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Showing posts from 2013

Joseph and Me

I've always loved the story of Joseph... How God could build something so amazing from such desolation. And how, even in the midst of pain and betrayal, God was with Joseph, guiding him to where he needed to be. I've always thought Joseph was amazing. To be so faithful and patient when everything inside of him must have been screaming at him to finally give in to the anger he must have felt. There had to have been moments when he wanted to give up and strike out at those who hurt him. But he didn't.

I wish I was more like Joseph. I wish I was better at reining in my anger, even when I feel betrayed. Since all this stuff with my mom happened I've felt that even more. I've felt the rebuke in Joseph's reactions compared to mine. I've felt like a failure in many ways. And I've wondered if even leaving aside my initial explosive reaction to what I see as complete betrayal, maybe my decision to live my life without her is wrong too. After all, Joseph forgave…

It's Not Over Until The Fat Guy Rides Down Broadway

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I made it! 30 days, 30 posts! I'm so excited there was nothing to do, but throw a parade.

Did I say throw? I meant go.

I love the Santa Claus parade here in Dorkton. We haven't missed it in years. It's one of our favourite Christmas traditions, and it doesn't feel right to put up the Christmas tree till we've been to the parade. It's small-town-terrific. The floats aren't fancy, but they're full of people we know, and even Santa calls out people's names as he's pulled down Broadway. Tonight Hannah and Sam (and Daddy) rode on the nursery school float dressed as presents because "Every Child is a Gift." They sure are.


Anyways, it was a great day, and a perfect end to a pretty good month. Bring on December! Merry Christmas IS my favourite time of year.

Sidetrack

I've had this post in my head for months. I figured I should save it for NaBloPoMo and a day when I had nothing else to say. It was bound to happen at least once.

There's one problem with that plan. I usually have nothing to say when I'm really tired and don't feel like writing.

Like tonight.

And now Fritti is stalking (there's really no better word for it) and pouncing Sam. So I'm tired AND distracted. I love it when he hunts the children.

Cousins

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I miss this little bum.

A Bit of a Book Snob

I called myself "a bit of a book snob" on facebook yesterday. And then someone else said she's a MAJOR book snob, and then proceeded to say something that no true book snob would ever say...

"I actually agree - and I'm a MAJOR book snob. If you watch the movie first, you're not disappointed because it doesn't live up to the book."

Wait. What? She was agreeing with some advice a friend of mine was given, which was that you should always watch the movie before you read a book because otherwise, the movie could be ruined. But if you watch the movie first, usually the book will be better, so you're all good right?

Sure. If you don't love books. Do what you like. But if you love books the way book snobs love books, you would never EVER do this.

Never.

Ever.

For a number of reasons. I'm going to list them here. Mostly, because I barely restrained myself from being a know-it-all jackass on facebook. I have no reason to do that here. It's my …

BFF BD

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It's one of my bestie's birthdays today. If there is anywhere I could be in the world today, with anyone at all... I'd pick Fiji. With my dad.

BUT ...


My second choice would be here. With her. Doing what I'm doing in this photo. The weather would need to be like it is in the picture too, obviously. Oh, Shirley. I just went through all my pictures of all our beach days, and the longing is painful really. I miss you. I hope your day was as FABULOUS as this one was.


Waiting

Oh, Christmas vacation. I can hardly wait till you get here. I can't believe I still have a whole month to wait.

Because of seeing my family and celebrating Jesus' birthday and stuff. Obviously.

Green is the Colour: UPDATED

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Don't get me wrong, we want the Riders to win. Anyone who lives in Saskatchewan does. It's the law. I think you could actually get fined if you didn't.


So if the school has a Rider Pride day, we're in. But when the game comes on, we'd rather be doing this:


Green may be the colour, but football's not the game. Not at our house anyways. We're going to move this party up to my bed after supper. I promised the boys I'd read two or three chapters of Searching For Dragons, and then we're all going to snuggle down with our blankets and our own books while we wait to find out who won the big game. Because we are interested, just not enough to watch.

I know. Nerdy. I don't know how I got so lucky.

UPDATE:

It turns out we are interested enough to watch. I don't know how it happened. I just turned it on for a minute to see the stands all green and glorious.


Halfway through the game Ben showed himself to be his mother's son. He felt bad for the o…

Ahhhhhhh!

It's almost midnight and I almost forgot to post. I blame Seinfeld.

The Living Room

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It's time for the last room! Cue the depressing before shots: 

The fireplace and lamp by the window were especially hideous, in my opinion.


And here's the after!


This room was probably the most work. After I gave up on spray painting and switched to folk art paint, the rest of the furniture came together pretty quickly. The couches, on the other hand, took a lot of fussing to get them looking nice. It is surprisingly REALLY difficult to sew tiny couch cushions, and when I ripped off the old "upholstery" I discovered that they were falling apart, so I had to cut some new pieces. In the end, I could have just made them from scratch easier, but on the upside I know how to make Barbie couches now. 


I know I said earlier that the hutch in the kitchen is my favourite piece of furniture, and it is, but I love how everything turned out in this room. The furniture and lamp look so much better than they did when I got them, and I was really happy with the fireplace …

The Kitchen

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Here is the sad before of the kitchen:

I struggled a bit with this room. I tried really hard to come up with something creative for the floor, but in the end I went with the "hardwood" like the rest of the house. What made that decision for me was remembering when I was a little girl, and how I liked to rearrange my Barbie house. I figured if all the floors were the same Hannah could move the rooms around however she liked.

Speaking of all the rooms being the same, now might be a good time to talk about the walls. Originally, my intention was to "wallpaper" some of the rooms with scrapbooking paper, but once I put all the furniture in I ended up really liking it white. I still might paint some of the walls, or wallpaper them. What do you think? Yes? No? Maybe so?

Anyways, here is the after shot of the new kitchen:


My favourite part of the kitchen is this hutch. Actually, I think this is my favourite thing in the whole house. It looks so pretty with the white porc…

The Bathroom

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The depressing before shot: 

All of the fabric that came with this house had a weird smell to it, I think from being out in the previous owner's garage maybe. I'm pretty sure I would have changed it anyways, since Hannah isn't really into blue, which is shocking, I know.

Here is the after:

This room still needs something else in it. What I'd really like is some kind of dresser, or wardrobe. A full length mirror would be great too. (Uh, check THIS out! Should I???) And it obviously needs some curtains for the window just like the bedroom, but even without that stuff it's better than it was. The bathtub was mine when I was a little girl. I "made" it (painted it pink) back when my mom was into ceramics. And can we just talk about the floors? I think they look so much better than the carpet that was originally in here. I used drawer liner on a roll that I bought at Walmart for super cheap. All I needed to do was make a pattern with some newspaper, cut out t…

This Counts

... Because I have a migraine, complete with nausea and vertigo.

The Boudoir

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So here it is. The first room I'm going to show you is the bedroom. I think it may be my favourite room, mostly because of the ceiling. Hannah loves it because it's pink. She picked the fairy fabric herself, and I was really happy with how it tured out... Sweet and whimsical. I want to snuggle into the bed with a book. All it needs is some pictures, some soft sheers for the window, and a teeny tiny Fritti asleep by the pillows...


Hannah's Extreme Home Makeover

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I know it's been a lot of Hannah lately, but this post isn't really about Hannah. It's about her dollhouse...

Last year I promised that I would show you guys befores and afters of all of the renos I did on the house I bought her before we gave it to her for Christmas, and all I ever showed you was a before, and then a few pictures of my struggles on facebook.

Well, the time has come... But I'm not doing it tonight. Her dollhouse is nice and clean, but our real house is a mess, and while ordinarily that doesn't stop me from being unproductive, we have a busy week ahead and I need the house to be clean so that I don't go crazy.

So what's the point of this post then?

I just wanted to tell you that next week is going to be devoted to befores and afters of all the rooms in Hannah's dollhouse. Partly because I think it turned out awesome, and partly because I am really struggling to come up with posts. So get ready! It's going to be like Property Brother…

Too Early

Why are there FOUR pictures of Christmas trees up in people's livingrooms on my FB newsfeed? I don't get it. I love Christmas. I really love Christmas trees. But November 16th? Really?

Really.

Dear Hannah,

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You're beautiful. Your face is so sweet. I love everything about it, smiling or sad. When I look at you, it breaks my heart, how beautiful you are. I hope that you never look in the mirror and hate what you see. I hope you always love your freckles, your pointy little chin, your bright red hair. Because you are so beautiful.

You're beautiful on the inside too. I know that it is hard to have emotions that roll over you in waves, but there is beauty in that my little love. Your heart has so much room for compassion and kindness and generosity. You have so much to give. Because you feel things so deeply, no one who you love will ever have to wonder what's in your heart, and that's an amazing gift. I hope you embrace this part of you, that came from me, that came from your Grampa. I hope you learn to use it to bring others comfort and joy, and I hope you find ways to ride the crests of the waves and not let them swamp you.

You love God. I don't know how it is that you…

I Always Feel Like Somebody's Watching Me

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DOGGONE IT HANNAH!!!

This room was totally clean this morning when she woke up. I took the picture as my excuse for another lame post today. Then, when I loaded it up on here, I noticed something in the picture that makes this post not lame at all, but AWESOME. Because I took like five of them before I was satisfied that I'd come close to capturing the devastation. And I never noticed the room was occupied till just now. Oh man. I laughed my head off when I saw him. What is he doing just sitting there like that?

No Yelling?

You may have noticed my no yelling counter has been set back a few times without any explanation. That's probably because it's really hard to not yell if you don't focus on it. I'm resetting it to zero again today. I didn't yell at anyone, but I know it hasn't been the 37 days it is saying right now.

So let's reset. And I'll try and focus on it again.

A friend offered to hook me up with a counsellor, and I've been thinking about it. I wish it was as easy to reset my heart as it is to reset my counter. Maybe I could use a little help...

The Agony and the Ecstasy

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Well, it's this kind of a day here:


And so, since it's part of the reason I'm so tired today, and to bring a little pure and perfect joy into an otherwise barfy day...

Thank You

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There aren't enough words to say how thankful I feel today.

Yesterday

Yesterday's post was so nice, I think it should count for two. So, if you're here looking for something new today, I'm directing you back to yesterday's post to look at the nice pictures and think about what things from your past are so beautiful you want to carry them forward with you into your present.

Memory Lane

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I walk down memory lane, because I love running into you.  There's a place inside of me,  where your hand still rests. I hear your laughter echo,  and feel safe in your smile again. And so I have a place, where I walk and feel you near. And down wandering paths of new memories I take you along with me.

Teddy The Porcupine

Yes. This is happening.

Can't Talk, Becca's Here

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I 'm super busy buying her hats and Smarties. Tomorrow we're all going to colour a giant picture together and make a tent. Then we might have a weiner roast and make s'mores. On Sunday we're going to make a belated Thanksgivingdinner complete with candle-light and sparkling cider, and sometime in there we want to fit a trip to the swimming pool.

I'll try and post pictures, but if it comes to a choice between Becca and NaBloPoMo, it's likely I'm going to end up slapping up a link to a funny porcupine video on youtube.

My Cat Plays Fetch

And it's awesome. He only does it with his very favourite toy, feathers on a stick, and he only does it with me. I always play fetch with him at night, once the kids are in bed. It's jsut the two of us, and a few years ago I would have thought you were crazy if you'd told me how happy it would make me.

Seriously. I love it.

The Legend of The Vomit Chain

Let me preface this post by making a request: If your child's teacher phones you and says they think your child should be picked up from school because they are too sick to be there... Listen to them. If they say something like, "He says he doesn't feel well, he really doesn't look good to me, and the stomach flu has been going through the class," listen to them.

That happened today. And the parent didn't listen. And it was EPIC. Legendary even.

When it came, the vomit was a soft pink, probably due in part to the candy the french teacher had passed out earlier. And it launched out of the child in a torrent splattering in a huge puddle at his feet. In a panic, he jumped out of his desk, ran through the puke, and desperately tried to reach the garbage can. (I can only assume the janitor emptied it and moved it at recess, because I had put it by his desk after his dad figured he'd be fine at school at least till lunchtime.) He didn't make it. Instead, I…

Uh Oh

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What is this? Day four? I've already got nothing. This is not a good sign.

And I don't feel like writing a thoughtful, emotional post.

So you get this:

Look what came in the mail today! Now I have to quickly re-read the first two, because that's how I roll. I'm pretty excited. (Also. I ♥ Amazon.) (And books. I love books.)

New Fandangled Gadget

We've been stubbornly refusing to buy Ben a Ninendo DS for years now. All of his friends have one. Some have two, an old one and a newer 3DS. It's not that we don't approve of video games, well... we don't actually. My kids are so much nicer when they know the video games are off-limits. This is why they are only allowed to play on weekends, and why I'm not worried about a DS sucking his brain out. He'd still only be allowed to use it on weekends.

No, that's not my reason. My reason is the cranky old mennonite woman in my head who likes to say things like "kids these days" and "no respect for their elders." I know that respect thing she said doesn't have anything to do with what we're talking about, but she shouts things out at random, and most of it doesn't make any sense. In her day, kids didn't walk around with fancy name-brand slacks and new fandangled gadgets. And if it was good enough for her, then oh baaaaah, it…

The Little Cat (UPDATED)

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Yes, I admit it. I haven't blogged for (almost) a month because even though I had things I wanted to write about, I knew NaBloPoMo was coming.

And today I'm going to keep on with that. I think it's a good plan. Even though I have better ideas, and things to say, I could write a post about this lost cat we're taking care of and keep saving the good posts till I totally can't think of anything to say.

Actually, that pretty much sums up the whole post. There's this lost cat living in our house. The SPCA is full to capacity. The animal rescue organization here in Yorkton is full to capacity. And I can't make myself throw this little guy out into the cold.


Fritti is NOT happy with this little act of compassion.

Hannah named it "Hannah Grace" and the boys named it "George" after Curious George and George Mallory. I call it "The Little Cat" because we ARE NOT KEEPING IT. Oh, I hope we aren't keeping it.

UPDATE: You won't beli…

Today is the Day

Today I read my book and got paid for it.
Today I let an old lady talk me into taking in a lost kitty cat.
Today I bought 7 costumes at Walmart for around 40 dollars.
Today I ate approximately 20 tiny Butterfingers.
Today I watched Sam kick a styrofoam board in half on the first try.
Today I started NaBloPoMo for the 7th straight year.


It was a good day. You know how I can tell? I would only change one of those things. And the only reason I'd change it is the heart burn. (I wonder if you can guess which one...)

Rain

I remember the day of Mavis' funeral. I remember the weather was beautiful. The reason I know this for sure is I remember riding in the back of Dad's car out to the graveyard and looking out the window at the blue sky and everyone driving to wherever and thinking how wrong it was. Everyone was just going on about their business like nothing had happened. The whole world was happy, and it shouldn't have been. Someone really special was gone, and I wanted people to notice.

At least, at LEAST, it should have rained.

When I asked people on facebook to send stories about Dad, it really was all about the stories. I wanted to laugh and remember Dad. I wanted to maybe even find out something about his life that I hadn't known before. But when all the stories came in and I felt better I realized something. Although I loved reading them, it wasn't the stories that were making me feel better. It was the rain.

Outside, the sky was blue, the fall leaves were beautiful, people…

This

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This is now the week I spend in the past every year. (Actually, it's probably more accurate to say that this is the month I spend in the past.) I wish, and I hope that soon, more of it will be spent in the happier years, but still four years later I find myself spending most of it in 2009.

I think about the phone calls.

I think about the ones that were fun, and normal. I think about telling Dad about how Sam snuck a fudgesicle and then told me he hadn't with chocolate all over his face. I think about him skyping with Ben, eating cheezies and making faces. I think about being able to hear his voice and feel like things would be okay. I miss that feeling... That everything would be okay. I haven't felt that way since he died.

I think about the really hard phone calls too.

I think about the night that Mom called in the early morning hours and how terrified I was to answer, only to find out he was okay physically, but upset and needing someone to talk to... Someone to distra…

Why Think When You Can Pin?

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Holy moly, do I love Pinterest. There are so many great ideas on there, that I could conceivably never have to think again. It led me to this great tutorial to make magnets from those little clear rock things that you can put in vases, and teachers like to use as math counters...


And bam! Cheap and cute teacher's gift the kids can make themselves, and I can package so they look all adorable. I never would have thought of this on my own. (Or this, for our principal. We did that too.)

Tonight I'm using some printables I snagged off of Pinterest to make summer journals for the kids to write in while we're on vacation. Tomorrow I'm going to put together the nifty fire starters I found for camping... It never ends, I tell ya.

I love not thinking. It's fab.

Defender

I talked to a close friend of my dad's about all of this mom stuff a few nights ago. I knew what he would say, but I still wanted to hear him say it... I knew my dad. Any mistakes he had made were covered by the blood of Christ. He was a changed man, and what I saw, what we all saw, was who Dad was.

But first he said something else, and it resonated with me. It convicted me. Right off the start he said I needed to grasp and hold onto the truth that God is my defender.

I have trouble with that. If I see something that I feel is wrong, or unfair I often take it on as my resonsibility to fix it. I find it incredibly difficult to sit on the sidelines when someone is breaking the rules. This can be one of my strengths, because I am one of those people who takes action and tries to stand up for what is right. It can spur me on to help people who are suffering.

But, it can also be one of my biggest weaknesses. It can make me judgemental. It can make me critical. It can even make me int…

Sunday is No-Funday

I had to move my counter back again.

I'm on a losing streak. Two Sundays in a row. Next Sunday either we're not going to church, or Glen is going to need to do Hannah's hair.

OR I'm going to have to learn to be a grown-up when Hannah starts swinging her head around like she's watching a tennis match.

Whichever.

Crazy, Stupid, Love

I watched Crazy, Stupid, Love tonight.  What a great movie! I laughed, I cried, it moved me Bob. (Gold star to the person identifies the episode that quote comes from.) But seriously, it moved me. I think maybe it was just the right movie for me to watch tonight. I think there was something I needed to hear, to think. Ever since getting my mom's horrible letter something has been changing inside me. Melting, is maybe a better word. And I was ready to hear something.

"I have loved her even when I hated her... only married couples'll understand that one..."

I've screamed "I hate you!" at Glen in a lot of fights. Not until fairly recently, but once it was out the first time it got a lot easier, and came a lot more often. In my head, if I hated him I couldn't love him. In my head that part of me was gone. I'd fought hating him for so long, I'd held onto loving him, to TRYING for so long. And I was tired. So I gave up. And I hated him. And in ma…

Divide and Conquer

It's that time of month again people.

I say this, not to explain my post from yesterday, but to explain why tonight I did something different. Here's some more background information: It's hot out. I'm crampy. I'm grumpy. I had a long day of subbing. The house is a mess and it's hot out. (I mentioned that already, but don't you think a messy house is worse when it's hot out? I do. I can't explain why...) And I feel the usual monthly migraine coming on. Right now it's still just my neck, but it's coming and all I want is to lie all still in a cool, quiet, dark, CLEAN room.

Since it's June, off-loading the kids on Glen and disappearing isn't an option. No quiet dark room for me. So, I had to come up with a plan. And it worked so well I wanted to share it here. I bet you can guess what it was.

Divide.

The kids have taekwondo on Tuesdays, which means they come home from school, have a quick snack, go to taekwondo, come home, BATH, eat, …

My Downfall

I knew it.

I knew eventually doing Hannah's hair would be my downfall. There's only so many times a mom can tell a kid to stop moving their head before they yell it... "HANNAH, FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING GOOD AND DECENT AND ADORABLE... HOLD!!! STILL!!!"

And it's not just the fact that I have to say it over and over. Every now and then when I tell Hannah to hold still for some reason her brain translates my words as "Hey kid, shake your head from side to side a whole bunch really fast." I don't know why this happens, but I do know it makes me crazy. I also know it takes a LOT of intense concentration to resist yelling in this circumstance. I'm getting really good at it, as my previous 35 days without yelling can attest to. 

BUT, every now and then she does that AND I'm in a really big hurry. It's the perfect storm. This is what happened yesterday before church.

So I'm back down to zero. I yelled... And not just my exasperated yell, my me…

Worries

It's a little after 10 pm. The kids have been in bed for an hour and a half. And Ben comes down the stairs. His lip is quivering.

When his lip quivers my heart always breaks.

I open my arms and he comes and lays beside me on the couch. His head rests on my chest and he's crying. He's worried. He figures he only has 18 years left with Fritti before Fritti dies. And then I can't understand what he's saying. I rub his back while his tears soak into my shirt, and I wait till he can talk again.

He doesn't want to move away from home. He only has 10 more years to live with us, he says. And then more tears. And more words I can't understand. I stroke his back some more, and wait a little longer till he runs out of things to say.

And then I tell him he can live with us as long as he wants. I tell him we will never make him leave. He only has to move out when he's ready.

And I think of the day when he will be ready. I know he'll be ready long before I will…

I Don't Get It

So.

I want to finish this story. I thought I actually had. It went like this: A bunch of crap happened between my mom and me. I got mad. I told off my mom and Dave. I said something I shouldn't have. She wrote me a horrible letter. She said stuff she shouldn't have. I burned it. She said she just wanted to live in peace and I was okay with that. Done.

Then she called Gramma. My dad's mom. And she continued her efforts to drag the past into the present by telling gramma the things she'd told me in the letter and then some. She also made sure to explain to my gramma how awful I've been. And then she told my gramma all... ALL of the things I'd ever told my mom about my marriage in confidence, years ago when things were at their worst. Things I haven't told other people. Not just things about me. Things about Glen.

She also called my aunt. And I...

I mean, why?

What could possibly motivate a person to do something so hurtful? I have a few theories, but honestly, …

And Then I Did This

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And I felt much better.

And then I tripped over the gas can that I had carefully set away from the fire. And then I thought I should probably do something about the gas that had spilled on the lawn so that the next time we have a fire a spark doesn't set off the gasoline under someone's lawnchair. So then I lit the ground on fire. Which would have been a better plan if a little trail of spilled gasoline leading to the nearby can hadn't also lit on fire and then lit the gas can on fire. So then I tried to pour the fire out of the gas can onto a nearby flower bed. That didn't work. So then I ran around the yard a little with the flaming gas can in my hand looking for something to smother the flames with. I found a piece of cardboard. That worked. So then I just had to put out the fires in the flowerbed and lawn. Which I did. But then I rememebered my original concern about the lawn starting on fire from a spark. So then I lit the lawn and the flower bed back on fire and …

Letters

I wrote a letter to my mom after I called her on the phone the other day and blew up at her and Dave. I left it on my computer for a few days so I could edit it before I sent it. I wanted to make sure I didn't say anything I'd regret.

Here it is: (I've taken out a few things that mention how Mom has treated other members of my family, for obvious reasons.) 
Mom, 

I'm sorry I said **** off. Not because I didn't mean it, and really I meant it more for Dave and his intrusion in the phone call than for you, but I regret that I said it. Partly because it's not a nice thing to say, but mostly because it means I let this situation get the best of me and I let my anger speak for me. Again. And that wasn't the plan when I called. The plan was to calmly tell you what I think of who you have become, before I close the door on this part of my life. And I did that. 

I'm pretty sure you didn't listen to any of it though. So here is what I wanted to say. First, I…

I'm Done

I yelled today. But I'm not turning back my counter.

First off, let me just say that I believe no one should ever have to choose between their spouse and their children. Love should be multiplied, not divided. (Gold star to the person who knows where I got that line from.) But that choice has been made. By my mom. Over and over.

I haven't really written about it here because I think some things should stay private. I try to think about my kids reading my blog someday in the future. Would I be okay with my kids reading about all the nasty things I have to say about their grandmother? And then, would I be okay with my mom reading those same things? Up until today, the answer to that question was, "No."

I don't feel the same way anymore.

So prepare yourself for the whole story. I've told it to some of you, with many tears, and frequent breaks for chocolate or hugs or laughs. I'd like to write it out though, once and for all. Like a purge.

I'm done with …

My New Old Bike

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When I was a little girl there was no money for new bikes, so my dad bought me one from a junk heap in some guy's backyard. I remember his last name was Hamm, and my bike cost $10.00, and I could still point out the house we bought it from in Martensville. I also remember him telling me that he'd fix it up nice for me, and picking out the can of sky blue spray paint from Canadian Tire. He bought me a plastic white basket and rainbow streamers for the handle bars.

I loved that bike.

I've been wanting to buy one like it for years now, but I've never found one that was the exact right whimsical shade of blue. And if it was the right colour, then it wasn't the right style of bike. Lately though, I've seen more and more old fashioned looking bikes. Last year there was a red one at the lake that I thought about stealing and spray painting more than once.

And then today as Hannah and I were walking to pick up our van from the garage where it was getting a tire fixed…

Out Of Nowhere

21 days. That's my new record. And now my new goal, since I yelled at the kids tonight and I'm back to zero. And it came out of nowhere, or that's how it seemed, but when I sat down afterwards and thought about it, it didn't really. 

We were having a good day, a GREAT day even. We went to the park, we hung out in the backyard, the kids played together like angels, and then helped me clean up the yard with no complaining. And then they got in the bath and acted like idiots, because they're kids. And when I told them to stop acting like idiots, (not in those words) they didn't. 

Nothing ticks me off faster than kids who continue to laugh and fool around after they've already got in trouble for not doing what they're supposed to be doing. And yelling stops that. Cold. And it feels good to make them take you seriously. And yelling makes that happen. Boy does it. 

It wasn't a huge outburst, but it was enough to know I blew it. In the past after that …

Stronger

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It hasn't been a day of yelling, but it hasn't been a good day for me. There are times when I feel unequal to who God wants me to be, to who I want desperately to be. Today has been one of those times. Not that I've screwed everything up today, just that there is so much riding on my choices, ALL of my choices... And I get one chance to do this right. One chance to live this life, one chance to raise these children, to be a blessing to others, one chance to make today mean something more than just another 24 hours lived and left behind... So today I feel unequal, but not unloved.


This is what I must hold onto. Not my strength, but Yours.

Yelled

Yelled today. Sort of. I'd have actually said I wasn't yelling, just talking loud, but Sam came upstairs with a friend while I was in my room with the phone, and he said, "Oh, they're screaming. We'll ask later."

Sigh.

So I have to change my counter back to zero from seven days. And don't think that those seven days came easy just because you haven't heard about them. They came hard. Hannah never quits. She even head butted me one day and then screamed at me "OWE MOMMY! YOU HEAD BUTTED ME!" and I managed to keep my cool while she argued with me about whose fault it was that she climbed on the couch and bonked her head on my stationary head. I had to eventually send her to her room. Seriously. She NEVER quits.

It seems unfair that I have to start my counter over for yelling at Glen. Especially since he was being a total tool, and yelling at me on the phone even after I told him more than once to stop yelling at me. And even then... I didn'…