So, tonight Logan asked me if America's Funniest Videos (AFV) were on. I told him at four that they were on in a hour. Logan loves that show. He laughs and laughs and sometimes he over does it, but its to funny to watch him. He really loves the animal and kids videos. He dies over those!
Five o'clock rolls around, and I turn it on. Little did I know I would traumatize my 22 month old!
She was alright for most of it, with a few exceptions, but when they got to the montage with people falling off the roofs, she was in my lap crying "NO MOMMY!!" I couldn't help it. I laughed.
Then there was the little kid who ate the cricket!! EWWW!! Olivia cried so much.
They showed a clip of a little boy who took off his mask at Hallowe'en and had a bogie coming out of his nose. An albeit nasty large one, nothing I haven't encountered with my own children, but for some reason my "EWWWWie" was met with a great long wail of protest.
I hope this isn't a sign of things to come. I've always known she was a sensitive little soul. She has cried when other babies cry since she was very small, like around three months old. We once heard a baby in Walmart and he was at the other end of the store, heading our way. She was about six months old in a shopping cart, looking around me for the baby, whimpering. I had to let her know that he was alright and his mommy would help him out as soon as she could. That helped. When the family finally passed us, she was in quite a conundrum. Get upset, or wait to see if his mommy attended to him? They left the store.
She's taken to hearing a child cry and say "Mommy help baby." (Meaning, their mommy will help them.) It seems to make her feel better.
But this is a new manifestation. And I have to say, a funny one at that. I know. I'm belittling her feelings, but she's 22 months old, I never said "Oh sweetie, don't cry!" I just asked her why she was crying.
My sweet girl. She's going to get trampled as she gets older. I guess she's more like her mommy than anyone thought. I'm fairly sensitive too. I might laugh it off at the time, but I can tell you, when something bugs me, it keeps me awake! I fret, I fuss, I worry, I think "Oh, if I had only just not said that!!" I've gotten better though. I don't worry about other people as much. My children, my husband, my home. Those are my primary concerns!
So I guess, she's gonna get banged up a bit. She's gonna be hurt. But I'll be there to help her move forward and get past those things. Because I've been there. That's my life!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
They Grow UP Too Fast
Logan and I are sitting in the living room watching "The Hills".
Alright, I'll let you swallow your choking laugh. I watch "The Hills". Don't judge too harshly. Sometimes, something incredibly shallow can be an indulgent guilty pleasure that I like to imbibe in. (Big words, while watching a shallow show. It's a juggling act.)
Logan looks at me "I have hair under my arms" Then he lifts his arm to pull his sleeve up to show me.
"Sorry bud. You won't have hair under your arms for a LONG time."
"Oh." Earlier, he was telling me his tooth was getting loose!! I'm not ready for this stuff yet. He JUST turned five!!
God. Don't grow up too fast!!
Alright, I'll let you swallow your choking laugh. I watch "The Hills". Don't judge too harshly. Sometimes, something incredibly shallow can be an indulgent guilty pleasure that I like to imbibe in. (Big words, while watching a shallow show. It's a juggling act.)
Logan looks at me "I have hair under my arms" Then he lifts his arm to pull his sleeve up to show me.
"Sorry bud. You won't have hair under your arms for a LONG time."
"Oh." Earlier, he was telling me his tooth was getting loose!! I'm not ready for this stuff yet. He JUST turned five!!
God. Don't grow up too fast!!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
He's Now Five
My "little" man is five. Five.
Wow.
Where does it go? Seriously. I guess it won't be much til I'm sitting here writing "So...My "little man" is twenty. Twenty!"
It's going to go by faster than I can imagine.
Five years ago, I never thought that I'd be a stay at home mom. I'd dreamt of it. Thought that it would be easier for me, less expensive and better for myself and kids to be home with them. Then I'm with them. I don't miss anything, I don't miss them. But I really figured it would be a pipe dream.
Well. Here we are. Five years. Five years I've been home with this little bundle of joy that instills in me so much love, worry, frustration, wonder, anger and joy. All in one day. Sometimes in one hour. Man...kids are crazy! Time is crazy! I think there are times I'm going crazy.
My Logan had a good day. We started at McDonalds for breakfast. Unhealthy, considering my overweight blog last night, but still. It's his day. His choice.
Then we went to playgroup. Had fun, played, sang, caught up with people we hadn't seen in a while. It was good. The kids love the playgroups. But mornings, they don't love me. So we do mostly afternoon playgroups. This one in particular on Thursday mornings I do make a bigger effort to make outside of most mornings.
We had a couple hours to kill between playgroups. Thursdays can be incredibly busy, but we manage. I figured, let's go to Toys R Us. In theory, a great idea, because I can get Logan something ON his birthday that I KNOW he will love. So of course...Logan picked out a Transformer. Shocking eh? But what I'd forgotten is, Olivia's old enough to know when she's left out, but not old enough to understand why. So Olivia got a new baby. So, all was good, all were happy. All couldn't wait to take them out of the box WHILE we were still in Toys R Us. So, I started taking them out of the box, but they took so long to remove, well packed. Here I am, standing at the end of a till, taking the toys out of the boxes, fighting with the packing that they do. It's crazy. Of course, I could feel the stares of the other people in the line up watching me fight with these boxes, probably wondering what type of control my kids have over me that they can't wait until at least the car! Well...it was Logan's birthday. Forget it. I was going to get them out. So I took the rest of the packing, walked out, threw it in the garbage can and finished taking Lo's toys out of his packing. Screw em...they're my kids. I could have made them wait. I chose not to.
(For his birthday, his gift from Mommy and Daddy will be a loft bed. We want him to have more space in his room. We're just torn between which bed we want to get him. Perhaps I will post the choices. People can let me know what they think.)
Then we went to our second playgroup that's by far and wide the kids favorite. They have a gym there and the older kids go into the gym with the facilitators and the babies stay with us mommies where we chat and in some cases, rest our eyes. It's nice. I love it.
We stopped at Safeway, got ourselves each a HUGE decadent cupcake and some hamburgers that I offered to cook outside. Yeah. I offered to bbq these burgers outside in the north wind at -1...with a windchill...but for my son, anything.
We ate our decadent cupcakes with relish and I took a few pictures of them. It was wonderful. Then after that, bathtime, bedtime. And here I sit, making sure that I write down what my son's fifth birthday was.
I think that there are some years of life that are so important in our development. Five is a big one. Five means school, means a little bit more maturity, means chores. Means a bit of responsibility and the time to learn to do things like tie our shoes and ride a bike. Five seems to be a major time for a kid. It feels like a big one to me. Soon, ten, then fifteen, sixteen, eighteen, twenty. It's not all that far off.
But I'd like to hold on to my little baby for just a teensy bit longer. Just hold on and not let go until I have to. As much as I can't wait to see what happens in the next fifteen, twenty five, forty years, I really want my son to stay little just a while longer. There's going to be a day he won't want to cuddle or hold my hand. His independence can be such a great relief sometimes, but at the same time, such a sadness grips me because I know he doesn't need me like he used to. And it's only natural...it's normal. I know.
This is as it should be. And as it will be. I will never stop him from being who he needs to be. I'll never discourage his independence...but I still want him to know that whenever he needs me, needs to lean on me, needs me to be his rock, his shoulder to cry on...whatever he needs, I will always ALWAYS be his mommy.
Transformers or not! :)
Wow.
Where does it go? Seriously. I guess it won't be much til I'm sitting here writing "So...My "little man" is twenty. Twenty!"
It's going to go by faster than I can imagine.
Five years ago, I never thought that I'd be a stay at home mom. I'd dreamt of it. Thought that it would be easier for me, less expensive and better for myself and kids to be home with them. Then I'm with them. I don't miss anything, I don't miss them. But I really figured it would be a pipe dream.
Well. Here we are. Five years. Five years I've been home with this little bundle of joy that instills in me so much love, worry, frustration, wonder, anger and joy. All in one day. Sometimes in one hour. Man...kids are crazy! Time is crazy! I think there are times I'm going crazy.
My Logan had a good day. We started at McDonalds for breakfast. Unhealthy, considering my overweight blog last night, but still. It's his day. His choice.
Then we went to playgroup. Had fun, played, sang, caught up with people we hadn't seen in a while. It was good. The kids love the playgroups. But mornings, they don't love me. So we do mostly afternoon playgroups. This one in particular on Thursday mornings I do make a bigger effort to make outside of most mornings.
We had a couple hours to kill between playgroups. Thursdays can be incredibly busy, but we manage. I figured, let's go to Toys R Us. In theory, a great idea, because I can get Logan something ON his birthday that I KNOW he will love. So of course...Logan picked out a Transformer. Shocking eh? But what I'd forgotten is, Olivia's old enough to know when she's left out, but not old enough to understand why. So Olivia got a new baby. So, all was good, all were happy. All couldn't wait to take them out of the box WHILE we were still in Toys R Us. So, I started taking them out of the box, but they took so long to remove, well packed. Here I am, standing at the end of a till, taking the toys out of the boxes, fighting with the packing that they do. It's crazy. Of course, I could feel the stares of the other people in the line up watching me fight with these boxes, probably wondering what type of control my kids have over me that they can't wait until at least the car! Well...it was Logan's birthday. Forget it. I was going to get them out. So I took the rest of the packing, walked out, threw it in the garbage can and finished taking Lo's toys out of his packing. Screw em...they're my kids. I could have made them wait. I chose not to.
(For his birthday, his gift from Mommy and Daddy will be a loft bed. We want him to have more space in his room. We're just torn between which bed we want to get him. Perhaps I will post the choices. People can let me know what they think.)
Then we went to our second playgroup that's by far and wide the kids favorite. They have a gym there and the older kids go into the gym with the facilitators and the babies stay with us mommies where we chat and in some cases, rest our eyes. It's nice. I love it.
We stopped at Safeway, got ourselves each a HUGE decadent cupcake and some hamburgers that I offered to cook outside. Yeah. I offered to bbq these burgers outside in the north wind at -1...with a windchill...but for my son, anything.
We ate our decadent cupcakes with relish and I took a few pictures of them. It was wonderful. Then after that, bathtime, bedtime. And here I sit, making sure that I write down what my son's fifth birthday was.
I think that there are some years of life that are so important in our development. Five is a big one. Five means school, means a little bit more maturity, means chores. Means a bit of responsibility and the time to learn to do things like tie our shoes and ride a bike. Five seems to be a major time for a kid. It feels like a big one to me. Soon, ten, then fifteen, sixteen, eighteen, twenty. It's not all that far off.
But I'd like to hold on to my little baby for just a teensy bit longer. Just hold on and not let go until I have to. As much as I can't wait to see what happens in the next fifteen, twenty five, forty years, I really want my son to stay little just a while longer. There's going to be a day he won't want to cuddle or hold my hand. His independence can be such a great relief sometimes, but at the same time, such a sadness grips me because I know he doesn't need me like he used to. And it's only natural...it's normal. I know.
This is as it should be. And as it will be. I will never stop him from being who he needs to be. I'll never discourage his independence...but I still want him to know that whenever he needs me, needs to lean on me, needs me to be his rock, his shoulder to cry on...whatever he needs, I will always ALWAYS be his mommy.
Transformers or not! :)
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Five Years Old
So. Tomorrow is my birthday. Sort of.
Tomorrow, it will be five years since I became a mommy. Five years since that 9 lb 15.2 oz 23 inch long baby boy named Logan came into my life and changed it forevermore. Nothing about me has ever been the same. It changed me so profoundly that I don't even feel like the same person I was five years ago. I'd bet that there are people out there who probably wouldn't know me from where I was that time ago. I've become more openminded, less naive, more patient, less willing to be used. I'm just a much happier person than I was. Motherhood is an amazing change. I often wonder if it's changed other women as profoundly as it did me. I KNOW it changes a woman...but I guess the degree is different for every woman.
And Logan. He's five. A five year old is an interesting creature. They still change almost daily in opinion, thought, language, likes, dislikes, loves, hates...nothing is the same! And as I say every single year...
I'm not ready to be the mom of a five year old!! Kindergarten! OMG! Amazing.
Tomorrow is going to be a good day. Tomorrow will be his day. To some degree, tomorrow will be my day too. I'm so happy for everything that has come my way in the past five years. I think that given where I am now, if you'd asked me "Where do you want to be in five years?" Or "Where do you see yourself in five years?"
Right where I am now!
And that's good enough for now. Hope the next five years will be even better!
Tomorrow, it will be five years since I became a mommy. Five years since that 9 lb 15.2 oz 23 inch long baby boy named Logan came into my life and changed it forevermore. Nothing about me has ever been the same. It changed me so profoundly that I don't even feel like the same person I was five years ago. I'd bet that there are people out there who probably wouldn't know me from where I was that time ago. I've become more openminded, less naive, more patient, less willing to be used. I'm just a much happier person than I was. Motherhood is an amazing change. I often wonder if it's changed other women as profoundly as it did me. I KNOW it changes a woman...but I guess the degree is different for every woman.
And Logan. He's five. A five year old is an interesting creature. They still change almost daily in opinion, thought, language, likes, dislikes, loves, hates...nothing is the same! And as I say every single year...
I'm not ready to be the mom of a five year old!! Kindergarten! OMG! Amazing.
Tomorrow is going to be a good day. Tomorrow will be his day. To some degree, tomorrow will be my day too. I'm so happy for everything that has come my way in the past five years. I think that given where I am now, if you'd asked me "Where do you want to be in five years?" Or "Where do you see yourself in five years?"
Right where I am now!
And that's good enough for now. Hope the next five years will be even better!
I'm Not The Only One
I know I'm not the only one. I know that I don't ever have to feel like I'm alone, because I'm not. Millions struggle with my problem. And yet, that's little comfort.
Hi. My name is Shevaun, and I'm overweight.
Bet you're not shocked. How many other men and women blog about weight? How many men and women complain about how hard it is to diet? Exercise? Will power?
I'm not going to complain or rationalize. I won't feel guilty, I won't bitch or complain. Why?
Because it's my fault!
**GASP!** A fat chick admitted it's HER fault? Oh MY God. Wow.
I see myself. I know what I ate the night before, the day before, the week before. I'm aware of what I put in my mouth. Because guess what? I'M THE ONE DOING IT!!! Wow hey? No one's forcing me to eat a bag of chips, two or four slices of pizza, whatever.
What do I do about it? Not much. Do I know how to change it? Yep. Of course I do. I was diabetic when I was pregnant with Olivia. I know the change in diet works fabulously. I came out of my pregnancy the same weight as going in! Okay...so all you mommies, hate me now. It's okay. I'm used to it.
However....
I'm heavier now. I like people trying to encourage me. "Oh...you've lost weight since I saw you last!" "Uh. I just saw you like two weeks ago. I'm not so sure." But thank you. Really. I do appreciate it.
Why am I heavier? I eat alot at night. I have little to do. Housework, kids...but no one to entertain me. Do I need someone to entertain me? Yes. Yes I do. I'm a highly social person. So I substitute it. I don't exercise enough. I'm aware. I do try to get out alot though. Parks, playgroups, malls. But little kids are not a good way to get lots of exercise. They don't move quite fast enough. I have a double stroller though.
Now that I have answered that question, will I change it? Um. I'll try. That's what I'm going to say. Noncommital? HELL YES! I'm not going to "commit" because that means that if I fail at some point, and I WILL fail at some point, I don't want someone going into this blog and literally quoting me.
"YOU SAID YOU WOULD!!" Bah...I said I'd try. And it's in black and white for all to see.
I plan to be out more because it's summer and there's lots to do. Last year, Olivia wasn't walking and so going to parks and stuff just wasn't that much fun. Sure. It was great for Logan, who could go and run and play, but poor little Olivia would just sit in her stroller and fuss. She wanted to go play. But she couldn't.
So here I sit. As usual. Thinking about it. Thinking about how good it would be for me to get there. To work at it. And then I see how much work it would be and it's so discouraging. Then I stop and realize, it's small steps. Just changing diet. I can do that. I'm not big on eating out anymore anyway. I hate the way I feel. I hate feeling guilty that I'm spending money on it. I hate feeling guilty period about it. Then...I can go for a walk. I walked around most of Hawerlak last night. That's a big park. I know that the circuit of Knottwood Road is just around 3kms. That's a decent walk. But I need the weather to improve...or at least even out! Gee! It's not fun!
I joined a gym. Do I go. Nah. They have childcare...good luck on getting in when you need to though. And when I went in, I got half of the circuit shown to me and then left alone. No one checked on me to make sure I wasn't having a coronary, or needed help or had questions. That was highly discouraging. No fun. Hated it. Don't want to go. And not because I didn't feel better afterwards, but because I don't want to be ignored. Don't want to go alone and didn't like the negative vibe. That was no fun. I want it to be fun.
Anyway. Like I said. No bitching. Just honesty. My doctor thinks I'm funny. I'm honest. It's weird for people. I'm sure they're so used to excuses. I try. I actually do. But I don't try too hard. I'm jolly...:) But this jolly girl's gotta get herself down to a spot that's healthy and good for the kids. It just sucks that there's so much stacked against me. Including the fact I just started birth control, which has thrown all sorts of things out of whack.
But know now...I KNOW! Believe me. I KNOW! It's all over tv, it's all over internet, it's all over radio and it's constantly in my face. I GET IT! And I will eventually get around to it.
Sooner than later I think...
Hi. My name is Shevaun, and I'm overweight.
Bet you're not shocked. How many other men and women blog about weight? How many men and women complain about how hard it is to diet? Exercise? Will power?
I'm not going to complain or rationalize. I won't feel guilty, I won't bitch or complain. Why?
Because it's my fault!
**GASP!** A fat chick admitted it's HER fault? Oh MY God. Wow.
I see myself. I know what I ate the night before, the day before, the week before. I'm aware of what I put in my mouth. Because guess what? I'M THE ONE DOING IT!!! Wow hey? No one's forcing me to eat a bag of chips, two or four slices of pizza, whatever.
What do I do about it? Not much. Do I know how to change it? Yep. Of course I do. I was diabetic when I was pregnant with Olivia. I know the change in diet works fabulously. I came out of my pregnancy the same weight as going in! Okay...so all you mommies, hate me now. It's okay. I'm used to it.
However....
I'm heavier now. I like people trying to encourage me. "Oh...you've lost weight since I saw you last!" "Uh. I just saw you like two weeks ago. I'm not so sure." But thank you. Really. I do appreciate it.
Why am I heavier? I eat alot at night. I have little to do. Housework, kids...but no one to entertain me. Do I need someone to entertain me? Yes. Yes I do. I'm a highly social person. So I substitute it. I don't exercise enough. I'm aware. I do try to get out alot though. Parks, playgroups, malls. But little kids are not a good way to get lots of exercise. They don't move quite fast enough. I have a double stroller though.
Now that I have answered that question, will I change it? Um. I'll try. That's what I'm going to say. Noncommital? HELL YES! I'm not going to "commit" because that means that if I fail at some point, and I WILL fail at some point, I don't want someone going into this blog and literally quoting me.
"YOU SAID YOU WOULD!!" Bah...I said I'd try. And it's in black and white for all to see.
I plan to be out more because it's summer and there's lots to do. Last year, Olivia wasn't walking and so going to parks and stuff just wasn't that much fun. Sure. It was great for Logan, who could go and run and play, but poor little Olivia would just sit in her stroller and fuss. She wanted to go play. But she couldn't.
So here I sit. As usual. Thinking about it. Thinking about how good it would be for me to get there. To work at it. And then I see how much work it would be and it's so discouraging. Then I stop and realize, it's small steps. Just changing diet. I can do that. I'm not big on eating out anymore anyway. I hate the way I feel. I hate feeling guilty that I'm spending money on it. I hate feeling guilty period about it. Then...I can go for a walk. I walked around most of Hawerlak last night. That's a big park. I know that the circuit of Knottwood Road is just around 3kms. That's a decent walk. But I need the weather to improve...or at least even out! Gee! It's not fun!
I joined a gym. Do I go. Nah. They have childcare...good luck on getting in when you need to though. And when I went in, I got half of the circuit shown to me and then left alone. No one checked on me to make sure I wasn't having a coronary, or needed help or had questions. That was highly discouraging. No fun. Hated it. Don't want to go. And not because I didn't feel better afterwards, but because I don't want to be ignored. Don't want to go alone and didn't like the negative vibe. That was no fun. I want it to be fun.
Anyway. Like I said. No bitching. Just honesty. My doctor thinks I'm funny. I'm honest. It's weird for people. I'm sure they're so used to excuses. I try. I actually do. But I don't try too hard. I'm jolly...:) But this jolly girl's gotta get herself down to a spot that's healthy and good for the kids. It just sucks that there's so much stacked against me. Including the fact I just started birth control, which has thrown all sorts of things out of whack.
But know now...I KNOW! Believe me. I KNOW! It's all over tv, it's all over internet, it's all over radio and it's constantly in my face. I GET IT! And I will eventually get around to it.
Sooner than later I think...
Monday, April 20, 2009
Life...
I live life. I live MY life. I was asked recently how happy I really am with Jeff being away and me being mommy all the time on my own when he's gone.
Okay. Here is it. And this is it. I'm not lying, rationalizing, anything. This is how my life is.
My life is good. No. Wait. My life is awesome. It's incredible. It's what I always wanted. Seriously. I always wanted to be a mom. I really never had aspirations of greatness. I have aspirations of RAISING greatness. My goal is to have beautiful, objective, openminded, questioning, free thinking individuals grow up in my home. To make sure my children grow up knowing that the thing their mother wanted more than anything, was for them to be happy, healthy, have their own lives and children.
I just wanted to live.
I've been told that what I'm doing is akin to being a single mom. Here's another thing I'd love to set straight. I am NOT a single mom. A single mom has it alot harder than I do. I have a partner who HAS to listen to me. Begrudgingly sometimes I'm sure. But he has to listen. My problems are his problems. My issues are his issues. My children are his children. And if you're reading this thinking "He doesn't HAVE to listen." Yes. He does. I will make sure he does. I am NOT doing this on my own. I just do it alone daily for a period of time. I still talk to him daily and let him know of our day. He can't discipline from a distance, but he can listen and support me and my decisions raising our children. We do it together. We just do it a bit differently from other families.
Unlike single moms I don't have to worry about going to work, make money and pay for daycare. I am daycare.
And yes. Being away from Jeff sucks. It does. I miss him. I miss his company, his sense of humor, his companionship. I am, however, always secure in the knowledge that he is coming home to me in a certain period of time. In the past year, that time period has varied, but we adjust and move forward. We have to. It's part of our lives. He works hard for us. He works to make sure that we're secure and happy. He works because it's what he does. What he will always do. It's part of him.
I enjoy the fact that we're not struggling. I love that I don't have to worry about where my next load of groceries are coming from. I love that I don't have to worry about where I'm going to get the next set of clothes for the kids as they grow rapidly out of everything. I love that I don't have to count every single penny, making sure that there's at least five dollars in the bank to get milk. Money does in some ways, buy happiness. It buys comfort, contentment and the ability to enjoy your life with less stress. I wonder if the people who say it doesn't hasn't experienced having a lack of funds.
When Jeff is home, he throws himself into the role of father and husband. He is there to help me along. I get reprieve. I don't get "I've been working for ten days. You get up with Olivia." I get a man who gets up with the kids in the mornings and allows me to sleep in quietly and enjoy a little peace. I get a man who lets me shower or sends me out with my friends because I need a little "me" time as well. At least when he's at work, his days end. When he's gone, I'm on call 24/7. I don't get alot of "me" time. I do what I can, and I make it work. I'm thankful for a husband who can and does understand. And I'm also aware I'm blessed and lucky. His working this way makes it easier for him to have those periods of time off. A week off is alot in the scope of a five year old's life. It means alot that he has whole days for seven days straight to spend with his son.
I was a bit depressed this winter. I've said that. Why was I depressed? I wasn't depressed because Jeff was away. I was depressed because I was stuck in a house during a nasty cold winter, with a one and four year old. Now...I missed him. To be sure. But alot of the time I miss the companionship. I miss the adult conversation. Sometimes a phone call from a friend can alleivate alot of those feelings.
And also know, Jeff and I have spent time apart in the past. I've found that it really does help a relationship, just to be apart for a period of time. In this past year, this has been an extended period of time, but like I said before, when he's home, it's actually a relief for me. Not added work. And it is far worse for other people. I don't have an army husband, being sent overseas for months at a time. Jeff's only gone for two weeks. Sometimes a bit longer and its hard, but it could be worse! Much worse! We'd cope, but it'd be hard! My hat's off to those moms. I don't think that our being together ALL the time would be best for our relationship. I think people do get tired of one another sometimes. And it does make the time we're together much more special. I know lots and lots of couples who have been married for decades, and they spent time apart because the husbands worked away from home. Maybe they're an example. At least they are for me. I know it works for us. I never entered this marriage deluding myself into thinking he was going to be home all the time. Given how he was raised and such, this was going to be part and parcel. And that was fine by me.
This isn't going to be forever. We will be together more as time goes on. I will hope that he will be able to find a job much closer to home as Logan grows. He needs his daddy. I can only do so much. And Olivia loves her daddy so much already. "Olivia, who calls you piglet?" "My dada. I call my dada pigit!" She will need him as she gets older as well. He will be a marvellous example to both of our children.
Honestly, I couldn't have asked for better. Better kids, better husband, a better life. For anyone who thinks otherwise, I'm extraordinarily happy. I'm content, I'm happy, I'm loved, I'm everything that anyone would want. I don't have a HUGE house, I don't have BIG tv's or anything else major. But I have Jeff. And I have Logan and Olivia. I have a nice little condo in Millwoods, stocked with food, cable, internet and whatever else I NEED.
Life is good. Life is grand...life is what Jeff and I have made it to be together.
What more could I ask for?
Okay. Here is it. And this is it. I'm not lying, rationalizing, anything. This is how my life is.
My life is good. No. Wait. My life is awesome. It's incredible. It's what I always wanted. Seriously. I always wanted to be a mom. I really never had aspirations of greatness. I have aspirations of RAISING greatness. My goal is to have beautiful, objective, openminded, questioning, free thinking individuals grow up in my home. To make sure my children grow up knowing that the thing their mother wanted more than anything, was for them to be happy, healthy, have their own lives and children.
I just wanted to live.
I've been told that what I'm doing is akin to being a single mom. Here's another thing I'd love to set straight. I am NOT a single mom. A single mom has it alot harder than I do. I have a partner who HAS to listen to me. Begrudgingly sometimes I'm sure. But he has to listen. My problems are his problems. My issues are his issues. My children are his children. And if you're reading this thinking "He doesn't HAVE to listen." Yes. He does. I will make sure he does. I am NOT doing this on my own. I just do it alone daily for a period of time. I still talk to him daily and let him know of our day. He can't discipline from a distance, but he can listen and support me and my decisions raising our children. We do it together. We just do it a bit differently from other families.
Unlike single moms I don't have to worry about going to work, make money and pay for daycare. I am daycare.
And yes. Being away from Jeff sucks. It does. I miss him. I miss his company, his sense of humor, his companionship. I am, however, always secure in the knowledge that he is coming home to me in a certain period of time. In the past year, that time period has varied, but we adjust and move forward. We have to. It's part of our lives. He works hard for us. He works to make sure that we're secure and happy. He works because it's what he does. What he will always do. It's part of him.
I enjoy the fact that we're not struggling. I love that I don't have to worry about where my next load of groceries are coming from. I love that I don't have to worry about where I'm going to get the next set of clothes for the kids as they grow rapidly out of everything. I love that I don't have to count every single penny, making sure that there's at least five dollars in the bank to get milk. Money does in some ways, buy happiness. It buys comfort, contentment and the ability to enjoy your life with less stress. I wonder if the people who say it doesn't hasn't experienced having a lack of funds.
When Jeff is home, he throws himself into the role of father and husband. He is there to help me along. I get reprieve. I don't get "I've been working for ten days. You get up with Olivia." I get a man who gets up with the kids in the mornings and allows me to sleep in quietly and enjoy a little peace. I get a man who lets me shower or sends me out with my friends because I need a little "me" time as well. At least when he's at work, his days end. When he's gone, I'm on call 24/7. I don't get alot of "me" time. I do what I can, and I make it work. I'm thankful for a husband who can and does understand. And I'm also aware I'm blessed and lucky. His working this way makes it easier for him to have those periods of time off. A week off is alot in the scope of a five year old's life. It means alot that he has whole days for seven days straight to spend with his son.
I was a bit depressed this winter. I've said that. Why was I depressed? I wasn't depressed because Jeff was away. I was depressed because I was stuck in a house during a nasty cold winter, with a one and four year old. Now...I missed him. To be sure. But alot of the time I miss the companionship. I miss the adult conversation. Sometimes a phone call from a friend can alleivate alot of those feelings.
And also know, Jeff and I have spent time apart in the past. I've found that it really does help a relationship, just to be apart for a period of time. In this past year, this has been an extended period of time, but like I said before, when he's home, it's actually a relief for me. Not added work. And it is far worse for other people. I don't have an army husband, being sent overseas for months at a time. Jeff's only gone for two weeks. Sometimes a bit longer and its hard, but it could be worse! Much worse! We'd cope, but it'd be hard! My hat's off to those moms. I don't think that our being together ALL the time would be best for our relationship. I think people do get tired of one another sometimes. And it does make the time we're together much more special. I know lots and lots of couples who have been married for decades, and they spent time apart because the husbands worked away from home. Maybe they're an example. At least they are for me. I know it works for us. I never entered this marriage deluding myself into thinking he was going to be home all the time. Given how he was raised and such, this was going to be part and parcel. And that was fine by me.
This isn't going to be forever. We will be together more as time goes on. I will hope that he will be able to find a job much closer to home as Logan grows. He needs his daddy. I can only do so much. And Olivia loves her daddy so much already. "Olivia, who calls you piglet?" "My dada. I call my dada pigit!" She will need him as she gets older as well. He will be a marvellous example to both of our children.
Honestly, I couldn't have asked for better. Better kids, better husband, a better life. For anyone who thinks otherwise, I'm extraordinarily happy. I'm content, I'm happy, I'm loved, I'm everything that anyone would want. I don't have a HUGE house, I don't have BIG tv's or anything else major. But I have Jeff. And I have Logan and Olivia. I have a nice little condo in Millwoods, stocked with food, cable, internet and whatever else I NEED.
Life is good. Life is grand...life is what Jeff and I have made it to be together.
What more could I ask for?
Twilight. Really?
I consider myself an avid reader. I'll read just about anything. Seriously, my mind is very open. Recently, thanks to my mother in law, I'm reading novels by Steve Berry. He writes very thoughtful books with a twist and some mystery. Like all writers with more than one book, he has a very definite style. If I had to pick a "popular" author, I could compare him to Dan Brown, the writer of "Da Vinci's Code" and "Angels and Demons" which I should add, I've read. And enjoyed. But not to the degree of Mr. Berry. His books are insightful, well written, and at the end, he explains what was real, what was his own creation. Dan Brown didn't. He let you read it, then you had to wade through all the information and pick out what was real and fiction. Which, let's face it, is fine. You can learn something perhaps. Form your own opinion. But the way the book was interpreted by the world was that of reality. And it made alot of people really upset because of what he was saying. Interesting thing about religion. It's subjective...not objective. Never, ever objective.
Anyway, I have to talk about this "Twilight" fanatiacism. Because that's what it's turned into. It's almost become it's own religion. It's insane. I've read the first book. Um...well. It was readable. A little too readable. I read it very quickly and came out of the book with a sense of "What? That's it?" I know I could go on and read the subsequent books, but after "What? That's it?" I'm not exactly enthused. I've gotten more satisfaction from reading trashy romances. At least they are as I expect them to be. Not overrated, just a book with a start, middle and end.
Now. I get why teenagers liked it. I do. I would have DIED over reading these books when I was 15, 16...maybe even up to 18 years old. Some of the language used is so nice. So pretty. So teenaged. The fantasies that teenaged girls the world around would die to hear from a boyfriend. I know that I'd have loved for a boy to tell me that the first time he saw me he knew he wanted to be with me forever. **SWOON!!**
But, I did, as most of us do, grow up. I moved onto other books. I went deeper into the books that I was told were the greatest books of our times. I waded through "Wuthering Heights" I tried Shakespeare for fun. It was fine. It was interesting. But I craved something that I could read and understand without researching what a word meant from the 1700's. I've read some decent books in the past few years. I've also read some real shit. I read Pamela Anderson's "Star". Cover to cover. I read it because my friend Heather said she'd read it if I read it. I READ it...she DIDN'T. I lost braincells man...precious, precious braincells. But hey...I know what bad writing is. I've experienced my share.
So when I read "Twilight" I really tried to figure out what the hype was about. It's a book. I was impressed and delighted when a very famous author totally echoed my feelings and mentioned that Stephanie Meyer is a secondrate author. I mean, I enjoyed "Twilight", to a degree. But I get who the target audience is for. It's pretty obvious. And you know what...that author who said that she is secondrate got BLASTED. Well...SHE IS!
But here's my point about "Twilight" and religion.
In religion, you have very little chance of telling a person they are wrong without them just freaking on you and trying to convince you that you're wrong. I'm not saying that ANY person's religion is wrong. What I'm saying is, express your opinion regarding religion (or politics for that matter...religion just fits better for this) and you can start a holy war. Which is silly. How in the world do you look at a person and say,
"Well, the God that I can't see, touch, smell, hear or taste doesn't exist." Religion is based truly and wholly on faith. Faith that you will come to the end of your life and meet an omnipotent God who will love you regardless of anything you've done in your life. That very God that protects your through your daily life. As I said, not exactly objective. It can't be objective because it's what YOU believe. It's based on your upbringing, it's based on where you are in your life, what you need, who you know. VERY subjective. It is what it is...a belief.
But, "Twilight" has taken on this fervour. This incredible fanaticism where total adults will swoon at just the very sight of Robert Pattinson. (who by the way, I feel looks like a pretentious "artist" douchebag who just wants to tell you and I that we're not good enough and he's better than all of us. He doesn't look exactly approachable!) Now, everyone is entitled to their opinion. Guess what. Well, they are!! Just because I DON'T like "Twilight", Robert Pattinson OR Stephanie Meyer does NOT make me a bad person. It makes me a person with my own taste.
And GLITTERING vampires? Really? This is what is at the heart of teenaged girls?? The romantic GLITTERING vampire. Huh. If I see a MAN wearing glitter, I have my own opinon. At least Anne Rice sticks to the lore. This book just drives it into the ground. How romantic is it that he can walk into the sunlight and NOT die, but GLITTER?! What the hell?! Glitter? Seriously. Okay...I'm past it.
Anyway...Find a book with some depth. Read a good book. Read a book with easy language that takes a day to read. Read whatever you want, but keep an open mind to other people who don't want to read your books. I make suggestions. You can read it and say, "I hated it!!" Okay. Fine. Then don't read the next book. I don't care. I won't attack you with my "OH MY GOD! HOW could you NOT love that book? It's incredible!!!" Nevermind. Do what you want, I will do what I want. Plain and simple. But don't try to convince me either. I only really ask that courtesy.
And hey...Thanks ahead of time!
Anyway, I have to talk about this "Twilight" fanatiacism. Because that's what it's turned into. It's almost become it's own religion. It's insane. I've read the first book. Um...well. It was readable. A little too readable. I read it very quickly and came out of the book with a sense of "What? That's it?" I know I could go on and read the subsequent books, but after "What? That's it?" I'm not exactly enthused. I've gotten more satisfaction from reading trashy romances. At least they are as I expect them to be. Not overrated, just a book with a start, middle and end.
Now. I get why teenagers liked it. I do. I would have DIED over reading these books when I was 15, 16...maybe even up to 18 years old. Some of the language used is so nice. So pretty. So teenaged. The fantasies that teenaged girls the world around would die to hear from a boyfriend. I know that I'd have loved for a boy to tell me that the first time he saw me he knew he wanted to be with me forever. **SWOON!!**
But, I did, as most of us do, grow up. I moved onto other books. I went deeper into the books that I was told were the greatest books of our times. I waded through "Wuthering Heights" I tried Shakespeare for fun. It was fine. It was interesting. But I craved something that I could read and understand without researching what a word meant from the 1700's. I've read some decent books in the past few years. I've also read some real shit. I read Pamela Anderson's "Star". Cover to cover. I read it because my friend Heather said she'd read it if I read it. I READ it...she DIDN'T. I lost braincells man...precious, precious braincells. But hey...I know what bad writing is. I've experienced my share.
So when I read "Twilight" I really tried to figure out what the hype was about. It's a book. I was impressed and delighted when a very famous author totally echoed my feelings and mentioned that Stephanie Meyer is a secondrate author. I mean, I enjoyed "Twilight", to a degree. But I get who the target audience is for. It's pretty obvious. And you know what...that author who said that she is secondrate got BLASTED. Well...SHE IS!
But here's my point about "Twilight" and religion.
In religion, you have very little chance of telling a person they are wrong without them just freaking on you and trying to convince you that you're wrong. I'm not saying that ANY person's religion is wrong. What I'm saying is, express your opinion regarding religion (or politics for that matter...religion just fits better for this) and you can start a holy war. Which is silly. How in the world do you look at a person and say,
"Well, the God that I can't see, touch, smell, hear or taste doesn't exist." Religion is based truly and wholly on faith. Faith that you will come to the end of your life and meet an omnipotent God who will love you regardless of anything you've done in your life. That very God that protects your through your daily life. As I said, not exactly objective. It can't be objective because it's what YOU believe. It's based on your upbringing, it's based on where you are in your life, what you need, who you know. VERY subjective. It is what it is...a belief.
But, "Twilight" has taken on this fervour. This incredible fanaticism where total adults will swoon at just the very sight of Robert Pattinson. (who by the way, I feel looks like a pretentious "artist" douchebag who just wants to tell you and I that we're not good enough and he's better than all of us. He doesn't look exactly approachable!) Now, everyone is entitled to their opinion. Guess what. Well, they are!! Just because I DON'T like "Twilight", Robert Pattinson OR Stephanie Meyer does NOT make me a bad person. It makes me a person with my own taste.
And GLITTERING vampires? Really? This is what is at the heart of teenaged girls?? The romantic GLITTERING vampire. Huh. If I see a MAN wearing glitter, I have my own opinon. At least Anne Rice sticks to the lore. This book just drives it into the ground. How romantic is it that he can walk into the sunlight and NOT die, but GLITTER?! What the hell?! Glitter? Seriously. Okay...I'm past it.
Anyway...Find a book with some depth. Read a good book. Read a book with easy language that takes a day to read. Read whatever you want, but keep an open mind to other people who don't want to read your books. I make suggestions. You can read it and say, "I hated it!!" Okay. Fine. Then don't read the next book. I don't care. I won't attack you with my "OH MY GOD! HOW could you NOT love that book? It's incredible!!!" Nevermind. Do what you want, I will do what I want. Plain and simple. But don't try to convince me either. I only really ask that courtesy.
And hey...Thanks ahead of time!
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