Holy Crap - That Can't Be Right?

Only one more week until School starts??? Where the hell have I been?

I realized yesterday that so much has been going on this summer that time has just sort of slipped through my fingers like so many grains of sand! We have had a really great summer, my daughter loving the camp she has been attending, making lots of fun projects. It's been so nice to drop her off in the mornings with a huge smile on her face and to pick her up seeing the same.

Time has flown by, but here are some of the hightlights:

We spent the first week of August (our only week's Holiday's together) on a trip to the East Coast with a dear friend. We had so much fun, and the time past all too quickly. I will have to post some details and pictures from that week... another time.

After 3 years - Single Mom has scored a new job at an exciting Advertising & Marketing Company, and my first day is the same as back to school day... Yippee! and then I realized when I was trying to figure out what time I should show up on my first day.... that I've totally forgotten to register my daughter for her After4 after school (daycare) program... I SO SUCK!

We are loving our new place, my daughter made a great new friend... Yeah! But... we just discovered she is moving (boo hoo) However the silver lining is that her grandparents live next door - so they will still be able to visit.

I am pleased to say that in March I started dating my best friend, and things are going incredibly well. We are meeting each others family and friends and that couldn't be going better. I am, and just as importantly my daughter, are both very happy.

My list is sounding a little... stilted... so I'm going to get back to work.. so I can't get fired... (LOL - in case you missed it... new job... so technically I CAN'T get fired) but in any case I have an hour and a half to go before the Friday afternoon festivities can begin

(sleepover with my sister-in law and my neice and nephew... yeah!)

Be back, and will write more soon

Have a great one!

Single Parent

Just when you think they are glad to be rid of you...

My daughter called tonight. She's only been gone since about the same time last night (8ish) and I could hear in her voice the unshed tears and unhappiness. I figured last week camp was a huge hit - but time at home with Mom wasn't terribly exciting. It wasn't all bad, we did go on a date to the movies, hit the pool Friday night, visit her cousins on Saturday and attend a family picnic yesterday - but still, most of the time we just hung out doing out own thing.

She was upset, and trying not to cry, she sounded so forlorn, and it's only day 1 of 8. It could be along week. She said she wished it was Wednesday, then changed her mind to Thursday - because then it would be more than halfway through her week with Dad.

I know he is off with her this week - and I would imagine he will spend some time doing some fun stuff with her. He usually scores major points with her for all the fun Dad type stuff he does with her. I don't know exactly what was on her mind. I know she thought they were going to visit his old girlfriend, go for burgers or something. She told me that's not going to happen now - and she sounded disappointed. I just wanted to be able to give her a big hug.

Sometimes it's so hard to know just what to do. I encouraged her to talk to her Dad, and plan a couple of things for the week together.

We will see - I didn't expect to hear from her so soon.

My little monkey...

Love you chicklet
Mom

It's Friday

It is Friday the 13th today. I have to tell you that I'm not feeling too good about it. Not that I am really superstitious or anything - it's just sometimes I'd prefer to have a little bit of luck on my side.

Yesterday morning I woke up at 6:30am after a terrible nights sleep. I had fallen asleep with the lights on, and awoke a few hours later after being stuck in an endless cycle of nightmares. The kind where your teeth fall out and you watch yourself turn into someone who looks like they ought to live on a street corner. The kind where all that you value and cherish in your life disappears before your eyes and you are helpless to do anything about it. I spent a night time and early morning having continuous dreams of this nature.

I woke up with a bad vibe and as the day continued it grew increasingly worse. Today, I have to say - I'm not feeling a whole lot better. But that aside - I have an amusing note to add.... I think I may be the worse kind of mother, the kind that steals candy from a babe.... ok - that may be a bad example (I don't think babies should HAVE candy in the first place!!).

My daughter lost her tooth yesterday morning. I'm not sure she really believes in the tooth fairy anymore as much as she believes in the tooney fairy! Off she went to bed last night, reminding me with every step up to her bedroom - where she had left the tooth - just so I would know.

I said "I dont need to know where your tooth is", to which she replied "Well I thought maybe you did, you know so you, could like tell or show the tooth fairy or something".

In any case - as I routed around in my wallet last night before going to bed, I found my last tooney before payday, and stuck it under the glass on the kitchen table (We don't do pillows and teeth in this house).

This morning - I realized that I have no milk in the house, and that I gave away the change I had budgeted out to buy my morning tea on the way to the office. I heard her counting her spoils this morning, and asked her how much money she had now.

"I have $13.60" she said proudly....

hmmmmm

"Do you think you could loan dear old Mom a dollar so that I can buy my tea this morning..."

"Sure - no problem Mom" she said with a smug look on her face. I knew what she was thinking - HAH - Mom needs money from me!

How BAD is that!!! I know I should probably feel guilty - but I don't. Mostly cause I know how others around me will suffer if it's not for my daily ingestion of tea!

Well the week is coming to a close, last day of the first week of "Bead Camp" (this is what she calls it), and a Friday before a much needed weekend. We have a big family picnic (aunt's, uncle's and cousin's) on Sunday, and they are calling for rain all day on Saturday - so not sure what kind of weekend it will be. But - any day that doesn't involve getting up early to go to work - is a good day in my books!

If I could wish for one thing - it would be that a particular someone - (you know who you are) would give me a call or drop by and let me know they are doing ok. A lot going on with a dear friend, and let me just say - I've been there and I know how hard things are.

Chat again soon

S.P.

It's all Mr. Roger's fault

I love this article - and agree with so many of the points the writer makes....

MOVING ON
By JEFF ZASLOW

Blame It on Mr. Rogers: Why
Young Adults Feel So Entitled
July 5, 2007; Page B5

Don Chance, a finance professor at Louisiana State University, says it dawned on him last spring. The semester was ending, and as usual, students were making a pilgrimage to his office, asking for the extra points needed to lift their grades to A's.

"They felt so entitled," he recalls, "and it just hit me. We can blame Mr. Rogers."
ONLINE TODAY

[Kids]
Forum: Join Jeffrey Zaslow and others in a discussion on parenting styles.

Fred Rogers, the late TV icon, told several generations of children that they were "special" just for being whoever they were. He meant well, and he was a sterling role model in many ways. But what often got lost in his self-esteem-building patter was the idea that being special comes from working hard and having high expectations for yourself.

Now Mr. Rogers, like Dr. Spock before him, has been targeted for re-evaluation. And he's not the only one. As educators and researchers struggle to define the new parameters of parenting, circa 2007, some are revisiting the language of child ego-boosting. What are the downsides of telling kids they're special? Is it a mistake to have children call us by our first names? When we focus all conversations on our children's lives, are we denying them the insights found when adults talk about adult things?

Some are calling for a recalibration of the mind-sets and catch-phrases that have taken hold in recent decades. Among the expressions now being challenged:

"You're special." On the Yahoo Answers Web site, a discussion thread about Mr. Rogers begins with this posting: "Mr. Rogers spent years telling little creeps that he liked them just the way they were. He should have been telling them there was a lot of room for improvement. ... Nice as he was, and as good as his intentions may have been, he did a disservice."

Signs of narcissism among college students have been rising for 25 years, according to a recent study led by a San Diego State University psychologist. Obviously, Mr. Rogers alone can't be blamed for this. But as Prof. Chance sees it, "he's representative of a culture of excessive doting."

Prof. Chance teaches many Asian-born students, and says they accept whatever grade they're given; they see B's and C's as an indication that they must work harder, and that their elders assessed them accurately. They didn't grow up with Mr. Rogers or anyone else telling them they were born special.

By contrast, American students often view lower grades as a reason to "hit you up for an A because they came to class and feel they worked hard," says Prof. Chance. He wishes more parents would offer kids this perspective: "The world owes you nothing. You have to work and compete. If you want to be special, you'll have to prove it."

"They're just children." When kids are rude, self-absorbed or disrespectful, some parents allow or endure it by saying, "Well, they're just children." The phrase is a worthy one when it's applied to a teachable moment, such as telling kids not to stick their fingers in electrical sockets. But as an excuse or as justification for unacceptable behavior, "They're just children" is just misguided.
[Mr. Rodgers]

"Call me Cindy." Is it appropriate to place kids on the same level as adults, with all of us calling each other by our first names? On one hand, the familiarity can mark a loving closeness between child and adult. But on the other hand, when a child calls an adult Mr. or Ms., it helps him recognize that status is earned by age and experience. It's also a reminder to respect your elders.

"Tell me about your day." It is crucial to talk to kids about their lives, and that dialogue can enrich the whole family. However, parents also need to discuss their own lives and experiences, says Alvin Rosenfeld, a Manhattan-based child psychiatrist who studies family interactions.

In America today, life often begins with the anointing of "His Majesty, the Fetus," he says. From then on, many parents focus their conversations on their kids. Today's parents "are the best-educated generation ever," says Dr. Rosenfeld. "So why do our kids see us primarily discussing kids' schedules and activities?"

He encourages parents to talk about their passions and interests; about politics, business, world events. "Because everything is child-centered today, we're depriving children of adults," he says. "If they never see us as adults being adults, how will they deal with important matters when it is their world?"

Last Year's Talent Show

Another Old Post - but a proud parental moment can always be relived:

Multi-cultural Night and Talent Show
June 15, 2006

It is with the pride that comes from being a parent that I write today. Last night my daughter's school held a Multi-Cultural Night and Talent Show.

Her school has a great variety of cultures - and nights like last night - give a place for all families to show pride in their cultural heritage. The evening started with an outdoor buffet style dinner - $2 per plate and the choices seemed endless. Families had prepared a great variety of cultural food dishes - each with a description and the flag from their country.

After my daughter and I had filled our plates we found a spot on the lawn to sit, eat, (while many introductions to friends were made) and wait for her Dad and her Grandmother to arrive.

I was very proud of my daughter's conduct, and pleased to see her so happy to introduce a great many of her friends to me throughout the course of the evening. The closest friends were all very polite, well spoken young ladies. 3 in particular that stand out.

My daughter's dad arrived just as her choir assembled outside to sing about 4-5 songs just prior to the start of the talent show. She did such a great job - with great expression, a clear voice, and a general happiness in her eyes at the opportunity to show off for the people she cares about.

I momentarily paused to consider how fortunate I was - that despite being divorced from her Dad since she was 3 (5 years now) that we were able to stand side by side with pride, watch our daughter, and know that despite everything else - we have done a very good job with her.

We then proceeded to go into the school's gymnasium - trying to scout out a spot near the front in order to have optimal viewing. Early in the evening after work - when my daughter and I were at home (only to discover our power had been out all afternoon and was not yet on) I gave her a pep talk and told her how proud I was of her. I printed out notes from my Mom and her Dad - wishing her luck and letting her know they were proud of her - and suggested she keep it in her pocket for luck.

After numerous other children, playing piano, singing, skipping, yo-yoing, karate moves, gymnastic routines etc - it was her turn. She walked right up onto that stage, stood in front of the microphone, smiled a nervous smile, and made eye-contact with her teacher, .... the music started and the clearest, high little voice started to sing in French, the following;

Au clair de la lune
Mon ami Pierrot.
Prête moi ta plume
Pour écrire un mot

Ma chandelle est morte,
Je n'ai plus de feu ;
Ouvre-moi ta porte
Pour l'amour de Dieu.
Which translates into English the following;

With the moonlight
My friend Pierrot.
Lend to me your feather
To write a word

My candle died,
I do not have any more fire;
Open-me your door
For the love of God.

She did such an amazing job - and she smiled at us both in the middle of her performance and with relief at the end as she took her bow.

We clapped and cheered with great pride.... it's moments like these that make all the hard work more than worthwhile. We walked her guests out to their car and said our goodbye's. I was shocked - my ex-mother-in law (that sounds a little harsh) even hugged me good-bye. Times they are a changing - and I must count my blessings where I find them.

What an evening!

The life of a Blogger

Ok - I have a tiny bit of catching up to do - and not all of it is going to happen right now - at 6:23 on a Thursday night while in the midst of doing 4 loads of laundry.

I used to write a blog, almost daily in fact, and it was like candy for my soul. It gave me a chance to vent, write, ponder and really purge my thoughts. I'll admit, not all of them were good or productive.

Around Christmas time last year - someone known to me discovered my blog, and used many of the things I'd written about, my thoughts, feelings etc, and twisted them in a way that was hurtful and unproductive. I pulled the blog. I lost my outlet.

Now I know - blogs are public domain, but essentially it's perfect strangers that read them - unless of course you divulge your blog address. I had indeed given a very small handful of people in my life, those in particular that encouraged me to write my stories, the address. It was at the time a useful and productive way for some of my closest friends to have a handle on what was going on in my life, and how I was coping.

In any case - I started a newer, less personal blog some months later, but it was never the same. It's kind of like going to summer camp and having the best time EVER and then returning the next summer to find it feels a little like someone else's used shoe. Not the same, not familiar, and not as good as your own well worked in sneaker. (do people even call them sneakers... lol).

In any case - tonight I pulled a couple of my best, or favourite posts, and put them here. You may notice the dates are older, and the references may be outdated, but they are my little stories.

When time permits, I may post a few more, I may not.... but I will continue to write into my future, the things that matter, the quotes I can relate to, and my moods of the moment.

Enjoy

Me!

And another - oldie but goodie....

Saturday, November 12, 2005
Raising an Eight Year Old Daughter

In an effort to maintain my sanity.... I have decided to blog my adventure's as a single parent.

I have a daughter. My daughter is eight. She is smart and funny and has a warm heart. She loves to sing and draw and a tazmanian-like whirl follow's in her wake. (Her bedroom is a prime example) She is the biggest joy of my life and I love her to death!

However.... she is currently possessed by a hormonal, teenage version of her future self, complete with attitude and a stubborn streak that outlasts my own.

We have been through many changes together in her very short life, which have involved several relocations. For a child this is a very distressing adventure. New homes, new schools, new friends, new anxieties. So a Mom can't really blame her child for experiencing adjustment issues right?

My daughter and I have both been experiencing some serious adjustment issues. I know as a parent consistency is key.... and I am consistent. She started a new school in the fall and seemed to make the adjustment well. She loves her teacher, has made some friends and has the luxury of a very small class. Sounds great right? Well - this year brought with it a fairly consistent homework load and an emphasis on math. MATH!

My daughter loathes math, and will find any way to avoid doing math homework that is humanly possible - short of the old standby - "the dog ate my homework" but that is only because we don't have a dog.... or any pets for that matter. The homework consistently gets left at school or if it makes it's way home.... the actual homework assigned is erased from the agenda - leaving me to ponder... "what exactly are you supposed to do for your homework?"

Ah and then the fun begins. I don't want to do homework, I don't feel like doing homework, I don't have to do homework, I did my homework at school, I don't understand my homework, I can't do my homework, I lost my pencil, I forgot my workbook, I don't have an eraser etc. If we ever get as far as starting the homework.... well then it goes something like this.... I don't get it, the teacher never explained it, the teacher spent the whole class explaining it and I don't understand it, I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, I have to go to the bathroom, I want to do my homework after supper, You just don't understand what it's like (Sound familiar Mom?) , blah, blah, blah

It's as if overnight I have turned from the "Best Mom in the Whole World" to the Mom from hell, who doesn't understand what it's like to be eight... The yelling, the tears, the slamming doors, the mouth, the rudeness and the lying, etc.... I am at my wits end!

So after many a sleepless night, and a few tearfull phone calls to my own parents (who while sympathetic, recall all too well what I was like as a child, I swear I can hear them chuckle under their breath sometimes), I decided that perhaps there were a few deeper issues that maybe contributing to the behavioural changes.... that my daughter was feeling unable to express - either because she is eight or because, she has learned from a young age to guard her feelings carefully.

Off to the Family and youth Counsellor we go.... the first couple of sessions went great, she listened she talked, she had some one on one time.... all good. So after the end of the second session my daughter says to me - Mom, I asked the counsellor if I could talk to him about problems other than my schoolwork... and he said yes, so I did and we had a really good talk and he even gave me some very helpful suggestions. I am feeling pretty pumped like perhaps we are scratching the surface, perhaps we are getting somewhere... so I ask "Well, do you want to share what you talked about?", and she says "My teeth! I told him I don't like my teeth and he said I should talk to my Dentist"..... well so much for scratching the surface.....

Until next time.
Mom

More old Blog Material

Friday, November 25, 2005
Goldfish, Fairy Dust, Life-sized Bunnies and the Jolly Old Elf - Are they Real?

“Mommy… how did you train the goldfish to float on it’s back with his eye’s closed in the toilet and how did he get there??”

“Mommy… what does the tooth fairy really do with all of the teeth she collects?”

“Mommy…. I don’t want the Easter Bunny to come into my room so close my door tight!”

“Mommy…. Is there really a Santa Clause?”

Hum…. The never ending parental questions, and the dilemma on exactly how far one can stretch the truth before being accused of lying to our Children. The fish is dead… yes it is a harsh reality and certainly not one I expected to have such an overwhelming impact on a 4 year old. You see the fish died, I raced to flush it down the toilet and broke the news to my daughter after daycare that day. This time – there had been no time to replace the 3rd Frances. Up until this point the timing had always allowed me to get a replacement fish before my daughter ever discovered the unfortunate death.

The conversation went something like this…. “I have some sad news…” To which her big brown eyes looked up at me and said with some trepidation “What?”, “Frances wasn’t doing very well and sadly went to fishy heaven”. Stupidly I never fully anticipated the dramatic reaction that then ensued. The tears, the loss of the best friend, the I am so sad, this is the saddest thing that has happened to me in my whole life and the crying went on for over 40 minutes. At which point I suggested a call to Grandma, as it was Grandma and Grandpa that had bought her the fish for her 3rd birthday. Grandma came up with the solution that perhaps we could go and pick out a new fish.

While the crying continued on the phone I had this sudden feeling that I better go check to make sure the fish had actually flushed in the morning. Much to my chagrin – the stupid thing was still floating in the bowl!!!!! Thank god my daughter hadn’t had her after school pee yet – or I would be considered forever a murderer!! I flushed…. Waited, and watched the fish do the upside down backstroke to the nearest sewer pipe! Whew!

We went off and bought a new fish – but it was never the same and the death of “Lettuce” was no where near as tragic.

Tooth Fairies – now in my daughter’s eyes the tooth fairy is cool, she leaves little notes and fairy dust and money…. And that’s alright. But what happens to the teeth? Well, perhaps they are strung into beautiful little necklaces…. “ewwwwwwwww Mom!!!! That’s soooo gross!”, uh ok… then maybe they are delivered to other children who don’t have any teeth? (that response didn’t get a much better reaction). In any case she doesn’t really care so much, as long as when the tooth falls out there is some money…. Of her very own!

The Easter Bunny is an altogether different story…. My daughter recalls an Easter when she was about 2, when the Easter Bunny left an awful mess of white paw prints all over our hardwood floor. She promptly got down on all fours, very indignant, and licked her wee little thumb and started to erase all of those tiny little prints, all the while scowling at the mess.

A few years later someone told my daughter that the Easter bunny is sooo big that his ears touch the ceiling. Well my daughter isn’t overly fond of the idea of a larger than life Rabbit that leaves a mess in it’s wake, tromping through our house, no matter what kind of eggs he may be leaving. I have very specific instructions to shut the door “tight – tight”. She in no way relishes the idea of opening her eyes to see an enormous bunny peering back at her, she doesn’t care what he has in his basket!!

Which brings me to my final point… one that is close to my heart. Jolly old Santa Claus… and Is he real?

As a child growing up, with three brothers, all of us at various ages and different stages of believing, my parent’s standard response to “Is Santa real” was this.

“As long as you believe in him… he is real. When you stop believing in him, he stops coming”

As a child, I was always afraid to not believe for fear of missing out. Of course eventually I figured it all out ... and by then it wasn’t earth shattering – I mean there were still presents after all… it’s just that they came from Mom and Dad.

When my daughter and I first moved to an apartment in a new town, we had only been there for a few weeks and had erected a very sad little four foot Christmas tree that had the top tied on with a piece of green coloured ribbon. The decorations were nice enough, however money was tight that year, and her brave front about how would Santa visit when we didn’t have a chimney, was a very real concern for her. Quite frankly, I had so much to worry about that I never really gave her any concrete answers.

One night while I was preparing our little dinner the two of us heard bells… jingle bells to be clear. Their gentle clear tinkle in the air was not to be mistaken. My darling daughter came to a skidding halt in the kitchen with her little hand cocked to her ear and said with eyes wide “Mom…. Can you hear that!” A moment later there was a knock on the door. I had no idea who it could be – I didn’t know anyone in our building other than our landlady – and we hadn’t been making any noise.

I went to the door, and my daughter shoved her head under my arm to see who it could be. I opened the door. I could not believe my eyes…… there before me, in all his glory, was Santa Claus and Mrs. Claus. Their beautiful red suits, rosy cheeks, white hair, and twinkling eyes, I think I could even smell a hint of gingerbread. Was I finally losing my mind? Was insanity kicking in. My daughter took a cautious step backwards when the first question was addressed to her.

With a familiar chuckle, Santa bent down and said hello and addressed my daughter by name (I have to tell you this had me standing there with my mouth hanging open – never mind her). He said to her .. “I know you have been a good little girl and helper to your Mom. You just moved here and I thought you might be worried about whether I would find you this Christmas. I just wanted you to know that if you are good, I won’t forget to come on Christmas Eve”.

I have to say – just writing this brings back that evening with such clarity that my eyes mist over just thinking about it.

I KNEW it… I just knew Santa was real!!! She brought Santa in and showed him our pitiful little tree. She promised to be good and do as she was told, and as quick as they came they left us, with a crispness in the air and their bells jingling off into the distance. We closed the door and looked at each other speechless. (Who was that man?). Right away she wanted to call Grandma and Grandpa to tell them ... who was I to stop her – I wanted to tell someone myself. I called my Dad and relayed the story…. And he asked me “So… who was it”… “Come on Dad, it was SANTA!!!!!”

In the weeks leading up to Christmas that year – on a couple of occasions we heard Santa’s tell-tale bells in the hallway, and I never saw a little girl move so fast to jump into bed (irregardless of the time!) just to be on the safe side!

Something happened for me that Christmas, many of the realities of adulthood dissipated and I found myself with a tiny shred of hope. Hope for all things that as a child you believe in with your whole heart. There was an ability to believe in things we can’t always explain, the selfless kindness in the anonymous act of strangers, at a time when things seem bleak.

That Christmas Eve, my daughter and I stayed at my parent’s place, it just seemed fitting. To spend Christmas with my little girl, in the same room I slept in as a child on Christmas eve, to wake up in the morning with my parents and share our Christmas excitement with them.

So when my daughter asks me “Is Santa Real”,
the answer will be

“Yes Baby, If you believe in him He is!”

Mom

Posting some Old Blog entries - because I find them to be..... interesting / meaningful... etc.

Thursday, March 16, 2006
Fancy lunches, the Correct Fork, and Broccoli

I had the opportunity to attend a lunch today. My boss knows someone who asked him if he would purchase a table at a lunch put on by the Empire Club. The guest speaker was David Flewelling, President of CAA National. There are days like today, when it feels your life has come around full circle - I used to work for CAA for 10 years - I had the opportunity to see a number of faces of people I had had the opportunity to work with in my past, as well as a number of people I know from my current job.

I'd like to backtrack a little however, my present occupation does not often require formal or professional dress, it is generally business casual (and I think I may err often on the casual side) unless of course we are visiting new clients etc. So this meant I felt an overwhelming desire to look the part - especially knowing I was going to be seeing people from my past life. One always likes to at least give the impression that they are moving forward in their chosen or selected career paths. There was in me a desire to look like I had it together - very much.

Last night I spent the better part of my evening at the local mall. Considering the location I am very surprised they don't offer a better or more varied selection. Everything either appeared too old, unflattering, too young, or far too casual for what I had in mind. After a fairly frustrating and exhaustive search of the mall - I ended up with a new skirt and blouse, and the thing that made me happiest of all - new shoes!!!! I love new shoes - they make me happy!!

So this morning as I prepared for the day - it was with a little more enthusiasm than normal - because I felt I would look the part - and with that came some much desired confidence.

After being at work this morning for a few hours - my boss made a discovery - we had confirmed 11 people but only reserved a table for 10. He was suggesting we were going to have to move someone from the table - and I certainly didn't want to be the one to suggest who should be left out or moved. How unprofessional. I came up with another plan - to call the co-ordinator at the Empire Club and see if we could add an additional person to our table. I was quite pleased in the end to discover that this would be no problem!

Our office staff arrived around 11:30 at the Royal York and my boss went one way and we went the other - he was attending some pre-lunch thing as he had the privelege of being seated at the head table.

Once locating everyone for our table and supplying them with their tickets - we entered the dining room to be seated for lunch. It was a nice venue, and after taking one of the 3 remaining empty seats at our table I was pleased to at least find myself seated next to one of our clients (well more like a potential client) that I knew I would have no trouble conversing with.

There was quite an impressive group at our table, lawyer, head of IT for CAA SCO, one of my old boss's from my days in Public Relations at CAA, a couple of Private Investigators, the British Deputy Consul General, a couple of members of the British Canadian Chamber of Trade and Commerce, including the President etc. So quite a nice group of people.


I found as I often do at these events, a relief at the fact that I have been raised and believe I possess decent table manners, the ability to know which knife and fork are required when, and the ability to eat almost anything that is put in front of me. The lunch was quite nice - salmon (one of my favourites), mashed potatoes and veggies - and whoo-hoo NO PEAS! The guest seated to my left noticed that I didn't eat my broccoli - some people just don't miss anything - but I pointed out that it wasn't because I don't like brocoli - I just didn't want to risk getting green stuff stuck in my teeth! I am not sure what the dessert concoction was - but I didn't eat it.

I find that these events can bring out the best in people, for example - someone asking the wait staff for a cup of tea on my behalf - as I missed the initial offer (was in the ladies room), returning to have my two table companions (located on either side of me) stand to pull out my chair - wow super impressive!!! and to have someone near by offer to help me with my coat. Is it wrong to love that?

The speech started and while I listened to most of it - I found I was much distracted by my own thoughts. I found myself wondering where am I headed, in my life and in my career - how will I make a difference in the grand scheme of things - and the answer is - I have no idea.

I realized by speaking briefly with the people who I have had the fortunate opportunity to work with in the past - that I have left a reasonably good impression, and I conduct myself professionally, but there is always that underlying desire to prove myself to others and to myself that I am capable of overcoming the obstacles in my life and still forge ahead. Well I do that - but what else do I actually do? I'm not too sure.

I know lately I have had a couple of distractions (not bad ones) and realized today that with these distractions I am obsessing less about the problems in my immediate life and focusing outwardly again thinking about my own interests and what makes me tick. It has certainly been a pleasant diversion. It made me wonder if I am missing out on a great many things because I am constantly trying to fix my personal relationships rather than focusing on my life and what I want to get out of it.

That sounds a little selfish - and it isn't meant to. It's just I think perhaps I'd be a far more interesting person if I could actually converse a little about things out there in the world rather than the things in my immediate little "me" world.

As always with these thoughts I could feel the tension creep into my neck and shoulders while I pondered "How am I going to make a difference", what will people remember about me when I am gone. Will it be my failures, will it be my exterior professional best foot forward attitude - which I swear if someone actually dug a little deeper would realize is primarily just on the surface.

To quote a great line from a great Canadian Band - The Tragically Hip - and a song called Wheat Kings
No one's interested in something you didn't do

Anyhow - the speech ended - people clapped and then the room cleared just as quickly and neatly as it was filled and it was back to reality for me. How the hell do I find my way out of the parking garage without letting on that I have absolutely no idea what I am doing - and yet I am the one in the office in charge of getting things done - ironic don't you think?


Monday, March 13, 2006
Pirates of the Caribbean Sky

1st Day of March Break today and my lovely little daughter spent 1/2 the day at the office with me. I have to say she is a very patient young lady, was quiet and rewarded by my boss with a company pen of her very own. Looks like tomorrow may involve more of the same - minus the pen.

But that is not why I write this evening. I was just off to bed, about an hour later than planned and after turning out the lights remembered I needed to close the door to my balcony. It has been a very foggy, damp, and cool evening. I was amazed to discover it had turned into a very clear night. There is what I refer to as a Pirates of the Caribbean Sky.

The sky is the most beautiful shade of deep navy, but as a result of a full moon the dark outline of the branches on the trees outside my window is readily apparent. There are a few clouds in the sky illuminated from behind by the moon. The creek down below which is the colour of chocolate milk due to the rain, shimmers with the reflection of the moon..

The overall quality and effect can only be compared to that moment in the ride at Walt Disney World where you find yourself between the two pirate ships out on the water with the clouds swirling overhead, and the night illuminated by the moon. There is a magical quality to it all. It makes me wish I had a cape and some secret place to sneak out to for some late night adventure.

But I am a Mom, who has a job to go to in the morning, and a daughter to amuse, so alas - the only adventures I will be having this evening will be in my dreams.


Sunday, March 12, 2006
Late night Serenade....

In my mind I call her the "oh god girl" and she generally only makes an appearance after midnight on any given day of the week. Before you think I am crazy - she is not a figure of my imagination.

Last night I was woken from a deep sleep - or at least what felt like one around 3am. I laid there for a moment trying to figure out why I was suddenly awake - only to discover repetitive screaming.... aw gawd - not this again!

"oh god, oh god, oh god, OH GOD!!!!!!!!"

Honestly - I am all for people enjoying themselves and I really don't care what hour of night (or day) they choose to do it BUT I don't really view this as a extra-curricular participant sport. In other words - do what you like - just don't make me listen to your theatrics!

She yelled
He yelled
They yelled

and unfortunately - I was the unlucky bugger who - through no desire of my own - had the pleasure of witnessing their "happy moment". And they aren't even in the same building.

Then .... silence.

Only now - I was wide awake. Staring at the ceiling.

You may be asking your self why I was able to hear so much - open window. It is so hot in my apartment that I must sleep with the window open - and I like the fresh air at night. Sure I could have closed the window - but by the point I was awake enough to do this - I was already wide awake - and they were , uh.... finished.

It's times like these when I miss living in a house. No footsteps over head unless they are someone in your own family. No worries about how loud you walk or pull out your kitchen chair in the morning for fear of waking the guy downstairs. No contemplating just how loud you can get away with turning up your music, no worries about your child running out the front door to play in the yard.

Life's stepping stones - they all have a purpose, but it isn't always evident to us.

As far as the "oh god girl" well, congrats.... I can't begrudge you your moment of glory - that would just be... well, it wouldn't be me.

(funny in my new neighbourhood, the night is peaceful and silent, there is no oh-god girl in this neighbourhood.... yet!)

Why I am not Allowed to Sell Tupperware....

What's the "more" you're looking for in life? More time with your family? More passion for your work? More cash, less debt? More recognition and rewards? More respect as a business person? More vacations to exotic places? More improvements to your home? More opportunities for your children? As a Tupperware Consultant you can have more, do more, and enjoy more. Tupperware, the "more" you''re looking for in life.

If you look up Tupperware and opportunities on the internet - you will be greeted by something akin to the paragraph above. Sounds like a great opportunity - don't you think.

So here is my story - a number of years ago - probably about 7 or 8 to be exact, one of my friends convinced me that the two of us could make some good money by looking into being Tupperware Consultants.
Well I certainly know that I have what most would consider decent people skills, but at that time my entertaining/homemaking skills would leave a little bit to be desired and the idea of anything resembling sales - was just not me. However.... I got roped into hosting a Tupperware party where I was to invite friends, neighbours and family, and by doing so - would receive some promised hostess gift - which come to think of it - I don't think I ever received.

Well anyone who has ever actually attended a Tupperware party is all to familiar with the little games or tricks employed to entice sales. I think my party involved 5 minute brownies microwaved right in their little Tupperware pan.

The part of the story that will be of most interest is why in fact I am now banned from attending or hosting future parties (which I must admit - is ok by me). The guests at the party were presented with a large display of Tupperware pieces - some classic, some new and asked to give some thought to a new or unconventional use for said piece of plastic. I just hate being put on the spot in front of a group of very imaginative woman - that clearly had far too much time on their hands to be inventive. Eventually as the consultant made her way around the room - she came to me and it was my turn.

I don't know what got into me - I really don't.

I quickly scanned the items laid out on the table and pointed to the huge Tupperware bowl with lid (which incidentally someone else had already said - that she used her's when she would go visiting - to bring her cake - who the hell brings a cake when they go visiting - show off! The idea being she would place the cake on the lid, and use the bowl as the cake dome - huh! never would have thought of that - but again by this point in my life I had probably baked a grand total of 3 cakes - none of which I would have taken anywhere).

Anyhow - so I point to the large bowl with a lid, and with a perfectly straight face declared that in my house - when I was a kid - that particular bowl came in quite handy and had been used by almost everyone in the family. I sensed that my guests were curious to discover, as was the consultant, how a family with 4 males and 2 females - would make use of this very classic, time honoured bowl.

Uh.. yeah - well you could literally see the bubble burst, as I turned on my heels to re-enter the kitchen to retrieve the coffee mugs, after announcing that in my house we made great use of this Tupperware treasure... because it had been the barf bowl when we were sick.

Not the Beer Drinking Type?

A friend of mine commented once on how I didn't seem the beer drinking type. Truth be told I'm not. I can imagine myself drinking a cold beer in only a few scenarios - a hockey game, while camping, eating hot chicken wings or after a hard days' work on a hot day.

The comment made me think about the last time I can recall truly enjoying a cold beer. It would have been three years ago in August. I had just moved out of my house into an apartment with an enormous balcony - it actually wrapped around two sides of my apartment and afforded a sliver view of the lake. I was quite pleased with the score - and had just prior to moving purchased a couple of do-it yourself assembly Adirondak Chairs from Canadian Tire.

For me there is something tremendously satisfying about accomplishing a small task that I would have thought was beyond me - don't laugh, such as replacing a toilet seat, painting a room, or assembling a piece of furniture.

I arrived home after work, one hot August evening, and when I say hot - I mean stinkin hot, all prepared to tackle the task of assembling my new chairs. There was a pleasant breeze on the balcony - so this idea was far preferrable to unpacking indoors - where there was nary a breeze to be found. I threw on my jeans and and a tank top and tackled the first obstacle - which was simply to open the box. The industrial sized staples holding it together meant I had my work cut out for me.

Being a girl with a few tools to her name - I got out my Regular screwdriver (not the Robinson or Phillips) and went to work. Part way into my task - it occurred to me why the males in my life referred to a task as a 1, 2 or three beer job. I was willing to bet that for me - this would at least qualify as a one beer job.

I proudly and independantly approached my girl fridge, opened the door - and discovered with pride..... 6 Beers!!! left over from moving day. I opened a bottle - with my bare hands and not the oh so feminine opener, took and icy-cold slug and sauntered back out to "My" balcony, with my screwdriver in my back pocket, screws in the front pocket - beer in hand and faced my new (unassembled) chairs - head on.

I CAN DO THIS!!!!!
(she said with images of beating her chest with her fists, in her head)

With one extra cold sip for good measure - I not only tackled those chairs, but I conquered the task at hand. In an hour and a half I had put together not one, but 2 chairs for my balcony, finished my cold beer and opened another to celebrate and enjoyed every mouthful.

Today I sit here in those very same chairs, in the front yard of my new home (home!) and enjoy with a book and a cup of tea, or on a hot evening a glass of wine or the ever faithful Gin & Tonic.

p.s. I just discovered these very same chairs are about $20 cheaper now than when I first bought them - perhaps I could get a couple more!

Some of the Many Reasons Why I Love my Daughter

* When she is happy – you really know it because she has the best smile and it lights up her whole face!
* She never runs out of hugs and kisses for her Mom
* She is a really creative little girl, and makes some of the best pictures, currently my favourite is a brown construction paper Monkey with a sweet face and a great grin!
* She is her own person in spite of my constant interference
* She loves to sing – and is pretty darn good at it!
* As a parent I find her stubbornness one of my biggest challenges – but as a person I know it will serve her well
* She always gives people second chances…..because she is really nice that way
* When she is hungry – almost every meal I make – is her favourite!
* She is very helpful, she makes her bed, cleans the bathroom, helps fold laundry, makes her lunch for school every night, has been doing her homework without any hassle and generally will do whatever I ask to help out – provided it doesn’t include cleaning her bedroom.
* She thinks outside the box – almost exclusively
* She gets excited my almost everything – as opposed to almost nothing.
* She has the best qualities of both her father and I combined
* She is socially very well behaved. In other words – if I take her out in public, she will be polite and well mannered.
* She makes me look good because of above point (haha)

And last but not least

If it wasn’t for that very wonderful, sweet and talented little girl – I would in no way resemble the woman I have become today. She is the reason I try to be a better person!

My baby turned double digits!!!!

Wow

When did that happen - I recall celebrating "3" like it was yesterday - but where do the years go?

My daughter and I ventured into Toronto to her first big theatre production - which ironically - was also my first big theatre production for my 18th b-day. It was also her first experience with homeless people sleeping on the sidewalk(which greatly unsettled her).

Her Dad and I gave her tickets to see Phantom of the Opera for her b-day and I was so excited to share this experience with her. She has been to many smaller theatre plays, and productions - but nothing on this scale.

The lights went down, the curtain went up and the magic unfolded before our eyes. Every moment was exactly as I remembered.... only better, because I had someone I was so excited to share it with. The costumes, the singing, the effects.... simply amazing.

It's was a little like life. There are so many difficult moments, but every once in a while you hit a gem and it just makes everything else stop, and you sit up and drink it all in.

10 years ago I had no idea where my life was going to lead me. I was sitting in a hospital room full of pride for managing to deliver my baby, who has become such a delight. I had no idea that I would spend so much time raising her on my own, or that my life would have as much struggle as it has had.

She is the music, she is the special effect, she is the voice that sings the songs that make my feet hit the floor in the morning wondering what is in store for me in the day ahead. She is the reason I keep putting one foot in front of the other, and also why I remind myself that I must stop and "smell the roses" because they grow and change all too fast.

Yesterday she was three, today she is 10 and tomorrow she will be 16. I need for things to just slow down, so I can hold her hand and enjoy the moments. She is somewhere between a child and a young lady. She talks of the tooth fairy one moment and in the next breath informs me that she knows what "S-E-X" is. She is my daughter, and sometimes she is my friend. She is that soft voice that says "Is everything alright Mom, you look like you are thinking really hard". She is the voice that commands action "What's for dinner", "What are we doing today", "When can we go...". She creates, and loves, and is a huge whirlwind of mess. She is half-eaten lunches, tears over math homework, hamster that sometimes forgets to be fed, stuck up in the tree afraid to come down, smiles and laughter.

She is a part of me. But more than that - she is the reason that I have become the woman I am today. She is the reason I can never give up, never stop pushing myself, never stop trying to be the right and good example, the reason I want to show her that it's important to give respect to those around you - but also demand it in return.

She is the hand in mine on the walks in park. She is my measuring stick.

I know that one day - she will grow up, and move on to learn her own lessons, and make her own mistakes - I can only hope that when that time comes - I will have figured out mine. I hope that I will succeed in raising her to be independent, self-motivated, and her own brand of successful. I hope that she finds her own happiness, and doesn't settle too long in her own dissappointments. I hope that she doesn't fear the unknown in life's friendships and relationships, and that perhaps she even has a child of her own one day that challenges her to be the best version of her that she can be.

For today - she is 10. I still have time. Time to learn, time to teach, time to grow.