To fully understand my extreme frustration, I need to go back a ways in my explanation of current events.
I have a squatter, as it were, currently residing with me. Her name is Carleigh, she is 18 years old and my best friend Bill's fiance. Carleigh is an incredible young lady who, in my opinion, is far more lovely than I can express. Carleigh comes from a rather strict upbringing, and by strict I mean crushed under the thumb of her mother. Do not mistake me, I think her mother, given the circumstances, did an amazing job raising her, her sister and supporting her grandmother as well. She did the best job that she knew how to do and I would never lessen that accomplishment. However.... No one is perfect and in my own opinion, and personal history, I believe her mother to be extremely verbally and emotionally abusive.
Now anyone who has known me for any length of time, knows without question, I will not stand for that so, when her mother kicked her out of the family home for being my friend, I naturally took her in with open arms.
Her mother has this insufferable habit of needing to control every aspect of her adult daughter's life, and is uncompromising on any matter. Her mother has gone so far as to create elaborate falsehoods regarding my person to which are not only blatant, but fairly impossible for me to has accomplished!
Despite her disposition, I find her to be a good person. In her mind, she, for whatever reason, is under the impression I am brainwashing her daughter and am a bad influence. What loving mother wouldn't want to take action to ensure their child's safety? Unfortunately, she is under the premise that if she threatens and lies, yells and cries, and disowns her daughter at the drop of a pin... that this will somehow make her daughter WANT to come back home.
Fortunately, Carleigh is an incredible strong woman who, despite being naive, has a firm grip on reality.
Now back to the present.
After yet another exacerbated confrontation yesterday between Carleigh and her mother, I watched this tender lady struggle with emotional torment half the evening before I couldn't handle it anymore.
This mother had been telling her for the past week about all these nasty things going on at home, her examples being that her sister was getting stalked by a known bad ass, her grandmother was in poor health and it was her fault, and her aunt, who lives in Ontario, suddenly needs Carleigh's help and wants her to move up there to help out. Carleigh is rather close to her grandmother, and having met her I can see why, she reminds me fondly of my own, a very gentle soul... but I digress, Carleigh wanted to find out how her grandmother was and had decided she may even go stay at her mom's for a week or so, just to make sure everything was alright.
Her mother seized this opportunity to bombard Carleigh with her list of uncompromising demands for her to come back home.
She was to have no contact with me what so ever, was not allowed to visit in Winnipeg at all and could only see her fiance every second week end, oh yes...and he too, would have to give me up as a friend.... eventually. (Can you start to understand my intense frustration?)
I am quite happy to report, she has decided not to fall into the trap set and has sidestepped it only to carry on with her life and her future with her fiance.
It frustrates me that parents can even do that to their children. I can not fathom ever telling my child I want nothing to do with them simply because they chose their own path in life. Her mother seems to be taking this as a person attack on her parenting and has once again black balled her daughter from having any contact with herself, her sister or their grandmother. This too I find incomprehensible as a parent.
If in fact her grandmother is truly ill, I would assume she would be willing to allow contact. It doesn't make any sense to me at all that she would behave so brutally towards her daughter simply because she feels God knows what.
I am however, just venting. Thank you for listening.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Life inside a No Kill Shelter.
First off, I do not put my faith in 'fate', rather in God. Only he knows the masterpiece that is my life, I am but a fly walking across that work of art. I do not see the picture in it's entirety, I see only shades, light patches and dark.
I am currently walking across a rather dark patch right now and it hurts. Financially my husband and I are struggling. I have stopped working at Timmie's due to injury. My husbands wages are such that the government gets more out of his cheque than he does and quite frankly it is killing us.
I know that money woe's are an everyday complaint most of us hear and nod absently that we understand, but in truth I don't believe many do. Living below the poverty line is a demeaning way to live.
The government doesn't really want to deal with you because you can't offer them anything substantial, yet they are bound to show compassion if only to save face with their constituents. Very similar to finding a wounded animal. It's injuries severe enough that something must be done for it in order for it to survive, so one will typically do one of two things (if they have a beating heart within their chests) Transport said animal to the nearest vet and leave it in their capable hands or two try to mend the poor thing on their own. Either way the animal stands a decent chance at survival to it's barest minimum. But very few follow up with that animal. What happens once it's well fed and it's physical wounds are healed? It either gets adopted (if it's cute and strums the heartstrings of a special person) or more often than not, gets left in an equally debilitating scenario and is abandoned in a shelter. No kill shelter I mean....lets be humane here.
As with that wounded animal, so are the general populous of poverty. We are helped back to our feet with the scraps the government slides off its table and made to live in communities they dare not step into (unless its election time) fearing their personal safety.
They group us into these communities based on our earnings?? and are even kind enough to let us choose which particular 'gig' town we get to reside in. ( that is, if there's a vacantcy, otherwise you take whatever they have left)
Poverty communities have by far the highest crime rates, the collection of criminal orientated persons residing in these communities rival that of state prisons, only at least prisons have guards to maintain order!
Because poverty demeans and belittles a persons integrity, most lose their faith in whats good and proper and just, and begin to simply survive. They steal because they can't afford to purchase their food or diapers for their babies, they prostitute because the monies that the government gives them barely covers the cost of rent, let alone food and they must provide for their own. They lie and cheat and manipulate the system so they can scrounge a few extra pennies to attempt to feel normal with the purchase of something new, rather than what they normally find in the back lanes and dumpsters that becomes their equity. They do illegal acts because they feel justified in doing so, they abuse substances in an attempt to forget or numb their pain and suffering in the face of their own exsistance.
Now do not get me wrong, there are many who live within these communities that are like lions within the herd of fat sheep. They are predators, usually second or third generation poverty, those who develop the taste for it rather than the actual 'need'. But to get back on topic.
I have lived where my blanket in winter was the undercarriage of a strangers vehicle, where the bus shack was your hotel for the evening because it had heat you didn't have to have money to get. I have lived where you stand around a food court in the mall and wait patiently until that family finishes their meal so that you can go eat whatever is left as good people stare down their noses at you for doing so because you are too hungry to remember what pride is. I have been behind the dumpsters, crouching in filth as you search for something, anything that is going to keep you warm enough to survive the night because the windchill factor is killing you. I have lived in those worn out shoes and am happy to say I no longer do, I'm about one step up from that.
I live in a gig town, the projects, the ghetto, the dark side of humanities best kept secrets! I am educated, articulate and relatively healthy, I am willing and able to work and I believe myself to be worthy of respect. I grew up in a house, was fed and clothed daily, went to school and moved out on my own at 16 because I thought I knew more about the world than my parents. (fear not I apologize to them almost daily now) Similarly my husband never suffered for anything growing up, always had new things, and with the added benefit of having parents that were extreme in their materialism, usually had brand name everything and the kind of home you'd see in fancy magazines; so what happened? What went horribly wrong? Was it our up bringing that did this? No. We simply made ignorant choices with our money and put our faith in human decency foolishly. We were sold a sucker of a home that should have been torn down but we didn't know any better. I became extremely ill which forced added pressure to the finances and we had four children to feed, clothes and transport to and from everywhere. Needless to say we just could not keep up with the demands of this house and it broke us. Both financially and emotionally. We ended up taking what we could get. (the wounded animal being nursed back to health syndrome)
We have since then been stuck here roughly 7 years. The cruelest part about being in poverty, is that no one with money wants you to get back out of it! They say they do, but in truth it is similar to a bully holding the treasured item high above the victims head. "You can have it back, jump bunny rabbit" Despite his pride, he jumps, and jumps again to get that treasure back,while the onlookers laugh and point at how stupid you are rather than how cruel the bully is. They tell us 'there are plenty of jobs out there' yet when we finally get one, they take with both hands all of it back. With one hand they pilfer your wage with taxes, with the other they deduct almost, if not all you made off of what their meager financial aid is for you. Their truly is no financial benefit to being employed in these communities because you are financially punished for it severely. They increase your rent to ridiculous amounts, they decrease their financial aid to make it harder for you to pay them their dues, they make ludicrous demands of your time and effort by placing conditions on you to continue to seek employment or get tossed out of the only home you have, refuse you comforts of normalcy like a family pet to love a protect you. They do not enforce any rules they have in place for your gig town, yet will come down on you if your late with a hydro payment! There is no protection for those who live in these towns, like myself, who have chosen not to be criminal or commit crimes to survive. (Yes there are very good people in these towns, you just never hear about them because you're bombarded with all the new coverage about the latest murder in our back yards) So I say to you, mush on. As a good hearted person, an optimist (or fool take your pick) and a firm believer in Christ and his teachings I have an obligation to not only myself and my husband, but to my children to maintain this smile, to keep my chin up and shoulders squared. It is a far more dignified sense of survival... but alas, it is still only surviving.
One day, and it will come... I will stop surviving and start living comfortably.... one day. Sadly that is not today.
I am currently walking across a rather dark patch right now and it hurts. Financially my husband and I are struggling. I have stopped working at Timmie's due to injury. My husbands wages are such that the government gets more out of his cheque than he does and quite frankly it is killing us.
I know that money woe's are an everyday complaint most of us hear and nod absently that we understand, but in truth I don't believe many do. Living below the poverty line is a demeaning way to live.
The government doesn't really want to deal with you because you can't offer them anything substantial, yet they are bound to show compassion if only to save face with their constituents. Very similar to finding a wounded animal. It's injuries severe enough that something must be done for it in order for it to survive, so one will typically do one of two things (if they have a beating heart within their chests) Transport said animal to the nearest vet and leave it in their capable hands or two try to mend the poor thing on their own. Either way the animal stands a decent chance at survival to it's barest minimum. But very few follow up with that animal. What happens once it's well fed and it's physical wounds are healed? It either gets adopted (if it's cute and strums the heartstrings of a special person) or more often than not, gets left in an equally debilitating scenario and is abandoned in a shelter. No kill shelter I mean....lets be humane here.
As with that wounded animal, so are the general populous of poverty. We are helped back to our feet with the scraps the government slides off its table and made to live in communities they dare not step into (unless its election time) fearing their personal safety.
They group us into these communities based on our earnings?? and are even kind enough to let us choose which particular 'gig' town we get to reside in. ( that is, if there's a vacantcy, otherwise you take whatever they have left)
Poverty communities have by far the highest crime rates, the collection of criminal orientated persons residing in these communities rival that of state prisons, only at least prisons have guards to maintain order!
Because poverty demeans and belittles a persons integrity, most lose their faith in whats good and proper and just, and begin to simply survive. They steal because they can't afford to purchase their food or diapers for their babies, they prostitute because the monies that the government gives them barely covers the cost of rent, let alone food and they must provide for their own. They lie and cheat and manipulate the system so they can scrounge a few extra pennies to attempt to feel normal with the purchase of something new, rather than what they normally find in the back lanes and dumpsters that becomes their equity. They do illegal acts because they feel justified in doing so, they abuse substances in an attempt to forget or numb their pain and suffering in the face of their own exsistance.
Now do not get me wrong, there are many who live within these communities that are like lions within the herd of fat sheep. They are predators, usually second or third generation poverty, those who develop the taste for it rather than the actual 'need'. But to get back on topic.
I have lived where my blanket in winter was the undercarriage of a strangers vehicle, where the bus shack was your hotel for the evening because it had heat you didn't have to have money to get. I have lived where you stand around a food court in the mall and wait patiently until that family finishes their meal so that you can go eat whatever is left as good people stare down their noses at you for doing so because you are too hungry to remember what pride is. I have been behind the dumpsters, crouching in filth as you search for something, anything that is going to keep you warm enough to survive the night because the windchill factor is killing you. I have lived in those worn out shoes and am happy to say I no longer do, I'm about one step up from that.
I live in a gig town, the projects, the ghetto, the dark side of humanities best kept secrets! I am educated, articulate and relatively healthy, I am willing and able to work and I believe myself to be worthy of respect. I grew up in a house, was fed and clothed daily, went to school and moved out on my own at 16 because I thought I knew more about the world than my parents. (fear not I apologize to them almost daily now) Similarly my husband never suffered for anything growing up, always had new things, and with the added benefit of having parents that were extreme in their materialism, usually had brand name everything and the kind of home you'd see in fancy magazines; so what happened? What went horribly wrong? Was it our up bringing that did this? No. We simply made ignorant choices with our money and put our faith in human decency foolishly. We were sold a sucker of a home that should have been torn down but we didn't know any better. I became extremely ill which forced added pressure to the finances and we had four children to feed, clothes and transport to and from everywhere. Needless to say we just could not keep up with the demands of this house and it broke us. Both financially and emotionally. We ended up taking what we could get. (the wounded animal being nursed back to health syndrome)
We have since then been stuck here roughly 7 years. The cruelest part about being in poverty, is that no one with money wants you to get back out of it! They say they do, but in truth it is similar to a bully holding the treasured item high above the victims head. "You can have it back, jump bunny rabbit" Despite his pride, he jumps, and jumps again to get that treasure back,while the onlookers laugh and point at how stupid you are rather than how cruel the bully is. They tell us 'there are plenty of jobs out there' yet when we finally get one, they take with both hands all of it back. With one hand they pilfer your wage with taxes, with the other they deduct almost, if not all you made off of what their meager financial aid is for you. Their truly is no financial benefit to being employed in these communities because you are financially punished for it severely. They increase your rent to ridiculous amounts, they decrease their financial aid to make it harder for you to pay them their dues, they make ludicrous demands of your time and effort by placing conditions on you to continue to seek employment or get tossed out of the only home you have, refuse you comforts of normalcy like a family pet to love a protect you. They do not enforce any rules they have in place for your gig town, yet will come down on you if your late with a hydro payment! There is no protection for those who live in these towns, like myself, who have chosen not to be criminal or commit crimes to survive. (Yes there are very good people in these towns, you just never hear about them because you're bombarded with all the new coverage about the latest murder in our back yards) So I say to you, mush on. As a good hearted person, an optimist (or fool take your pick) and a firm believer in Christ and his teachings I have an obligation to not only myself and my husband, but to my children to maintain this smile, to keep my chin up and shoulders squared. It is a far more dignified sense of survival... but alas, it is still only surviving.
One day, and it will come... I will stop surviving and start living comfortably.... one day. Sadly that is not today.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
I work, there fore I am.
Being a Mom of four demands alot from a person. I have given up the sexy figure, the freestyle life and pretty much any private time I ever had, but I guess the thing that I've given up the most would have to be my pride.
As a parent, a good parent I might add, I no longer give thought to things like looking good, rest and living without stress constantly tying up my thoughts like a OCD patient on Adrenalin in a fish netting place. I instead think of things like rent, bills, food and clothing, often having thoughts like 'wow that would be a nice blouse but....' or ' I should get myself this or that but...'
You see my priorities are no longer about me. If my children are hungry... I feed them, anyway I legally can. I will stand in food bank lines, I will knock on friends doors and beg, I don't much care how I get the food, only that I have it for them. Same thought applies when the rent and bills come round. I wouldn't normally work midnights, or at a place I find beneath my abilities mentally...(i.e.: Tim Horton's) and yet here I am, working the crap shift, making the crap wage because I was too stupid to get the education needed to provide for my family. So it sucks,
inwardly it kills my to put the uniform on and be seen in it. It kills me to know that right now unless I win the lottery I will probably continue working there so I can be the parent I need to be, but eh... that's what being a mom is, giving of yourself so the kids get better right?
I love being a mom and wife, couldn't ask for a more demanding yet rewarding job on Earth, but I hate working somewhere beneath me. Just saying.
As a parent, a good parent I might add, I no longer give thought to things like looking good, rest and living without stress constantly tying up my thoughts like a OCD patient on Adrenalin in a fish netting place. I instead think of things like rent, bills, food and clothing, often having thoughts like 'wow that would be a nice blouse but....' or ' I should get myself this or that but...'
You see my priorities are no longer about me. If my children are hungry... I feed them, anyway I legally can. I will stand in food bank lines, I will knock on friends doors and beg, I don't much care how I get the food, only that I have it for them. Same thought applies when the rent and bills come round. I wouldn't normally work midnights, or at a place I find beneath my abilities mentally...(i.e.: Tim Horton's) and yet here I am, working the crap shift, making the crap wage because I was too stupid to get the education needed to provide for my family. So it sucks,
inwardly it kills my to put the uniform on and be seen in it. It kills me to know that right now unless I win the lottery I will probably continue working there so I can be the parent I need to be, but eh... that's what being a mom is, giving of yourself so the kids get better right?
I love being a mom and wife, couldn't ask for a more demanding yet rewarding job on Earth, but I hate working somewhere beneath me. Just saying.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Being Fat ain't easy!!
I am fat. I say that not as an insult to my person, or an exaggeration, rather a statement of fact. I am technically obese, being 40lbs plus over my recommended weight for my height. It blows monkey chunks considerably.
I would love to blame many things that brought me here, the endless medications the doctors shoved down my throat for nine years, the near divorce I faced twice, the CPTSD I suffer from... but no. I did this to me. I own the blame. It is not easy being fat when you know, KNOW that inside, under that blubber is a beautiful woman struggling to breath under the weight of my sin, for lack of a better term.
I chose to be lazy, I chose to give into the fast food cravings, the chocolate and ice creams, the heavy carbs and starchy goodness. I enjoyed getting here. I just hate being here!!!
I have endeavored to regain my health in this, my later years. Not out of vanity, or even neccessaty, rather out of love. I love playing with my children, I love walking with my husband, breathing fresh crisp air and frolicking in the grass like a hippy on acid! I love living life like I'm twenty years old again. (Not the partying, boozing, being homeless and completely irresponsible part either)
But you see, I rarely do any of those things because I pant, and sweat, and clutch my chest in agony like an eighty year old having 'the big one' because these added pounds are hindering the lifestyle I now want! I miss having a life!
I know that obesity has crippled my confidence so such a degree that I avoid mirrors because I can't even stand my own reflection. I work out in private because to be seen in public all sweaty and disfigured with fat makes me weep openly with shame. I know that the people who love me do not judge me or my size, the love they have is unconditional. They support me in any endeavor I choose to go to. It's me who hates me. It's me who judges myself.
Some people who are obese, are quite comfortable in their skin and love themselves greatly, have great self confidence and are even quite attractive. I envy these people, not because of their size, but because they have an uncanny ability to deny themselves the obvious. Nobody can be of healthy mind, and still be happy with being large... nobody!
I say this not as a judgement, but as a simple state of fact. Most obese people are not that way because they chose to be. (although some are, as a means of hiding some form of self loathing or another) Nay, most are obese because of a lifetime or extended event in their lives that has caused them to make unhealthy choices. The ones who fall into the 'it's glandular' or 'genetic' categories are in denial. I say this again, not as a judgement, but a fact.
People with such disorders like diabetes type 2( a self inflicted disease by the way) or hypoglycemia have had overwhelming success with diet and exercise programs, doctor monitored eating plans etc. In short, it took a lifestyle to get us there, and will take a lifestyle change to change it.
None of us got fat over night, none of us suddenly appeared obese, it was a gradual thing that happened over time. Now I am taking back those years of self mutilation and trying desperately to live as long as I can in a healthy way.
To those obese people out there who do love themselves, bravo! You are far more secure in your self confidence than I am, but being well adjusted and happy are two very different things. Having self confidence does not mean being happy. I will give you an example of what I mean.
My brother is an accomplished guitarist, a youth pastor, a scholar, has taught himself both Greek and Latin, has completed many years old schooling, has an extensive IQ that could rival Albert Einsteins with ease, and has an uncanny knowledge of anything electronic.... for starters. He is quite secure in his faith, secure in his studies, and is one of the best examples of fatherhood I could imagine. Yet for himself, despite all his accomplishments, and all his knowledge and self confidence, at no time would he ever say this is all I want in life, I am happy just where I am. Not at all! Because somewhere inside him, there is a thirst for more. More knowledge, how to improve etc. To be precise, He would never be happy to just settle for what he has because he knows he could do more with his life to benefit himself and others.
This is the context of what I mean when I say that nobody who is obese could possibly be happy. We all have it in us to be better than we are presently.
Some of us, like my brother for example, are most goal orientated while others, like myself hardly know where to begin. But we all, fat or thin, tall or short, white or colored, want more out of life than just this stagnant going nowhereness that we all sometimes face.
So, in closing, I am fat, yes. But I intend to do something about it, I have begun my journey back to health and am honest in the admission that what I appear to be is NOT the beautiful woman I know I am.... yet, but sooner rather than later she will emerge again, and like a butterfly fighting it's way out that confining cacoon, I will emerge the victor, and far more glorious and stunning than when I went into it!!
I would love to blame many things that brought me here, the endless medications the doctors shoved down my throat for nine years, the near divorce I faced twice, the CPTSD I suffer from... but no. I did this to me. I own the blame. It is not easy being fat when you know, KNOW that inside, under that blubber is a beautiful woman struggling to breath under the weight of my sin, for lack of a better term.
I chose to be lazy, I chose to give into the fast food cravings, the chocolate and ice creams, the heavy carbs and starchy goodness. I enjoyed getting here. I just hate being here!!!
I have endeavored to regain my health in this, my later years. Not out of vanity, or even neccessaty, rather out of love. I love playing with my children, I love walking with my husband, breathing fresh crisp air and frolicking in the grass like a hippy on acid! I love living life like I'm twenty years old again. (Not the partying, boozing, being homeless and completely irresponsible part either)
But you see, I rarely do any of those things because I pant, and sweat, and clutch my chest in agony like an eighty year old having 'the big one' because these added pounds are hindering the lifestyle I now want! I miss having a life!
I know that obesity has crippled my confidence so such a degree that I avoid mirrors because I can't even stand my own reflection. I work out in private because to be seen in public all sweaty and disfigured with fat makes me weep openly with shame. I know that the people who love me do not judge me or my size, the love they have is unconditional. They support me in any endeavor I choose to go to. It's me who hates me. It's me who judges myself.
Some people who are obese, are quite comfortable in their skin and love themselves greatly, have great self confidence and are even quite attractive. I envy these people, not because of their size, but because they have an uncanny ability to deny themselves the obvious. Nobody can be of healthy mind, and still be happy with being large... nobody!
I say this not as a judgement, but as a simple state of fact. Most obese people are not that way because they chose to be. (although some are, as a means of hiding some form of self loathing or another) Nay, most are obese because of a lifetime or extended event in their lives that has caused them to make unhealthy choices. The ones who fall into the 'it's glandular' or 'genetic' categories are in denial. I say this again, not as a judgement, but a fact.
People with such disorders like diabetes type 2( a self inflicted disease by the way) or hypoglycemia have had overwhelming success with diet and exercise programs, doctor monitored eating plans etc. In short, it took a lifestyle to get us there, and will take a lifestyle change to change it.
None of us got fat over night, none of us suddenly appeared obese, it was a gradual thing that happened over time. Now I am taking back those years of self mutilation and trying desperately to live as long as I can in a healthy way.
To those obese people out there who do love themselves, bravo! You are far more secure in your self confidence than I am, but being well adjusted and happy are two very different things. Having self confidence does not mean being happy. I will give you an example of what I mean.
My brother is an accomplished guitarist, a youth pastor, a scholar, has taught himself both Greek and Latin, has completed many years old schooling, has an extensive IQ that could rival Albert Einsteins with ease, and has an uncanny knowledge of anything electronic.... for starters. He is quite secure in his faith, secure in his studies, and is one of the best examples of fatherhood I could imagine. Yet for himself, despite all his accomplishments, and all his knowledge and self confidence, at no time would he ever say this is all I want in life, I am happy just where I am. Not at all! Because somewhere inside him, there is a thirst for more. More knowledge, how to improve etc. To be precise, He would never be happy to just settle for what he has because he knows he could do more with his life to benefit himself and others.
This is the context of what I mean when I say that nobody who is obese could possibly be happy. We all have it in us to be better than we are presently.
Some of us, like my brother for example, are most goal orientated while others, like myself hardly know where to begin. But we all, fat or thin, tall or short, white or colored, want more out of life than just this stagnant going nowhereness that we all sometimes face.
So, in closing, I am fat, yes. But I intend to do something about it, I have begun my journey back to health and am honest in the admission that what I appear to be is NOT the beautiful woman I know I am.... yet, but sooner rather than later she will emerge again, and like a butterfly fighting it's way out that confining cacoon, I will emerge the victor, and far more glorious and stunning than when I went into it!!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
What is a Friend?
I've been told I have a very high standard for what I consider a friend to be. I personally don't believe this to be true, but in all fairness I will be objective and put it out there for other opinions. Feel free to comment.
A friend to me is someone who has many qualities. I look for a connection between us first off. To me that is vital. If I don't get this feeling, I usually tend not to take things any further. This connection can include similar senses of humor, ideals, interests, and the like. But it needs to be instinctual. Certain people can seems very nice yet 'raise the hairs on the back of your neck'. While others seem quite natural to talk to, almost comfortable. That is the connection I speak of.
although not mandatory, we usually need somethings in common. Be that spiritual, mental, etc.
That is not to say differences are tossed, no. I enjoy challenging opinions or ideals. It is refreshing at times.
I feel that a friend should be loyal. I will give to you my interpretation of what I believe loyal to be. If I tell this person something and want it kept secret for various reasons, would a true friend do it? Depends on what you tell them. If what I said endangers myself, my children or another human being? Then absolutely not! As a friend your loyalty needs to be for that friend, their health and your own. Should a friend tell under other circumstances? again absolutely not. A secret is simply that, and if you've been entrusted with it, you keep it. That person is asking you to keep their trust, keep their feelings etc. private and safe with someone they feel is trust worthy. For you to 'spill the proverbial beans' is a breach of trust and only under threat of life and limb should you ever repeat it to another. But loyalty doesn't end there. If your friend is being picked on, made fun of, being treated unfairly or abusively, then this is something a friend would not tolerate. Stepping in, standing up for or protecting them from harm is a duty you should feel compelled to do rather than have to think about. This is not to say you start fights or help them beat on someone, no, have some morals! There is another definition for those actions, bullying and abuse.
A friend needs to be dependable, there when you need to talk, even at three am if needed. helpful, and giving of their time and shoulders sometimes.
Honesty is a huge quality I look for. I do not lie to people, I do not want someone I feel love for lying to me. communicate with me, tell me the hard truths, not just what you think I want to hear, but what needs to be said. I don't like braggarts, bull shooters or big mouths. I've out grown that part of my life 20 years ago.
I consider a friend close, emotionally and in the family sense. I don't need to call them every day to remind them how much I care, or how important they are to me, nor do I need to see them every day to reaffirm my friendship. But if I choose to, that's awesome. A friend should feel secure with their position in my heart, and not afraid to tell me anything either. If they feel left out, say it, talk to me etc.
I give in a friendship everything that I expect from one, without exception.... why then do I only have two true friends in my life?? you tell me?
A friend to me is someone who has many qualities. I look for a connection between us first off. To me that is vital. If I don't get this feeling, I usually tend not to take things any further. This connection can include similar senses of humor, ideals, interests, and the like. But it needs to be instinctual. Certain people can seems very nice yet 'raise the hairs on the back of your neck'. While others seem quite natural to talk to, almost comfortable. That is the connection I speak of.
although not mandatory, we usually need somethings in common. Be that spiritual, mental, etc.
That is not to say differences are tossed, no. I enjoy challenging opinions or ideals. It is refreshing at times.
I feel that a friend should be loyal. I will give to you my interpretation of what I believe loyal to be. If I tell this person something and want it kept secret for various reasons, would a true friend do it? Depends on what you tell them. If what I said endangers myself, my children or another human being? Then absolutely not! As a friend your loyalty needs to be for that friend, their health and your own. Should a friend tell under other circumstances? again absolutely not. A secret is simply that, and if you've been entrusted with it, you keep it. That person is asking you to keep their trust, keep their feelings etc. private and safe with someone they feel is trust worthy. For you to 'spill the proverbial beans' is a breach of trust and only under threat of life and limb should you ever repeat it to another. But loyalty doesn't end there. If your friend is being picked on, made fun of, being treated unfairly or abusively, then this is something a friend would not tolerate. Stepping in, standing up for or protecting them from harm is a duty you should feel compelled to do rather than have to think about. This is not to say you start fights or help them beat on someone, no, have some morals! There is another definition for those actions, bullying and abuse.
A friend needs to be dependable, there when you need to talk, even at three am if needed. helpful, and giving of their time and shoulders sometimes.
Honesty is a huge quality I look for. I do not lie to people, I do not want someone I feel love for lying to me. communicate with me, tell me the hard truths, not just what you think I want to hear, but what needs to be said. I don't like braggarts, bull shooters or big mouths. I've out grown that part of my life 20 years ago.
I consider a friend close, emotionally and in the family sense. I don't need to call them every day to remind them how much I care, or how important they are to me, nor do I need to see them every day to reaffirm my friendship. But if I choose to, that's awesome. A friend should feel secure with their position in my heart, and not afraid to tell me anything either. If they feel left out, say it, talk to me etc.
I give in a friendship everything that I expect from one, without exception.... why then do I only have two true friends in my life?? you tell me?
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
If I were a pitcher....
You know how sometimes life kicks you so hard in the genitals you feel as though your grandchildren may suffer permanent brain damage? Yes, you could say I'm there. Nothing of tragedy has happened currently to make me feel this way per say, simply a combined effort of all things that could go wrong.... you get the idea.
I would like to think of myself as a strong woman, one who is compassionate, giving and of a loving nature. I grew up hard, partied harder but then grew up; and like most who have done so, I have sacrificed much.
As a mother of four, sacrifice is nothing new to me. I kinda thrive on it really, but I have been noticing of late, the extent of my self sacrifice. That is to say how much of myself I have actually been neglecting. Having four children has taken it's physical toll on my body and at 38 I'm feeling the call of the armchair more clearly than the call of the wild; and yet I still hear that faint call. I want to lose the excess weight that's been dragging me down and making me feel twice my age, as well as some other personal goals I've set. This is my thought process anyways. Each time I try to accomplish any of these things I face monumental hurdles.
The needs of the many seem to always out way the needs of the few. The husband, God I love this man, has emotional stunted growth syndrome. Ever hear of it? It's a common disorder amongst men ( not really, at least not recognized by the medical profession) in which a man is seemingly unable to incorporate emotion into his daily life. Where once I was a woman, sexy, vibrant and easy to show off.... Now when asked to describe me, I am an awesome Mom, a great cook and great at cleaning. Hmm........ what happened?
Somewhere along the way my husband has forgotten I'm still a woman, still need to be told I'm beautiful, still need to know I'm loved and appreciated for my importance in his life. He calls me high maintenance and needy because I ask for hugs, or to cuddle or told I'm pretty. I don't think that's high maintenance, but I do feel it's necessary for a healthy relationship if both parties needs are being met.
He needs a clean house, he needs domestication to feel secure, is visually stimulated this way and feels I appreciate what he contributes to the family, but more importantly to him personally.
I, however, have been pleading with him for as long as I can remember to open his mouth and say something just for me, acknowledge me, the woman, not the mom, not the nanny or maid, but me, inside. He's yet to comprehend my meaning I guess.
Don't get me wrong, he is an awesome man, worthy of praise and all positivity I can say, but he has to understand that a relationship is work as well as pleasure. You need to put effort in if you want any results in life, not just marriage.
There's not many women out there that have what I have, I've loved the man since I was 15yrs. old and I still get butterflies and weak kneed when he smiles at me. I honour him the best that I can and do for him anything he asks, I just don't feel it's a two way street anymore and it hurts.
It could be insecurity talking, I know that. But I needed to say it, I needed to know I'm worth it. I feel like a pitcher of water, at one point I was full, but with each need of his I refill his cup, and refill, and refill. He has yet to refill the pitcher with fresh water and I'm tapped. It's how I'm feeling today. That's all I have to say right now.
I would like to think of myself as a strong woman, one who is compassionate, giving and of a loving nature. I grew up hard, partied harder but then grew up; and like most who have done so, I have sacrificed much.
As a mother of four, sacrifice is nothing new to me. I kinda thrive on it really, but I have been noticing of late, the extent of my self sacrifice. That is to say how much of myself I have actually been neglecting. Having four children has taken it's physical toll on my body and at 38 I'm feeling the call of the armchair more clearly than the call of the wild; and yet I still hear that faint call. I want to lose the excess weight that's been dragging me down and making me feel twice my age, as well as some other personal goals I've set. This is my thought process anyways. Each time I try to accomplish any of these things I face monumental hurdles.
The needs of the many seem to always out way the needs of the few. The husband, God I love this man, has emotional stunted growth syndrome. Ever hear of it? It's a common disorder amongst men ( not really, at least not recognized by the medical profession) in which a man is seemingly unable to incorporate emotion into his daily life. Where once I was a woman, sexy, vibrant and easy to show off.... Now when asked to describe me, I am an awesome Mom, a great cook and great at cleaning. Hmm........ what happened?
Somewhere along the way my husband has forgotten I'm still a woman, still need to be told I'm beautiful, still need to know I'm loved and appreciated for my importance in his life. He calls me high maintenance and needy because I ask for hugs, or to cuddle or told I'm pretty. I don't think that's high maintenance, but I do feel it's necessary for a healthy relationship if both parties needs are being met.
He needs a clean house, he needs domestication to feel secure, is visually stimulated this way and feels I appreciate what he contributes to the family, but more importantly to him personally.
I, however, have been pleading with him for as long as I can remember to open his mouth and say something just for me, acknowledge me, the woman, not the mom, not the nanny or maid, but me, inside. He's yet to comprehend my meaning I guess.
Don't get me wrong, he is an awesome man, worthy of praise and all positivity I can say, but he has to understand that a relationship is work as well as pleasure. You need to put effort in if you want any results in life, not just marriage.
There's not many women out there that have what I have, I've loved the man since I was 15yrs. old and I still get butterflies and weak kneed when he smiles at me. I honour him the best that I can and do for him anything he asks, I just don't feel it's a two way street anymore and it hurts.
It could be insecurity talking, I know that. But I needed to say it, I needed to know I'm worth it. I feel like a pitcher of water, at one point I was full, but with each need of his I refill his cup, and refill, and refill. He has yet to refill the pitcher with fresh water and I'm tapped. It's how I'm feeling today. That's all I have to say right now.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Being Canadian and patriotic??? eh?
I am Canadian. You hear it on the beer commercials all the time, claiming our victories over fresh air, good times and beer, of course. I don't drink anymore however, but enjoy the commercials none the less. It's the patriotism in them that get me. I never used to be a land lover, however there are many times I've stood up for my country. I have had close relatives in Iraq fighting over there and thank God they have all come home safe, but ironically it has been the Olympics that has made me feel North Strong and True.
To know me this news would be astounding because I hate, and have always hated watching sports on T.V. It was never my thing before this year. I kinda fell into it too, My eldest wanted to watch the speed skating and I figured no reason to crush her Canada pride, she could watch the one event, then I'd rapidly change the channel to something worthy of my attention. But something happened... I watched it with her, I paid attention and didn't burst into flames in a blaze of boredom! Nay I enjoyed it!!
Suddenly I was recording those 'more interesting' shows so I could watch more Olympics. First speed skating, then snow boarding, skiing, ice dancing, and to be honest... curling! Now I shutter to admit the curling part as I have NEVER given it more attention than to recognize it's curling and change the channel, but suddenly it was interesting! How they curved that rock to get around the other one, the frantic brushing of the ice to gain speed, blah blah blah. I have got Olympic fever! Canada is renowned for our Hockey, no no, it's true. And to be fair, out of all sports shown on T.V. That was the only one I ever watched growing up, not fanatically, but watched my home team. (back when we had a home team, sniffle) So hockey was OK. I have found myself responding to the Canada Hockey games as if in a commercial! Arms jutting to the sky with a hearty "score" ripping out of my lungs the moment the puck touches the net! I feel a little silly admitting this but I teared up a few times, just so happy for Canada! So now my heart is aflutter at the thought of the Canada - USA game. (knock on wood) The woman's team won the Gold against them yesterday 2-0. (for those of you currently residing underneath a rock) and despite the rude celebratory issues of the after game, we deserved it. The USA team has ritual where in they all take turns stomping on the Canadian flag prior to their face off with us.... so the fact that we rubbed it in a little with the beer and cigars on ice after the gold was handed out??? I'd say a little more than understandable, not agreeable - but understandable. The men's USA team however will retaliate for it I'm sure. So us friendly Canadians are used to these tactics from them. The high sticking, interference and unsportsmanlike conduct is to be expected. Canada can take it, we're used to people not taking us seriously, and that will be their downfall, Cause Canada is going to wipe the podium with their jerseys and washing their feet with USAs tears! Let just hope the USA men's team can hope their eye faucets better than the woman's hockey team!
GO CANADA GO!!!
And that's all I have to say right now eh.
To know me this news would be astounding because I hate, and have always hated watching sports on T.V. It was never my thing before this year. I kinda fell into it too, My eldest wanted to watch the speed skating and I figured no reason to crush her Canada pride, she could watch the one event, then I'd rapidly change the channel to something worthy of my attention. But something happened... I watched it with her, I paid attention and didn't burst into flames in a blaze of boredom! Nay I enjoyed it!!
Suddenly I was recording those 'more interesting' shows so I could watch more Olympics. First speed skating, then snow boarding, skiing, ice dancing, and to be honest... curling! Now I shutter to admit the curling part as I have NEVER given it more attention than to recognize it's curling and change the channel, but suddenly it was interesting! How they curved that rock to get around the other one, the frantic brushing of the ice to gain speed, blah blah blah. I have got Olympic fever! Canada is renowned for our Hockey, no no, it's true. And to be fair, out of all sports shown on T.V. That was the only one I ever watched growing up, not fanatically, but watched my home team. (back when we had a home team, sniffle) So hockey was OK. I have found myself responding to the Canada Hockey games as if in a commercial! Arms jutting to the sky with a hearty "score" ripping out of my lungs the moment the puck touches the net! I feel a little silly admitting this but I teared up a few times, just so happy for Canada! So now my heart is aflutter at the thought of the Canada - USA game. (knock on wood) The woman's team won the Gold against them yesterday 2-0. (for those of you currently residing underneath a rock) and despite the rude celebratory issues of the after game, we deserved it. The USA team has ritual where in they all take turns stomping on the Canadian flag prior to their face off with us.... so the fact that we rubbed it in a little with the beer and cigars on ice after the gold was handed out??? I'd say a little more than understandable, not agreeable - but understandable. The men's USA team however will retaliate for it I'm sure. So us friendly Canadians are used to these tactics from them. The high sticking, interference and unsportsmanlike conduct is to be expected. Canada can take it, we're used to people not taking us seriously, and that will be their downfall, Cause Canada is going to wipe the podium with their jerseys and washing their feet with USAs tears! Let just hope the USA men's team can hope their eye faucets better than the woman's hockey team!
GO CANADA GO!!!
And that's all I have to say right now eh.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Ahhh Family.
As I stated before, I am quite new to the whole blogging thing and to be honest, technology in general, but I press on. My brother, elder brother has a christian based blog that I only recently became aware of and decided to check it out as (a) I'm christian (b) I'm curious. So off I go to read his blog. Extremely well written and informative, he is a deacon after all and has always been ridiculously intelligent, scarily so. But then I see his Testimony and history or autobiographic... blah blah, so again, my curiosity is peeked.
I find the different perspectives astounding. We both grew up with the same parents, in the same house yet apparently lived completely different lives!! To be fair, he is several years my senior and male, so life for him was radically different than my own. Yet the parents he portrayed were not the parents I remember, again to be fair I was not a boy so lived a different life than he did. When he spoke of his sisters, he described me (although gratefully never said my name) as a prostitute and stripper. I thought... wow, harsh words from a man of God, let alone my brother!
Admittedly, I led a rather promiscuous lifestyle in my youth, and his gathering of facts, although exaggerated, were mostly accurate, yet when you read his perception of me, you don't think that it was in past tense, rather that I actively choose to live my life in sin and perversion.
This hurt me more than I thought it would have because I have tried mending the relationships of my siblings, and in particular, my brother and was under the impression things were coming along. To be fair, this blog was written in 2006, yet even at that time I had abandoned my wicked, evil ways long before then. I had been married five years already with all four children already born by the time this was written.
I understand it was his testimony and how he found his way to the Lord, but to depict my life to present day as sinful and perverse? I find that to be hurtful and cruel.
Again, to be fair, he probably doesn't even realize his words have caused pain to me. He is a true christian in every sense, meaning he lives his beliefs, not just talks the talk. I would like to believe were I to bring this to his attention, he would recant or at least update his testimony so as not to give such an impression, yet I'm unsure how to approach the subject with him.
Here in lies my quandary. I do respect him highly and admire his passion of good and gospel, yet I still see him as the older imposing brother, rather than a man of God first. With our rather shaky bond to begin with, I'm fearful of his reaction. I will have to ponder this more. I will keep you posted on what I decide to do.
Till then I guess.
I find the different perspectives astounding. We both grew up with the same parents, in the same house yet apparently lived completely different lives!! To be fair, he is several years my senior and male, so life for him was radically different than my own. Yet the parents he portrayed were not the parents I remember, again to be fair I was not a boy so lived a different life than he did. When he spoke of his sisters, he described me (although gratefully never said my name) as a prostitute and stripper. I thought... wow, harsh words from a man of God, let alone my brother!
Admittedly, I led a rather promiscuous lifestyle in my youth, and his gathering of facts, although exaggerated, were mostly accurate, yet when you read his perception of me, you don't think that it was in past tense, rather that I actively choose to live my life in sin and perversion.
This hurt me more than I thought it would have because I have tried mending the relationships of my siblings, and in particular, my brother and was under the impression things were coming along. To be fair, this blog was written in 2006, yet even at that time I had abandoned my wicked, evil ways long before then. I had been married five years already with all four children already born by the time this was written.
I understand it was his testimony and how he found his way to the Lord, but to depict my life to present day as sinful and perverse? I find that to be hurtful and cruel.
Again, to be fair, he probably doesn't even realize his words have caused pain to me. He is a true christian in every sense, meaning he lives his beliefs, not just talks the talk. I would like to believe were I to bring this to his attention, he would recant or at least update his testimony so as not to give such an impression, yet I'm unsure how to approach the subject with him.
Here in lies my quandary. I do respect him highly and admire his passion of good and gospel, yet I still see him as the older imposing brother, rather than a man of God first. With our rather shaky bond to begin with, I'm fearful of his reaction. I will have to ponder this more. I will keep you posted on what I decide to do.
Till then I guess.
Friday, February 19, 2010
What Happened??
As my profile states, I am a mother of four. My youngest just turned 8 a little while ago. He is the baby of the family and I do tend to coddle him above the other three. ( by coddle I mean 'baby' not favor.) He has always been a very sensitive boy. Caring and compassionate, nice to others, never causes trouble... that kind of keeps-to-himself boy. I was called about an hour ago from his principal that he and two other boys had roughed up and bullied a couple much younger kids at recess. I am stunned!
Bullying has never been something I tolerate, even in strangers I am the type to step in and intervene so this news has floored me! How could my little man, who is so sweet all the time, suddenly behave so terribly?
Now I know some people will think, well open your eyes a bit more mom, it's probably been going on awhile... but trust me when I say it hasn't. I keep a very close eye on these things, my husband works at the school they all attend, and I monitor their movements closely. The principal called me because he knows my children personally and was as stunned as I was. Gratefully he was not suspended, but will be having indoor recess all next week with his principal to be taught more on the effects of bullying.
I am at a bit of a loss over how I should approach this. I am most certainly angry and hurt that he was capable of it, but what would be the best form of discipline??
I am currently searching my heart for some Godly advice on this. He needs to understand my passion on this, the because I said so- just doesn't fly sometimes. There is nothing beneficial to it, not to the victim or the bully. But he's 8 so having a lecture drone on about it makes no real sense either.
I'm just so injured by this. I shouldn't be taking it as personally as I am, I know this. I'm not concerned with how my parenting may look to others either. My soul concern is he realize the gravity of the situation.
I had to get this out. I feel a little calmer now. He'll be home soon so I need to go pray and find some guidance for this. I'll let you know what I decided in time.
Bullying has never been something I tolerate, even in strangers I am the type to step in and intervene so this news has floored me! How could my little man, who is so sweet all the time, suddenly behave so terribly?
Now I know some people will think, well open your eyes a bit more mom, it's probably been going on awhile... but trust me when I say it hasn't. I keep a very close eye on these things, my husband works at the school they all attend, and I monitor their movements closely. The principal called me because he knows my children personally and was as stunned as I was. Gratefully he was not suspended, but will be having indoor recess all next week with his principal to be taught more on the effects of bullying.
I am at a bit of a loss over how I should approach this. I am most certainly angry and hurt that he was capable of it, but what would be the best form of discipline??
I am currently searching my heart for some Godly advice on this. He needs to understand my passion on this, the because I said so- just doesn't fly sometimes. There is nothing beneficial to it, not to the victim or the bully. But he's 8 so having a lecture drone on about it makes no real sense either.
I'm just so injured by this. I shouldn't be taking it as personally as I am, I know this. I'm not concerned with how my parenting may look to others either. My soul concern is he realize the gravity of the situation.
I had to get this out. I feel a little calmer now. He'll be home soon so I need to go pray and find some guidance for this. I'll let you know what I decided in time.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The first of Many...
I am brand new at this but I'm also quite oppinionated so this is as good a venue as any to speak randomly into the void and see what bounces back. Today is my daughters 14th birthday. I feel rather mixed about it. On the one hand I couldn't be prouder of my girl. She's always been a good kid, thoughtful, good in school, obedient etc. But on the other, I feel worse than scum because as a Mom, I want to give her nice things, new techno stuff, and whatever. Yet I find myself rather lacking in the funds department. I was, what you might say, the example parents give their young ones to "stay in school". I didn't truly grow up until it was far too late and now I struggle endlessly for money to keep my family from squaller.
I blame nobody but myself for this, yet feel very empathetic towards my children who, unfortunately have to endure the consequences of said stupidity. I pray she has a wonderful day today, and truly wish I had something to give her (other than Love etc.)
Children shouldn't grow up poor. I try hard to enrich them with knowledge, love and compassion. I am doing all that I can to rectify my financial future for their sakes, but on days like today, it just doesn't seem to be coming fast enough.
Thats all I have to say at present.
I blame nobody but myself for this, yet feel very empathetic towards my children who, unfortunately have to endure the consequences of said stupidity. I pray she has a wonderful day today, and truly wish I had something to give her (other than Love etc.)
Children shouldn't grow up poor. I try hard to enrich them with knowledge, love and compassion. I am doing all that I can to rectify my financial future for their sakes, but on days like today, it just doesn't seem to be coming fast enough.
Thats all I have to say at present.