home) revolve around stories of people's lives: Living Out Loud, the Next Chapter, and anything on Q.
My story began when I was born and developed as I did into a girl, a young woman and now a woman (I won't say older, yet). I was first a baby, then a child, then a teen, then a mom. Now a wife and a mom times 3 (7 if you count the pets and I don't count my husband because that would be too easy for him). I went to school, graduated a few times, worked and then stayed home.
Weaving all these parts together has taken more than 30 years and will take a few more decades before a complete picture appears. I have yet to figure out who authored my story. Some days I think I'm the author and other days I am just a character in someone else's story. Either way, I don't know where the story is going or where it ends.
I'm still not sure whether it's the beginning, middle or end of the story that's the most important.
The plaque on my wall: Home is where your story begins.
Friday, March 19, 2010
independence/independents
Every day I am teaching my kids to be independent. Working toward freedom of dependence on me. It has always seemed important to do this because my ultimate goal of parenthood to to one day be independent myself. That is, free of dependents. Is this attainable?
Eventually my kids will all be able to tie their shoes, do up their zippers, make their own food, wipe their own bums. It's easy to focus on these physical milestones. However, the emotional ones seem so much harder.
Last night, Kenneth got up at midnight and didn't want to go back to bed by himself. I agreed to lie with him until he fell asleep. At 2:30 am, I groggily left his bed and slid into my own. Less than 5 minutes later he followed me, tossing and turning the rest of the night until my alarm woke us at 7 am. Needless to say, we are both tired today. How do I get him to sleep independently? Over the last 5 years, we have followed all the advice of the parenting magazines and books to no avail. He wants to be right beside me!
Morgan used to crawl into bed with me too and now he's a teenager and goes to bed whenever he wants. I'm not sure I like this any better. At least he can go to bed by himself and doesn't require someone to lie with him (hint: it wouldn't be me!) He is actually quite happy to rely on me to make him food and drive him places. He's in no hurry to be independent.
With Lillian, we established independent sleep habits early. It is so nice to put her to bed and walk away. I wonder if she'll be the most independent of our children.
Ironically, it was my fierce independence that drove me into parenthood. I thought I was more grown-up than I was and tried to play the part. So what happens when the goal is reached? When I no longer need to brush their teeth, kiss their ouchies or make them supper. What will I do with my independence? I hope that I'll get a chance to find out before my parents or Frank needs me to look after them!
Eventually my kids will all be able to tie their shoes, do up their zippers, make their own food, wipe their own bums. It's easy to focus on these physical milestones. However, the emotional ones seem so much harder.
Last night, Kenneth got up at midnight and didn't want to go back to bed by himself. I agreed to lie with him until he fell asleep. At 2:30 am, I groggily left his bed and slid into my own. Less than 5 minutes later he followed me, tossing and turning the rest of the night until my alarm woke us at 7 am. Needless to say, we are both tired today. How do I get him to sleep independently? Over the last 5 years, we have followed all the advice of the parenting magazines and books to no avail. He wants to be right beside me!
Morgan used to crawl into bed with me too and now he's a teenager and goes to bed whenever he wants. I'm not sure I like this any better. At least he can go to bed by himself and doesn't require someone to lie with him (hint: it wouldn't be me!) He is actually quite happy to rely on me to make him food and drive him places. He's in no hurry to be independent.
With Lillian, we established independent sleep habits early. It is so nice to put her to bed and walk away. I wonder if she'll be the most independent of our children.
Ironically, it was my fierce independence that drove me into parenthood. I thought I was more grown-up than I was and tried to play the part. So what happens when the goal is reached? When I no longer need to brush their teeth, kiss their ouchies or make them supper. What will I do with my independence? I hope that I'll get a chance to find out before my parents or Frank needs me to look after them!
Saturday, March 13, 2010
the Writer
the Writer looks inside searching for those perfect words to express universal thoughts, feelings, sensations, expectations.
the Writer looks outside searching for inspiration to feed the appetite of self-expression.
the Writer looks to others to research their experiences and their desires for literature.
the Writer looks at the printed word searching for errors, omissions, superfluity.
the Writer knows there is a story before it is written.
the Writer looks outside searching for inspiration to feed the appetite of self-expression.
the Writer looks to others to research their experiences and their desires for literature.
the Writer looks at the printed word searching for errors, omissions, superfluity.
the Writer knows there is a story before it is written.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Memory
I'm either just getting older or I've got too much on my mind! My memory is failing. I forget things. It's really irritating.
Today I forgot at least 2 things that I regret. I forgot to give a little boy his birthday present (he didn't realize I'd forgotten something, but I did) and I forgot to send something to my neighbour when I almost forgot to send her son home! Geez...
One of the blogs I follow is by a scrapbooker (Hi Amanda). She does amazing things with photos, ribbons, etc. She is preserving memories. I must ask her one day where she keeps all the pages she does because it must accumulate pretty quickly.
Memory is a funny thing. It's weird that our memories of events, places and people change over time. The day after we see something or someone, we may remember it vividly. A week later we may not remember it at all.
My longterm memory isn't great either. I know people who can remember each milestone their child achieved and when it happened. It all seems a blur to me!
I hope that my ability to remember doesn't get worse as I get older or at least that I'm not aware of it. I feel so bad when I forget!
Today I forgot at least 2 things that I regret. I forgot to give a little boy his birthday present (he didn't realize I'd forgotten something, but I did) and I forgot to send something to my neighbour when I almost forgot to send her son home! Geez...
One of the blogs I follow is by a scrapbooker (Hi Amanda). She does amazing things with photos, ribbons, etc. She is preserving memories. I must ask her one day where she keeps all the pages she does because it must accumulate pretty quickly.
Memory is a funny thing. It's weird that our memories of events, places and people change over time. The day after we see something or someone, we may remember it vividly. A week later we may not remember it at all.
My longterm memory isn't great either. I know people who can remember each milestone their child achieved and when it happened. It all seems a blur to me!
I hope that my ability to remember doesn't get worse as I get older or at least that I'm not aware of it. I feel so bad when I forget!
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Pride
I am so proud of Frank! He is almost finished his MBA. It's been a tremendous amount of work for him and has required much support from his wife! It's not easy to take on extra work and pressure with constantly competing priorities. One more course to go. Good job honey!
It's surprising sometimes to realize what little things can fill you with pride. My kids things daily that I am proud of. Anything from playing alone for more than 5 minutes to accomplishing something new. The things that make me most proud are when they demonstrate that they're developing their "soft skills". Sharing, showing empathy and kindness, etc.
I'm proud of myself, too. Proud that I can honestly say that I stay true to myself. It can be hard to resist outside influences and pressures to do things that I really don't want to do (go back to work for example), but I know that I will look back at this time and be pleased and proud that I chose to stay home.
It's surprising sometimes to realize what little things can fill you with pride. My kids things daily that I am proud of. Anything from playing alone for more than 5 minutes to accomplishing something new. The things that make me most proud are when they demonstrate that they're developing their "soft skills". Sharing, showing empathy and kindness, etc.
I'm proud of myself, too. Proud that I can honestly say that I stay true to myself. It can be hard to resist outside influences and pressures to do things that I really don't want to do (go back to work for example), but I know that I will look back at this time and be pleased and proud that I chose to stay home.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Sun
Light up my face, my life
Brighten my day, my way
Leave the shadows where they fall
Make rainbows in the clouds
Create joy, enlightenment
Let me feel warmth, see sparkles
Dry me off, lift my spirits
Give me energy, help me sleep
Shine
Brighten my day, my way
Leave the shadows where they fall
Make rainbows in the clouds
Create joy, enlightenment
Let me feel warmth, see sparkles
Dry me off, lift my spirits
Give me energy, help me sleep
Shine
Friday, March 5, 2010
Fear
This is a heavy one. I fear that I fear more than I let myself admit. I block it out, but fear is probably the biggest motivator in our lives. It's stronger than our ambition much of the time. We decide not to do things more than we decide to do them. Fear holds us back. Fear is irrational most of the time. Most Canadians do not fear for their lives on a daily basis. Yet, we stop ourselves from making changes and finding a new direction because we fear the unknown or even sometimes the known. Fear keeps us up at night. Fear drives us to sacrifice our truths. Fear tells us we can't.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Style
What's my style?
Such a simple question yet hard to for me to answer. I've never been that good to following the trends. I've always tried to look good. I've gotten a compliment here and there and no one's ever really said I look bad.
So how does a stay-at-home mom of a teenager and two preschoolers get or stay stylish? The first problem that comes to mind is my budget. As any parent of a teenager knows, their clothes cost a lot and go out of favour quickly resulting in more money spent on their clothes than the rest of the family's put together! When I do go shopping for myself, half the time I don't even know my own size.
The most important thing about anything I wear has to be comfort. I need to be warm enough, be able to bend over without embarrassing parts of my body being revealed and I need to be washable. My mainstay is jeans, though sometimes I opt for cotton pants if I'm going somewhere other than playgroup or the grocery store. Sweaters in the winter. T-shirts in the summer. I also have a few blouses to change things up a bit when I'm bored of everything else. When I want to get dressed-up, I have a very limited selection from my working days that is probably way out of date. These occasions happen so infrequently that it doesn't seem worth it to buy new clothes.
Every once in a while I wonder what the point is. Why even change out of my pajamas? Who's going to see me? We all need jammy days, but what I've noticed is that at the end of the day, I don't feel great. I feel much more ready to greet the day when I'm showered, coiffed and dressed- even if it's only jeans and a sweater.
I guess my style is mommy-comfort with a little clueless-about-fashion on the side.
Such a simple question yet hard to for me to answer. I've never been that good to following the trends. I've always tried to look good. I've gotten a compliment here and there and no one's ever really said I look bad.
So how does a stay-at-home mom of a teenager and two preschoolers get or stay stylish? The first problem that comes to mind is my budget. As any parent of a teenager knows, their clothes cost a lot and go out of favour quickly resulting in more money spent on their clothes than the rest of the family's put together! When I do go shopping for myself, half the time I don't even know my own size.
The most important thing about anything I wear has to be comfort. I need to be warm enough, be able to bend over without embarrassing parts of my body being revealed and I need to be washable. My mainstay is jeans, though sometimes I opt for cotton pants if I'm going somewhere other than playgroup or the grocery store. Sweaters in the winter. T-shirts in the summer. I also have a few blouses to change things up a bit when I'm bored of everything else. When I want to get dressed-up, I have a very limited selection from my working days that is probably way out of date. These occasions happen so infrequently that it doesn't seem worth it to buy new clothes.
Every once in a while I wonder what the point is. Why even change out of my pajamas? Who's going to see me? We all need jammy days, but what I've noticed is that at the end of the day, I don't feel great. I feel much more ready to greet the day when I'm showered, coiffed and dressed- even if it's only jeans and a sweater.
I guess my style is mommy-comfort with a little clueless-about-fashion on the side.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Water
Water, water, water
Life-giving, life-taking
Powerful, beautiful
Rain, rivers, lakes, oceans
Water, water, water
Drink, swim
Cook, clean
Wash, bathe
Water, water, water
Puddles, floods
Spills, streams
Endless, scarce
Water, water, water
Life-giving, life-taking
Powerful, beautiful
Rain, rivers, lakes, oceans
Water, water, water
Drink, swim
Cook, clean
Wash, bathe
Water, water, water
Puddles, floods
Spills, streams
Endless, scarce
Water, water, water
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Poop
Forgive me. It's just so much a part of my life these days.
Last night I spent 30 minutes in the bathroom with my 2 year-old at 2 am waiting for it. She was very cute. Talking the whole time about the little things in life ("mommy is Danielle, Kenneth is meemo. That's my towel, etc". Well, the poop never came, but the moment is forever in my memory.
Every other day, my cat poops outside her litter box. I scoop it frequently and she doesn't seem to have anything wrong with her so I can only assume she is protesting that we let the dogs in to watch TV with us in the evening.
I can't possible write about poop without mentioning the seemingly constant stream of potty humour that comes out my 5 year-old son. Does it ever get old for them? My husband still laughs about farts so I guess there's no hope. It's just such a drag that he gets timeouts at school because he can't control himself!
I also have to laugh at myself here. Because I know that I've used the word poop as a substitute for other words that I'd rather not use around my kids.
Oh poop!
Last night I spent 30 minutes in the bathroom with my 2 year-old at 2 am waiting for it. She was very cute. Talking the whole time about the little things in life ("mommy is Danielle, Kenneth is meemo. That's my towel, etc". Well, the poop never came, but the moment is forever in my memory.
Every other day, my cat poops outside her litter box. I scoop it frequently and she doesn't seem to have anything wrong with her so I can only assume she is protesting that we let the dogs in to watch TV with us in the evening.
I can't possible write about poop without mentioning the seemingly constant stream of potty humour that comes out my 5 year-old son. Does it ever get old for them? My husband still laughs about farts so I guess there's no hope. It's just such a drag that he gets timeouts at school because he can't control himself!
I also have to laugh at myself here. Because I know that I've used the word poop as a substitute for other words that I'd rather not use around my kids.
Oh poop!
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