And with that, birthday season is a wrap!

"Boys are sons until they're married, girls are daughters until they're buried, ."

I take exception to that. As close as I am to my precious, wonderful daughters, I must admit I have a different kind of bond with my son.

Perhaps its because he is my only one; perhaps its because his size allowed me to pick him up and hold him on my hip much longer than I was able to with my girls. Maybe it was because he let me do just that and they didn't. I don't know. But I will say that of all three of them, he is the most like me. Of course our different genders give us some very different looks and personality traits, but of them all, he is the one I see myself in. From his soft heart, to his perceptiveness of situations and other people's reactions, his need to plan things out and be secure in his surroundings before he is comfortable; we come at the world in a very different way, but react to it much the same.

Now my baby boy is eleven years old.

In case you're wondering, no I didn't forget to blog on Owen's birthday.

The truth is: we were busy. Not "I had to work" busy, not "the laundry had to be done" busy, but honestly, truly busy - spending time with our birthday boy. He is at an age where conversation is interesting rather than an excercise in manners and word correction and his humor keeps me cracking up all day. It was a Saturday and it was a day spent entirely with him. It was so nice to watch him show genuine gratitude for the gifts he was given and to realize how fortunate he is to have some great friends around him.

Even his party was relatively stress free compared to years past. Gone are the days of a dozen kids climbing the walls, wrecking the house and leaving me cleaning up their trail for days. Gone are the expensive and pointless loot bags I always dreaded having to be creative enough to make and the opening of countless spiderman toys (not that they weren't all appreciated at the time!) Now we can enjoy watching him and his buds being pals, chasing eachother with nerf guns and taking turns on his newest video game. We order a pizza, cut the cake, open gifts, and send them down stairs. Done!

I say this every year, but it never loses its truth: I am so shocked another year has passed. As I watch all my kids grow, I am incredibly proud of the great people they are becoming and so absolutely, positively, grateful they are mine :)

30 something...

Today marks another year of life. Another chance to accomplish my goals, to enjoy the ones I love and to try and leave my mark on the world.

Today I am officially in my mid 30's.

I'm not someone who gets hung up on age. I have many friends of all ages and seem to fit in just fine. My health has not been the greatest since turning the big 3-0, but I don't necessarily blame it on age.

So I went into today excited to be with great friends who had come to visit, and secure in the knowledge that I would be spoiled by my family and maybe get a little extra attention from a few friends. What I didn't expect was the onslaught of messages, the veritable outpouring of love and good wishes from the vast majority of my several hundred Facebook friends.

I heard from new friends, old friends, local friends and those very far away. I heard from people I have known for almost my entire life and from those who only come out of the woodwork once in a blue moon. I got love from all corners of the world and from people I never imagined I meant anything to. And not just the simple greetings either. I got beautiful, sincere, heartwarming messages from so many.

And my heart was indeed warmed.

As the messages filled my Facebook wall, my email, my phone from texts and calls, I realized that this is my mark on life. This is one thing I know I'm good at, that I treasure above all else - that I am nothing without: friendship.

No words can describe how loved I felt today. On top of a wonderful day spent with my truly wonderful family, the best present I received was in knowing that I was surrounded by so many well wishes and words of friendship. Each memory recalled was a gift. Each person, someone who meant a great deal to me in some way. I sincerely hope they all know just what today meant to me; something tells me that they do.

With that thought in mind, I just may get through the next 35 years!

Confessions of a busy mom

I'm drowning in a river of guilt.

After a busy start to the week, we got up this morning and realized that both Rhian and Owen had skating with their classes today at the community center. Not only did I not have their skates and helmets unearthed from last year's skating trips, but I was totally unprepared for Rhian to burst out with, "So are you coming Mommy?"

True, I was off today. True, I didn't really have solid plans. But when I have one day off in a week, thats a full day. Between groceries, laundry, dishes all over the kitchen, floors to wash and several errands to run - I had a full day.

But didn't I have one hour to spare?

Of course I did. But I didn't really have another one later on in the day to go with Owen's class (and I'm very careful to do for one what I do for another), then come home to make supper before making sure all homework is done and then rush out the door by 5:30 for dance and cadet drop off, only to run home for cubs pickup. Geesh, when did life get so busy?

So I didn't go. I thought about her at 10:45 when I knew she'd be getting her skates on. I tried to forget her telling me not to worry about how she'd get them on since another one of the moms she KNEW would be there would help her. Yeah, that one hurt.

But during that hour I was at the store getting the cereal they asked me for and replacing the bananas they told me were gone. I came home to wash the skinny jeans she asked me to clean and to make the cookies I know she will be very happy to discover after school.

So I can't do it all. I guess I'm going to have to accept that. In the meantime I will meet the kids at the door when they arrive and ask about their day over warm cookies. I will listen to the stories about skating and hope they don't hold it against me that I wasn't there.

There truly is nothing like a mother's guilt.

Only the Good Die Young

Death is not something I'm good at.

Some may think that's a good thing. I for one, think its pretty scary. I am about to go into my 36th year and have never lost anyone close to me. There was my grandmother, 5 years ago, but even we had not been close for many years. I remember flying to Toronto for her funeral, something I felt strongly I had to experience, having no idea how hard that was going to be. Then panic struck me: what in the world would it be like to lose someone I had actually known and shared happy memories with? I've been to funerals before of course, but always for people I had barely known.

All of a sudden I began to feel like I was "waiting for the sword to drop", so to speak. My parents are in their 70's and have a myriad of health problems, all our family is now far from us, and lets not forget we watched my mother in law battle lung cancer a few years ago. Surely it will be my turn to experience a loss sometime. I'm not certain anyone is ever really prepared to deal with death, but what to feel when its never really touched your life?

Today we received news that a friend from back home in Greenwood passed away very suddenly yesterday, following a tragic skiing accident. This was a man we spent a lot of time with, who has coached my kids, who played Masters soccer with my husband, who was the President of our small soccer committee on which Steven and I both served for years. He was a fixture in our lives for a long time and I am having trouble understanding how he can be gone. I can't get my head around the fact that he has passed, never mind how his wife and two young sons will pick up their lives and live with this.

I've learned a lot in the past year about losing a loved one from a very strong friend of mine who lost her husband 5 years ago in Afghanistan. She is possibly the most solid, grounded person I know and through her I am pleased to know that hearts do heal and although one never forgets, one can continue living a very fulfilling life.

That is what I wish for our friend's wife and sons. I wish them peace, serenity, much love and support to get through the next months. I wish strength also for those of us who had the privilege of knowing such a funny, life-loving and giving man, and who will always feel his loss. He was a well known figure in the community; a person would be hard pressed to find a resident of Kingston/Greenwood whose life wasn't touched in some way by him. I, for one, feel very lucky to have known him.

For the record, I no longer feel that dealing with death gets easier as you experience it.

RIP Dave Morse.

King of the Castle

Owen had a bad day yesterday.

He walked through the door full of tales about the intricate system of snow forts in their school yard, who controls the various pieces of real estate and how a mean spirited group were systematically taking them over.

Gee, that sounds familiar.

Not only is this a story straight out of my childhood elementary school, but a very simplistic example of the "real world".

There was ranting, some very real frustration...and then a plan was made. No way was my son being pushed out of a fort he'd worked hard on, nor was he allowing it to be destroyed. I felt like I was watching a disgruntled employee formulating a plan to secure his much valued job...or possibly planning a takeover! At the very least, he would defend his territory at all costs.

Today he came home from school smiling. The first thing I asked was, "How go the snow fort wars?" He beamed and told me, "Great, we joined the group that destroyed ours....then when the bell rang we kicked it in!"

Yikes.

My first reaction was to berate him for stooping to their level. Then he went on to describe the new set of rules the VP had devised. New laws, of you will. Seems there were far too many territorial squirmishes going on and they felt the need to regulate things a bit. This idea amused me and I will admit, impressed me more than a little. Owen wasn't nearly as impressed. But after a good discussions on the need for rules and the parallels between this childhood angst and real life situations, he conceded to the necessity.

So in the end we turned it into a teachable moment, and I was secretly proud that my kid came out on top. Is that the right approach as a parent? Who knows. But for today all is right in the world, or the playground I suppose, and here in the real world we know that sometimes that's all we can ask for!

I'm the king of the castle, and you're the.....well, you get it.

Tales of a Birthday Girl

There's a teenager in my house.

I remember a time, not so long ago, when I had a little girl with pigtails and brightly colored fingernails dancing through the living room on her way to change her outfit for the 10th time that day. I recall birthday parties with 14 classmates dressed in full princess garb descending upon us for a tea party fit for a queen. Years of makeovers, princess cakes, movie-themed sleepovers and marble cake. Always marble cake.

This morning I woke up on January 11th, and as I do every year, watched my little girl eat her birthday pancakes and tried to see her through someone else's eyes. While she will always be that tiny girl in ringlets, holding my hand and singing a song, its important I remember she's growing up and becoming a person in her own right. What I saw made me smile.

Today the little syrup-smeared birthday girl of the past was replaced by a young lady who neatly cut her pancakes with a knife. She carefully blew out her candle and cleaned it before setting it on the table. She laughed at something her little sister said with incredible patience and reminded her brother to sit up so as not to get syrup on his sleeve. She smiled at me like an adult when I sat down to eat with them and talked excitably about the day to come. She began receiving birthday wishes via text before her feet hit the floor and expressed genuine gratitude for all the messages on both our facebook pages. After a careful outfit selection and meticulously applied layer of makeup, she was ready for her big day. I was happy to see there were pigtails in her hair today; some things never change.

She headed out the door then with two of her friends, bursting with excitement....but not before she stopped to give me a huge hug and a big sloppy kiss. She may be my height and headed into her teens, but we both know she will always be my baby girl.

And now the fun begins.

Less is More

So a new year has begun.

I am not going to launch into an apologetic diatribe about how much time has passed since my last post, or begin spewing promises to be more attentive to my blogger buddies in the new year. I do not believe in resolutions nor do I ever make them, for one simple reason: I never keep them.

I will however, resolve to revamp my previous blogging philosophies in hopes that I may find more time - and, lets face it - interest, in writing more often.

In the past I have used this site to rant and rave on a specific topic, express my feelings of the moment or to merely to update anyone who may be interested in the never ending chaos we call life. That all sounds fine here in type, but I so often found my posts becoming longer and longer and thus needing more and more time and concentration to get it all out. I eventually found myself writing in my head - as I have done all my life, as my way of sorting through things - and then feeling too tired or overwhelmed to sit and write it down. And taking my readers into account, I also realized that not everyone has the time to read such lengthy, detailed accounts of inconsequential events every day. I myself follow several blogs, and understand the need for short, concise, to-the-point posts.

So no more. From now on my intention is to write more often, but write less. I find getting my thoughts down on "paper", as it were, is my way of processing and discovering all angles of any given situation. Its how I express myself and how I think. I truly miss the time I used to devote to this stress-reliever and am hoping this year will bring simplicity to all areas of my life, most especially my writing.

Who knows, perhaps this will be the year I open my blog up to the public.

Nahhh, probably not!

Just Plain Mom

My tv has been bombarded lately by advertisements for a new movie called, "I don't know how she does it." There are clips from the movie, interviews by the actors and actresses and countless discussions on how busy a life the main character leads as a working mother and what a superior being she must be.

The whole thing makes me sick.

First of all I must admit I have never seen the movie, although I have seen enough clips and "teasers" to know I likely never will. I realize it is meant to be a celebration of a woman's strength, an example of all we as working mothers go through every day and the sheer amount of things we are able to accomplish. But to me, its just another example of the often unrealistic demands that are expected of us daily.

Yes, I have been called a Super Mom. But I don't feel super. In fact, I detest that term. It implies that if I don't perform feats of heroism and go far beyond what is expected than I am just simply "mom" and no longer worthy of the title.

I am a mother of three beautiful children. That means I have three separate personalities to raise and nurture, three people to ensure receive an equal amount of attention and love. Three mouths to feed three times a day, three children to clothe and prepare for every changing season. Three dentist/doctor/optometrist/you name it appointments to organize and drive them to, not to mention seeing to the specific needs of each child; one needs glasses, one needs braces, one wants more attention because the other two seem to be getting it for various reasons. There is laundry for three kids, cleaning up after three kids, dealing with a house full of friends of three kids....and on top of all that I work outside the home as well.

I'm not complaining, in fact I love my life. And I do have a lot of help. I am fortunate that my husband is a wonderful father and a huge help with the household, when he is home. Being a military family, however, means that often I can be "solo-parenting" for long periods of time. So life gets busy, sometimes overwhelmingly so, and to be told in the height of such activity that I must be a "supermom" to pull it all off, makes me wonder what I am in the slow times.

Perhaps I am being petty and ungrateful - it certainly sounds that way as I write it out. So I will offer an example: just the other day my husband and I drove our son into the city, which is two hours away from our town, to see an endocrinologist at the children's hospital. The appointment had been made months ago, both our schedules cleared so we could both attend, so off we went. Only to arrive and realize the appointment was in fact for three days later. My blood turned cold, my heart sank to my feet and I felt like a total idiot. There was a lot of waving away of apologies and comforting words from both the nurses and my husband ("Don't worry about it, you're a busy woman") but the truth is, I wrote it down wrong, the fault was mine and mine alone. Being busy doesn't excuse being wrong and still left the hospital staff scrambling. In the end they were able to accommodate us and we did see the doctor (who thankfully was on call and on the premises) but I am still to this day left wondering how I could have made such a mistake.

Upon telling this story to a friend later that day, it was said, "But hey, you worked it out didn't you? That's what us moms do!" But no, I didn't work it out. They did. I wanted to shout, "Don't make me look like the supermom here, I was the dumbass who wrote it down wrong and they were the ones who were nice enough to take us anyway!" Yes I am busy, yes I have a lot on my plate, but isn't it my job to keep everything organized? To always know where we are going and when?

But you see that's the trap. The "supermom trap". By giving me that label I feel I have to live up to that standard and never, ever falter. It gives me the impression that as long as I stay on top of all the laundry, the homework, the school council meetings, the multitude of appointments, than I am doing my job and therefor deserve the "super". But the reality is that I do make mistakes. I sometimes don't get to the mountain of laundry for a week and have my son complain he has no clean underwear. I have work weeks so busy that I forget to sign all three school agendas and don't realize when one isn't completing homework regularly or another has a project on the go or needs a permission slip signed. I have forgotten about birthday parties, missed class trips and realized on the first snow day that one or more of my kids didn't have winter boots that fit them because I simply hadn't found the time to go buy them. I've made my daughter late for dance class, I still haven't sewed all my son's cubs badges on his sash, and if you show up randomly at my house (which is always encouraged) you may very well find it in shambles.

But I have lots of good days too. I am very honest with work and refuse to work a full week. I am open about the fact that working full time takes too much away from my family and I simply cannot keep up. People wave that away and think I'm being modest, but its true. I need a day or two a week to catch up on my housework, my grocery shopping and just being a mom. By being honest like that I am able to have that tea party with my youngest daughter after supper and help my son with his math homework as if I have all the time in the world. I am able to have those all important conversations with my "almost teenager" about who is doing what and who likes who. Mostly I just listen, but the point is, if I'm there she talks to me and at this age, that is golden. I also make it a point to carve out some time for myself, even when it seems impossible (and admittedly its easier now that my kids are getting older and all in school) and I have learned to ask for help when I need it. That was a big lesson that was a long time coming.

During one of those daytime tv interviews regarding this new movie, the co host of the program, also a working mother of 3, said, "My goal is at the end of the day to have only disappointed everyone just a little, because I know I can't do everything right and please absolutely everyone." Well said. I do what I can and when I make a mistake, it only makes me human. I don't need the specter of some over achieving, always perfect, never unwavering...supermom to make me feel less than what I am: a good mother doing the best I can in a busy life.

What ever will I do with myself when they're all raised and gone?

Fighting Back

When Morgan came to me a couple of months ago and said she wanted to form a team of her friends for the Relay for Life here in Petawawa, my first thought was: I don't have time for that.

It shames me now, to remember how I considered all the things I had on my plate - three kids, hubby away, full work schedule, dance/cubs/soccer, all the things of our hectic life - and decided I didn't have time to take on anything else. Then I looked at her. I mean really looked at her face and into her eyes, and saw excitement, passion and a whole lot of hope. She was standing there asking me to help her continue this journey she started last year, to help raise not only money for a cause we care very deeply about but also awareness among her young friends as to how they too can help. The details of life don't occupy her mind, only the joy of the moment and the enthousiasm she is known for. So my answer was a simple, "Of course sweetheart."

What ensued was two months of awe inspiring behavior. Amid the daily chores and struggles we all contend with, I watched 9 young women learn what it is to give back to the world that has given them so much. I watched them swallow their fear and march up to the doors of perfect strangers to announce their participation in the Relay and ask for their support. I listened to them talk about the people in their lives that they have either supported through or lost to cancer, sad that they have had to cope with such things at this tender age. I have been witness to their hard work on behalf of this team, their determination and above all a level of enthousiasm the likes of which I have never seen...all for the sole purpose of fighting back against this terrible disease that none of us can escape entirely.

The culmination of all our efforts came together two days ago, when relay day finally arrived. I woke up to Morgan's resounding cheer of , "ITS RELAY DAY!!" and I'm happy to say the excitement never waned. The kids hit the field after school, donned their matching shirts and came together in an impressive fashion to show cancer that they are fighting back. We were lucky enough to have Morgan's nanny - my wonderful, beloved mother-in-law - with us as our own, personal cancer survivor. The father of one of our girls is also a survivor, and I will say that having those yellow shirts walking among us certainly put things into perspective.

There are many moments I will never forget, but a few stand out.

While gathered at the stage for the opening ceremonies I glanced over a saw a young boy of about 9 or 10 - much like my own son - swinging from a sign post and giggling. I smiled and was about to look away when he turned and I saw he was wearing a survivor's shirt. My blood froze, tears immediatly sprung to my eyes, and my heart ached for all the things that child has had to endure while my son has led such a happy, normal life. I then looked beside me at my husband's mother, also in her survivor's shirt, laughing with her sister who surprised her and made the trip to our town to see her. She alone has touched so many lives, enriched them greatly and continues to inspire us so much - it terrifed me to realize we could have lost her. I chose this year to run for Steven's little cousin Jaymee as well, who at a very young age began the battle for her life against this monster. I am so pleased to say she is now doing very well and living the beautiful life of a happy 9 year old child.

Later in the night I lit a luminary for a friend back home, who very sadly lost her father to cancer and who still misses him every day. I had a tear in my eye as I did so, thinking how unfair it is that she should be without him. I sent out a silent prayer for him that he might know how much he is loved and missed to this day. Once all the luminaries were lit and we had made our laps to see them, take pictures of how they spelled out HOPE, and commented how beautifully they lit up the whole track, I realized the scope of just how many people have been given that terrible diagnosis in our community alone. It spurred me on, gave me the boost I needed to keep up the walk, continue the fight and to never stop striving for the cure we so desperatly need.

The night was filled with laughter, tears, excitement, fear, love and friendship - but most of all it was filled with hope. There is hope in what we are doing, we can change the world one research dollar at a time, and I for one, will never stop.

I can hardly wait for next year's relay :)

"Why can't we all just get along?"

When I was much younger - as in before the kids - I can remember assuming the hardest part of becoming a parent was getting used to caring for another human being. Trying to figure out how to rearrange my life to accomodate the baby, trying to wrap my head around the very idea of a baby, and of course the most infamous issue of all: lack of sleep. Of course all those things are legitimate hurdles, but as most of us do, I forgot that they are only babies for such a precious short time.

The other day I found myself comparing parenthood to that of getting a new puppy; in the beginning the puppy is little, cute and oh so lovable...and then they grow up. It sounded better than it looks here in writing, but my point is that once the baby is a baby no longer, what remains is a real person with real people problems. We are now way past the baby stage for all three kids. No more diaper changes, midnight feedings, teething pains or baby food. Gone are the cribs, the play pens, car seats and baby swings. How silly of me to assume this was the stage we could "sit back, relax, and raise the children." Haha, yes, I actually said those words once.

As the children grow and develop, I am continually amazed at what wonderful people in their own right they are becoming. I am thrilled to find that Morgan, who's personality has closely resembled her father's for so long, is a writer much like me! In fact, although she has never read any of my writing beyond my ever changing facebook statuses, her writing style is extremely similar to mine. Likewise, I never realized how funny Owen is. Of course every child is amusing and makes his parents laugh from an early age, but I'm talking about real comedic skill. That child is beginning to come out with lines with perfect delivery and timing that puts any comedian to shame. Life at the moment is a constant flow of preteen jargon, an ever changing line up of "best friends", daily accounts of playground shenanigans as told by the instigator himself, and random bursts of energy and song added by Rhian who refuses to be left out but is still living the pure, simple life of a happy 6 year old.

And so it was when this past week an innocent comment made by a curious and caring family friend sparked a conversation that changed a 12 year old girl's outlook on friendship for life. To make a long story short, she had been getting really close really quickly with one of the girls in her larger group of friends and it was slowly beginning to exclude the others. At this age girls, especially social girls like Morgan, tend to herd themselves into large groups, but pair into smaller ones of 2 or 3 from time to time. It may have to do with a project they are assigned in specific groups, the kids who happen to live nearby and are handy to hang out with over a weekend or holiday, or just the way a day happens to progress. But while birthday parties and dances bring out the group as a whole, sleepovers and after school phone conversations (or should I say skype conversations!) are usually done in small, select groups. I was just beginning to notice that everything seemed to be centred around this one girl all the time and never the others anymore, when I learned that she was telling the other girls to leave Morgan alone, that she was "her friend." I was appalled by this and upon bringing it up with Morgan, stunned to find out that not only has she been doing this for some time,trying to control everything Morgan did and said, she had also decided the day before that she was tired of Morgan now, and was moving on to someone else. Thus, a "Fairweather Friend."

It broke my heart to see Morgan's tears, to hear her wonder what she did wrong and then to have her ask, after I explained the concept of the fairweather friend to her, "but that's just not nice!" But you know, these are the lessons of life. As much as we want it to be so, not everyone will be nice to our kids all the time. She is the center of our world, but to the other kids on the school grounds she is but another kid to accept or discard at will. At 12, Morgan needs to learn to spot these kinds of friendships, to be strong enough to know that she is not at fault when someone else is dealing with their own issues, and that you cannot be friends with everybody. We talked about different kinds of friendships, from the acquaintances that come and go in life, to the ones that stay with you through thick and thin. The kind of friendships that can be sustained through all manner of changes, re locations, and through time itself are rare but the most precious of all. She has experienced this, knows its value and is happy to have it to lean on during times like these. After all, at this tender age, the world feels like its has come to a standstill and turned upside down!

As much as I enjoyed rocking my babies to sleep and holding their tiny hands while they learned to walk, I am now over joyed to be experiencing life through the eyes of my growing children. They are all unique, the lessons I have long since forgotten are new again, and I am thoroughly impressed at the people they are becoming.

Lets hope I can still say that in a few years when they are officially teenagers.

To Sum up a Winter

Added to the the shock of realizing that once again I have let three months pass without a single post on here, I am now wallowing in a sea of guilt. Not only have I gone back on my promise to update my blog regularly, but whereas my last post was all about Morgan and her big birthday, Owen's 10th birthday in March didn't even register a comment on here. My poor, poor, middle child.

Contrary to what my silence infers, we have been very busy since that first week in January. My mother ended up extending her stay to month with us, the details of which I will leave for another time. Suffice it to say it has left me with a lot to think about and has led to some personal changes I am trying really hard to enforce in my every day life.

January was also a month of job searching for me. I couldn't really say what made me feel the urge to suddenly go out and seek employment with such determination and fire - I was safely on unemployement for another three full months. But for some reason I woke up one day feeling like it was imperative to get my resume out there and let the cards fall where they may. Looking back, I see now that had I not done that at precisely the time I did, I never would have gotten the job I have now. I will never again lose sight of the fact that everything happens as it should.

With Steven still away and my mother having moved on to Kim's in Toronto, February was a long, stressful month of full time training hours and very little sleep. I have started every grown-up job I've ever had in the stormy month of February - I will say again that I don't miss those blustry, cold, slippery drives to work in the dark, early mornings! But it passed, as all things do, and I am happy to be doing the job I love in a new place. February is also the month I turned 34. I have celebrated many birthdays in the past without Steven and so wasn't concerned about this one. One day, however, I just happened to mention to a few friends that the kids and I were going out to eat that day, did they want to come? It turned into 19 of us and a heart warming experience for me that I'll never forget. These people, who didn't even know I existed 6 months before, all came out to make my birthday a special one. Have I mentioned yet how much I love it here?

March brought Owen's 10th birthday and the realization that our boy is really growing up. By then Steven was home from his course and thank goodness because that all-boy sleepover was one of the most stressful things we've done in a while! I am the fist one to point out that Owen is four years older than his little sister and that size doesn't matter, but sadly I continue to group him in with his younger sibling and forget that with his age comes the changes normal to any preteen. Just saying that word - preteen - in association with my son sounds strange, but its so true. One moment he is my little boy sitting on the floor playing lego, the next he is standing there in his "almost teenage boy build" asking me a question far beyond the comprehension of a child. My biggest shock of the month was a few days after he "shaved" with Daddy, as all boys do; I went to kiss his cheek and found it no longer smooth and silky, but covered in soft stubble. Oh God help me!

March also brought March Break and our visit to Aunt Kimmie's to help her and Uncle Silvano move from their two bedroom condo to their four bedroom townhouse. Once again I will leave the details of my familial conflicts for another time, but I will say I was very encouraged by our week there and we're planning another visit for this August.

April is now here, the snow is all but disappeared and we are preparing for backyard cleanups, pool openings, Easter weekend....and Steven going away again. He will be leaving for his course in Montreal on Easter Monday and apart from the weekends he is able to come home, will be gone until the end of July. I am of two minds about this course. It is important for him to have as a new member of this crew and for someone of his rank. He is "untrained" and therefor his hands are tied much of the time. For his sake, and the sake of the fast moving squadron he is now apart of, he needs to get this course completed sooner rather than later. However, I'm really disappointed it is taking him away for half of the first summer we are here. We had a lot of grand plans for pool parties, camping, backyard fires, endless days at one of two beaches here in our town, day trips and scenic drives. Most of that will now have to be crammed into the weekends he can get home - when I myself am not working - and the few weeks left of summer when he returns after the course. Or without him.

The good news is that one of our very favorite families from Greenwood are now posted to Ottawa!! We had suspected it may happen, prayed for it and held our breath all this past year until it finally became official this past month. This is the family we shared everything with, the family we consider family, and we couldn't be happier that we will be continuing the memories with them for a long time to come.

Well this has been more of an update I suppose, than one of my regular "rants" or rare moments of insight. I want to say that I will be more diligent in keeping this monologue updated regularly, but I have not proven worthy of that promise yet so I will keep it to myself for now. For the time being, lets just say that with the warm weather coming, the spring celebrations and the new Relay for Life approaching, there should be many more stories and experiences to share soon!

The Day it all began

Today was a special day. Not only was it the 12th birthday of our beautiful daughter and first born, but it marked the day that changed everything for us: the day we became parents.

The birthday of every child is important and I faithfully spend the evening before and the day of each of my kids' birthdays remembering and remarking on the miracle of their birth. I dig out the pictures, tell the story once again to anyone willing to listen (and even to those who've heard it a million times), I hug and kiss them a little more than usual and send a heartfelt thanks to God for the gift of that baby.

But 12 years ago yesterday, we had no idea what we were in for. It was a special time, a time when Steven and I went from a newly married couple to nervous, expectant parents. We were young, totally unprepared and had the odds stacked against us. But we knew two things for sure: we loved each other, and we loved our new baby. 12 years ago today, we went from the two of us against the world to the three of us against the world.

And my how far we have come! Morgan brought us an immeasurable amount of joy right from the beginning. I don't want to say that parenting came naturally to us, but she made it easy. She became the centre of our worlds and changed every fibre of our beings. Morgan made us a family, she bound us together in a way noone else could and we will forever be grateful to her for that.

12 years later I look at her and am awed by the person she has become. She is beautiful, confident, kind and giving....and a wonderful role model and positive influence on her younger brother and sister. Sometimes I look at the family we have produced and I all of a sudden wonder where they came from! At times it feels like we went from two crazy in love teenagers trying to figure out the world to two deeply in love adults with three children, completely overnight. But when I take the time to really sit and think - to remember - all the cherished memories, the first steps, the tiny giggles, the scraped knees, the highs and lows both, I become humbled at the blessings we've been given.

Its a good life, with great people to live it with. And to think it all started 12 years ago today...

Happy birthday Morgan, you'll never know how much you mean to us xoxo

Its my party and I'll cry if I want to

So another year is here and in our house that means one very important thing: birthday season is in full force. Rhian starts our family's celebrations on December 18, then we run headlong into Christmas and all that that holidays brings. By New Years I have to be planning Morgan's party, as her big day is January 11, and invitations generally go out the Monday they return to school. Steven's birthday is 3 days later on the 14th, then its mine in February (shortly after Valentines Day) and finally, Owen's on March 3rd. Add several grandparents, cousins and uncles birthdays in between all those and it makes for a busy but exciting few months. This year, however, it seems its not so exciting for at least one of us.

This year Morgan and I are having a "disagreement" over her party preparations, and I am not sure if this is the pre-teen rearing its ugly head or the case of the spoiled child who all of a sudden realizes that growing up means changes she may not be ready for. When the kids were little we always went all out to make their day special; we would have a party, invite family over and make them their choice of a birthday meal. We always said at some point we would tone it down, shorten the guest list and make the party side of it more low key. For Morgan, this time has come and she's not having any of it.

I shouldn't paint the picture that she is being ungrateful and mouthy about it, thats not fair and not Morgan at all. That would almost be better, in a way. Instead she is sullen, has lost interest in planning her party and dragging her heals about telling me who she wants to invite, what food she wants and what they may want to do. When we first started talking about her party, she began naming off all these grand ideas: a boy/girl outdoor snow party, a Rock Band Party (also boy/girl, of course), a day a the spa for her and her girlfriends, etc, etc. I immediately nipped that in the bud and told her it would be a sleepover - with no more than 5 girls - a movie, some pizza and a cake. More than I had when I was 12, I tell you that! But this is a girl who has never had a restriction on her guests, has always had her choice of venue and has enjoyed many long talked about parties in her day. She even had a kick-ass Halloween party with 10 girls overnight right after arriving here. Now I see I have done her a disservice.

There were tears when I broke the news to her, and talk about not wanting to get older. I believe I even heard the words, " its not fair." Of course I gave her the lecture about being 6 years older than her little sister (who just had a big party), reminded her of her 6th birthday party when she had 14 little girls over for a tea party, complete with princess costumes - when I had a 3 week old baby no less. I talked about how there are both pros and cons about getting older and didn't she enjoy the perks of being the oldest with her very own laptop, her cell phone, her later bedtime and the babysitting money she makes?? All very good points, which of course she conceded to in the end. So how come I didn't feel any better when she dried her tears and walked away with her head hanging down?

I know in my heart its time to tone it down in the birthday party department. I know if I keep up this pace it will get away on me very quickly and we will never be able to pull it back. I know that I just don't have it in me to pull off a gigantic party right now, after the busy holidays while Daddy is away, my mother - who is not used to a house full of preteens - is here and I am beginning a serious job hunt. This time of year money is tight, time is short and nerves are frayed. But none of those things are her fault and I hope I am not simply making her suffer for it all.

Over all, I don't feel like our kids are spoiled. They know there are people worse off than us, but there are many that are better off. They understand that we both have to work to pay for the house we live in and the cars we drive, they know money doesn't grow on trees and that with three of them they can't possibly participate in every activity out there, so they choose one. But then I look around the house we live in and see the multitude of electronics, the 5 tv's versus the 1 we grew up with, the piles of toys, the 4 computers, the inground pool...and I wonder if we're setting them up for believing life is easier than it really is. We always want our kids to have a better life than we grew up with, but our lives were pretty great growing up so have we taken that too far?

For now I feel like we're doing the right thing in cutting down her party, its not like we told her she couldn't have one at all. Something tells me, however, that when it comes to teenage tears and disappointing the kids...this is only the beginning.

Time flies when you're having fun!

Can it really be 3 months since I last wrote?

I am going to use the oldest excuse in the book and blame it on our overloaded schedule, our busy household, the hectic holidays...and it'll all be true. I had the best of intentions to write a very touching, heartfelt post about the magic of Christmas and the joy of family and friends over the holiday season, but said family and friends kept me distracted all December long!

In actual fact, I did write that blog - and many more. The truth is that I blog each and every day...in my head. I have come to realize that I don't think like most other people; I think in article form. Every time I see a character on tv with the power to read people's minds I tell myself they would give up on me as soon as they realized I don't think in sentences but rather full paragraphs! As I go about my day I compose my thoughts in essay form, correcting as I go, and sometimes scrapping an incomplete thought and starting all over again. Strange? Probably, but the point is that once I've "written" it all out in my head, it never makes it to paper. Or computer, as it were. The same happens when I get all fired up about something - my first thought is to blog it all out, much like I used to journal all my emotions when I was young. But then I rant and rave to my hubby - or the nearest unlucky individual who happens to call or be present - and I lose all interest in hashing it out again in print.

This blog, however, was all about stretching my writing muscles and having a little "me space" in this crazy life, so I am finding myself missing it. Apparently I am not alone either - I have had several people ask me just this past couple of weeks when I am going to post something else. I can't tell you how that warms my heart. I thought it would be enough to just write out all my thoughts and fears and send them out to the universe, but it turns out I love the feedback and knowing that I am actually speaking to real people out there.

There is one subject I would like to vent - I mean, talk - about, and this is family. After a wonderful, loving holiday you may think I am talking about how important family is or how much I am missing them...but you'd be wrong. I am talking about family issues.

You may or may not know this, but I have a sister. I say that because when I mentioned last month to many of the people in my everyday life that we were going to visit my sister in Toronto, the resounding response was, "you don't have a sister." Sadly, it took me much of the Fall to convince Rhian I had one as well. She of course knew her name and had spoken to her on the phone from Nanny and Grampie's, but had never seen her or heard me speak of her. The fact is, we are not close. If we go way back, you know why. If we don't, trust me the story is far too long to get in to. Suffice it to say, its been a while. Morgan remembers her well though, and Owen has been curious about her for years so since we are only a few hours away we decided to pay her a visit. All in all, I would say it was a very successful trip. The kids had a great time and were spoiled rotten, there was no tension to speak of and if you were an outsider looking in you would swear we were all one big, happy family. I think we'll stick to one night trips all the time!

Now my mother is coming to visit. I am looking forward to it, frankly. Its no secret that my mother and I are quick to play on one another's nerves but I love her dearly and she is missing the kids terribly. It will be company as well, as Steven is now gone for his much overdue course in Borden. There is some comfort in knowing he is only 5-ish hours away in case he is needed, but with the winter roads and his heavy course load, we likely won't see him until late February. In one fell swoop he will miss Morgan's birthday, his birthday, my birthday and Valentines Day. It is very typical, however, for him to be away this time of year, so we'll muddle through :)

This coming year promises to be an exciting one. Our big changes came in 2010, but 2011 is going to bring about some big changes for close friends of ours - and bring them closer to us! You may recall my heartbreak over our friend who left for Afghanistan in June, about how he, his wife and son are like family to us. Well fast forward 7 months and he is coming home in a matter of weeks....and moving the family to Ottawa this summer! Obviously, we are over the moon. To have them a mere hour and a half away is like a dream come true. Now we just have to get our friends in Edmonton here in a few years and we'll be all set!

In the meantime we are still plugging away, still very much enjoying our new home and this new town. The kids are finally all doing well in school and fitting in beautifully. We have been fortunate to have played host to many friends and family members throughout the Fall, and look forward to all the people who are planning to head our way this summer. When I look back on last New Years - which I rang in at work in the emergency room - I find myself happy to be where I am.

My wish for you all is that you all follow your hearts this year. Take a chance, make a change, fulfill a dream....live your life to the fullest. HAPPY NEW YEAR and much love xo

Thanks a Million

This is the time of year we are all supposed to take a moment and give thanks for all the blessings in our lives. I, for one, believe we all should practice this every day, but here it goes anyway...

It goes without saying I am eternally grateful for my wonderful family and friends. But of course, as is usual with the way I see things, it goes deeper than that for me.

I look back on last year and remember hosting dinner at our house with my in-laws and very close family friends. We spent the whole afternoon cooking together, laughing together, making fun of Steve and I trying to strain the gravy together (remember that guys?) Then we all squished around our tiny table in our too-small kitchen and one by one talked about what we were all thankful for. I for one, was just so thankful to be there, with all of them. This year those cherished people are far away from us, but I am so thankful for them and the memories of that day.

This Fall saw my best friend's step-father involved in a near-fatal motorbike accident that left him paralyzed, on breathing tubes and in ICU for almost a month. But alive. I am deeply saddened that this happened to such a wonderful, loving, funny and caring human being - but I am thankful he is alive and will continue to bring joy to his wife, his grandchildren and his many friends.

Two weeks ago I received news that a close friend's grandmother had passed away. While this is tragic news of course, I am grateful it was peaceful passing at the ripe old age of 80. I am thankful for having known her in years past and for the memories that will keep me laughing for years to come. She leaves behind a large family of children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren and I am so thankful she got to cherish them for as long as she did.

Last weekend Steven and I celebrated our 12th anniversary. Although I logically know it has indeed been 12 years since that beautiful candle-lit ceremony, I find it very hard to believe so many years have passed. The truth is I am thankful every day for having fallen in love with such a wonderful man; I often say that I am a lucky girl and I truly believe it to be true. I am grateful for every anniversary we have, every holiday we spend together and every moment he looks at me with his heart on his sleeve. I'll never know what I did to deserve him, but I am thankful nonetheless.

I am thankful for Rhian's smiley face the moment she wakes up, for Owen's little hand that seeks mine out when we walk down the street side by side. For Morgan's head resting on my shoulder as we watch tv together, for the laugher that erupts over the smallest comment at the dinner table. The random and unexpected I love you's I get from all my kids from time to time, good night kisses, good morning hugs....the list goes on and on. I am of course thankful that they are all healthy and well adjusted human beings, but I am also deeply thankful that I get to fall in love with their father all over again every time I look into their eyes and see parts of him there.

One hates to be thankful for material things, but I don't discount how fortunate we are to be able to provide for our children like we can. We have a roof over our heads, everything we need (and many things we don't) to live a comfortable life so I will not forget to give thanks for that.

To say I am thankful for family sounds so simple, when in fact it encompasses so much. My parents who have loved me and supported me my whole life, the wonderful family I married into who have made me feel like one of them from the very beginning. The extended family I grew up with was not a particularly close one, but with marriage came an onslaught of much-loved aunts, uncles and cousins that I thank God for every day. And then there's our military family. I have said it before and I'll say it again: we have been so blessed to have met so many wonderful families throughout our years in Greenwood, and now even our short month in Petawawa. The memories I have, the experiences we've shared, the friendships we've nurtured - I cherish them all and am so very, very thankful to have them.

When it comes to friends, I have been a greedy girl. I have managed to keep friends from all stages of my life, in one way or another, and for this I give many thanks. I still converse with friends I went to went to grade 2 with, friends I had through my nerve-wracking junior high years and the boy-crazy high school years. I have friends from university, college, several work places and countless random gatherings. I have friends I've met through my husband, from the neighborhoods we've lived in and friends met through my children. I have no intention of slowing down this collection, but felt the need to recognize them all.

This year we prepare to host our first out-of-town company in our new house and the excitement is palpable. We will sit around our brand new dining room table in our brand new dining room and remember all the people who matter to us in so many ways. We will go around the table and say what we are all thankful for and this time when I say, "family and friends", I will know I have spent my moment thinking of you all, and being grateful for everything and everyone I love.

To all my beloved friends and family all around the world: Happy Turkey Day!!

Life as we know it

I have started - and then scrapped - at least a half dozen blog posts in the past week and a half. I want to say its because I've been so busy and wrapped up in my circus of a life but sadly, that is not the case. In fact, its just the opposite; life is so slow and calm at the moment, I'm just not sure I have anything to say worth reading.

I suppose that isn't completely accurate - there is of course the ongoing saga of Owen's school troubles. Despite his very hard work and all the progress he has made, his teacher still feels he should be put on an IEP. Basically, she feels that he will have so much trouble catching up that he will never get ahead and placing him on an education plan will help him do "less work with more time" and avoid further frustrations. I disagree. I feel like "dumming it down" for him this early on only teaches him that he's not as smart as the other kids and that he needs to be treated differently. An IEP (or IPP, as they call it in NS) is a last resort, a last ditch effort to help a child finish the year at his appropriate grade level while doing certain subjects at a level more suited to him. It is something best visited later in the year, after many long months of hard work and dedication - not something offered to a new child two weeks into the school year. Clearly, I have a fight on my hands.

On top of that there have been a few "incidents" at school involving my son and other kids' fists in this stomach, among other things. He has made a few comments regarding his size ("What vegetables do I need to eat to grow tall FAST?") so I immediately assumed he was being picked on due to his rather small stature. It seems I may have jumped the gun - or perhaps he just doesn't really want to admit it. He assures me all size-related issues have so far been only verbal, with the majority simply pointing it out or asking why he is so small. It is clearly enough to bother him though, or I'm sure I would never have heard about it. Statements like "I am going to dream of being taller..." and "How much do you think I've grown since last week?" speak for themselves.

The truth is, aside from the problems we are having with our son at school, life is pretty perfect right now. I would gladly give anything to trade issues with his education or social status for less important ones like house paint and long commutes, but that isn't how life works. And as much a I try, there aren't very many negative things to say about this town or our life here. The kids love their school (even Owen continues to say it is much better than his old one), we all have many new friends (and even some old ones!), the town is easy to navigate and has everything we need at arms-length...and then there's the house. Don't get me started on the house. As much as I knew I detested our house in Greenwood, I really don't think I appreciated just how much until I moved into a house I loved. And love it I do. Its amazing how comfortable a house is when your family actually fits in it, and I've never before had such a desire to keep a house clean before now!

We miss our friends and family, of course, that was to be expected. We are finding though, through the wonderful technology of things like Skype, Facebook and MSN, our friends are never far away. Morgan regularly video chats with her friends from Greenwood after school and then again before bed, which I think has made her adjustment so smooth. I even got great advice and support from a beloved friend all the way from Afghanistan today - which I really needed - through one of these modern new communication tools. Followed up by a lovely chat with a close friend from "home" over the old fashioned telephone this evening, we are still feeling quite close to all our friends, wherever they may be.

So this post really served no purpose other than to keep the blog going, keep you all updated and to say this: please don't abandon me during my "dry" weeks; as my life picks up and our struggles in the school system continue, I am sure I will have plenty to say and will need all your lovely comments and support once again!!

Monkey in the Middle

Being married to the middle son of three boys, I am a firm believer in a little thing called "Middle Child Syndrome." I have enjoyed teasing my husband about it over the years ("Oh you're such a middle child!") but in all reality, he is and it does exist.

A middle child is never the first and never the last. They aren't the first in the family to learn to tie their shoes, to ride a bike, to go to big-kid school. They also aren't the baby, the family's last chance to experience the baby stage, the last one learn to walk, to get on that school bus, to reap the benefits of the older siblings paving the way for them. They are forever in-between. They get the hand-me-down bikes and then pass that along to another sibling when the time comes; they don't get the same praise as the oldest child for countless milestones, as by now those things are merely expected, and they forever live in the shadow of their often more successful older sibling. The most important thing to remember about any middle child is this: you can never give them enough attention. At least, not in their mind.

So knowing all this, we were hesitant to bring another child into our family, thus making Owen - our already very needy, clingy and sensitive little boy - the middle man. In fact, this is a large reason why there are four years between he and Rhian. After many years of debate, we ultimately decided that as long as we were aware of the possible affects a younger sibling would have on him, we could deal with it. Basically, we felt the pros of having another sibling far out-weighed the cons of him being the middle child. I want to report that it has never been as issue, but that would be a lie. I do believe that him being the only boy among the three helps immensely; it is so much easier to single him out and to think of "Owen-only" activities to do with him. We have tried our best to give him the attention we know he craves, without taking anything away from his sisters, and to fulfill the lonely, 'left behind' feeling common to middle children. At the end of the day however, I must admit that it is impossible not to over look the middle child at least some of the time. I clearly remember Morgan at age 5, climbing the steps to that bus on her first day of Primary, me crying and her never looking back. I also very clearly remember my tiny 4 year old Rhian, my baby, running to the bus on her first day and me being lost and deeply saddened by my empty house. But with Owen....well God love him but I don't remember that day as clearly. He was ready, he was happy, and he wasn't the first. Or the last. See how that works?

So fast forward a few years and we find ourselves moving to a brand new province. Owen, like many middle children, is fairly even tempered and laid back. He wasn't as concerned to leave his friends as his older sister, nor was he as excited as his younger one. He just took it all as it came at him. Everything was going better than expected until the day they started school. It became immediately apparent that the school system here in Ontario is far more advanced than that of Nova Scotia (which is another rant for another day) and that poor Owen was going to be in the most trouble. As far as school work goes, Owen is not a good student. That is not to say he isn't smart, in fact the kid reads far above grade level and can do more with electronics and wires than most adults, but he just doesn't care enough. He doesn't try, he doesn't apply himself and he has always gotten away with just scraping by. Until now.

I have been thinking about this a lot and have come to the conclusion that what we at first perceived as a problem in the education of our eastern schools, is probably more a problem that started right here at home. Morgan is our brilliant student. That reeks of favoritism, spelled out in bold print like that, but it has always been a known fact in our house. She, like most first children, is a self-starter, an independent worker and has always found every grade she's been in far below her capability. She does not struggle with any area of school and has made this major move - at least in the education department - seamlessly. We knew early on that Owen had to be pushed, that he just couldn't seem to focus and didn't take his assignments seriously. So we accepted that. Over the years we allowed him (not without a struggle) to do the minimum and to get away with as little output as possible, always explaining it away as him not caring and his teacher not being firm enough with him. The day he came home from grade 4 here and we realized he was WAY behind in almost every subject, I seriously regretted moving at all. They were "reviewing" their multiplication tables, while Owen had no idea what they were. They had a "reminder quiz" on the capitals of all the provinces of Canada, poor Owen didn't even know a quarter of the provinces themselves. To top it off, the kids here have had core french every day since Pre K, while Owen didn't even know how to say hello in that language.

So we did the only thing we knew how to do: we printed out a chart of the times tables and had him spend an hour each day studying them. Steven created a dice game with him to make the quizzing fun and I showed him the tricks I always used to remember the names and locations of the provinces and their capitals. We both began speaking french to him and printing off lists of vocabulary words to ask him each day. And then a crazy thing happened: he learned. In a move no one expected, Owen rose to the occasion and began memorizing and understanding faster than we ever imagined he could. There were some bumps in the road, yes of course, and some tears, but the progress is remarkable. I realized the root issue when I asked him one day during his homework why he was crying. The answer wasn't "its too hard" or "I don't understand this", but instead, "this isn't fair." He truly believed that it was not fair that we expected him to work and I instantly knew how we had failed him: we had over looked the needs of our middle child. Again. We said we wouldn't, we knew he needed that extra push to get motivated, but it happened anyway.

So what started out two weeks ago as a potentially stressful catch-up year for our son with hours and hours of homework every night, has quickly become a blessing in disguise. I feel like only now are we really seeing Owen's potential and appreciating just how intelligent he is. I feel like we have been trying so hard to not overlook Owen physically all these years, that we have over looked the details and have missed so much. I am very grateful that we are seeing this whole new side of our precious son, he has perked up so much in the past few weeks and I must say I will never tire of that look of pride he gets on his beautiful face when he realizes he has understood and remembered something new.

As for Owen, he is loving this. Not only is this opening up a whole new world for him, but this is the answer to his personal prayers. You guessed it: he has Mommy and Daddy all to himself for an hour of homework every night.

And let me tell you, it has quickly become my favorite hour of the day.

Farewell to Nova Scotia

A song I've been singing since grade school is now becoming my reality.

We've been hoping for this move, planning for this move - heck, we asked for this move. Then came the months of preparing, the waiting, the seemingly never ending stress. But through it all I overlooked one very important detail: we are leaving our home.

Although Steve and I both grew up - for the most part - in the Halifax area, this is actually not the home I feel we are now leaving behind. We have not called that area home in quite some time and have made certain over the years to keep in close touch with our family and dear friends from there. The place of our childhoods and the friends from our past are already tucked protectively in our hearts and will remain there always.

But now we must say goodbye to the town that is the childhood home of our children, the place that has become more of a home to us than we ever expected.

I tell the story often of how we moved to Greenwood almost seven years ago, not knowing a single person and feeling like outsiders. Steven made many friends almost immediately (partly due to his personality and partly because he worked with most of the community on the Base!) but it took me longer. I had two small children, another on the way, and felt totally and utterly alone. I was even beginning to have second thoughts about moving away from our familiar circle of friends, our family and our roots. Fast forward more than six years and now we find ourselves leaving this town full of "extended family", countless memories and many years of happiness.

No, I won't miss being late for work because I got stuck behind a tractor on the old highway (more times than is worth mentioning) and yes, it will no doubt be nice to have more choices than just Pizza Delight for a family restaurant. But there are so many things unique to the Annapolis Valley that I am certain we will never find anywhere else. In fact, I found it was a bit of a culture shock moving here from the city.

I remember the very first hardware store I ever shopped in in the Valley had a display of paint whose label read, "Red Barn Paint". I was floored and commented to Steve that I always knew barns were generally red, but had no idea they made special read paint for them! I remember saying, "Where have you moved me to??" It took some getting used to that the stores all closed here so early, even on weekends (although admittedly they have gotten much better over the years) and that we had to drive to the post office on Base for our daily mail. The doctor's office was appalled I would expect them to be open on Fridays or any evenings, the closest hospital was half the size of my high school in the city, and the municipality is so particular with their rules on waste disposal that they will routinely reject your garbage or green bin for the smallest infraction. We are not even allowed to throw out anything that isn't bagged garbage, which has led to the creation of two very special garbage collection weeks in our town called "Spring clean up" and "Fall cleanup" You laugh, but if you've ever lived here you know it is a great tradition here in our Valley and begins several weeks prior to the appointed day. People start lugging piles of boxes and unwanted toys, tools, appliances - you name it - to the curb for the perusal of the neighbors and passers by. Cars will slow down as they pass to inspect what you have left out and many will come by in trucks to unburden you of anything they may find a use for. Haha, oh how I will miss those clean up days and the hours of entertainment they provided.

Interestingly enough, it was one of those clean up days that led to my job at Annapolis Valley Health. Once Rhian got older we decided it was time to get rid of her old baby furniture and strollers. Steve was in the process of putting it all out by the street when a car stopped and asked him if he would hold it all until she could get home to get her truck. We were speechless at this, but did as she asked. It turns out she and her mother do this every Spring and Fall, clean things up and then re-sell them. The previous year they had taken their family to Disney World on their profits. She proceeded to tell Steven that she in fact had a great job, at Valley Regional Hospital, doing exactly what I did. So he told her that I had been trying to get hired there. She gave him her boss' name, instructed him to have me contact her and, long story short, I got a call a couple months later! Only in the Valley.

That job ended up being the best job I ever had. I met so many wonderful people, formed precious friendships, learned so much about myself and had many experiences I will never forget. It was a place I truly felt at home, with people I quickly considered family. Sometimes I would complain about having to work later in the day and then stop and think to myself, "hang on, I don't mind going to work at all!" How many people can say that? To be honest, I am a little frightened I will never find that again.

Our kids all started school here and, despite the transient nature of our town, have pretty much kept the same friends for much of their lives so far. They have had several of the same teachers over the years, and I for one will miss the familiarity of those wonderful educators who have worked so hard to contribute to my childrens' futures. I mean, where else, after the first week of school when your 5 year old has forgotten three lunch boxes at school would you have a teacher who will bring them to your door on her way home? We live in a community so small that the teachers' children are on your kids' soccer team, your lawyer is their coach, their teammates are in their class and every Saturday you all get groceries at the same store so what should have been an hour long errand is actually a two and a half hour gossip session!

One of the most rewarding - and most difficult - things we got involved in in this community was the Soccer Club. Our family is very big into this particular sport, with all three kids playing and Steven playing for three different teams at various times of the year. We decided it was important to contribute to something that impacted our whole family and help out the community. Three years later we have many new friends from this venture and have had the priviledge to have made a difference in the lives of many children. We both have worked very hard to ensure that any child in the area who wanted to play made it onto the field, no matter what, and I leave here feeling very good about that.

Through so many ties in this very close-knit community, we are truly leaving a place we've made our home and so many people we care deeply about. I often joke and call us "the elders of the village," as it seems we've been here much longer than the average military family stays in one spot. Looking back on it all, I am glad we didn't leave before now. We've watched this town grow, we've given our kids a hometown they can be proud of and remember fondly, and we've created memories we can cherish forever.

As I am going about my last couple of weeks here, I am continually warmed by the people who have stopped by the house to say farewell and the people who see me in a store and take the time to ask about Steven, already in Ontario, and to offer any assistance I many need. I am really enjoying the opportunity to visit with people I don't always make time to see and am being careful to take the time to enjoy all that this town has to offer before we head out on our new adventure.

I am leaving with a heavy heart, but with my head held high and bursting with excitement. This was our first military posting, our learning ground and the place we discovered how wonderful it is to belong to such a fiercely patriotic community. We have friends who are still here, friends who have moved on before us and friends who are getting word they too are leaving soon. The revolving door of the military life never stops but as we go through it we collect valuable memories and take with us friendships we will never forget.

Farewell to Nova Scotia, the sea bound coast....we'll be back.

Lady Luck

Once again it has been a while since I’ve sat down to blog – but this time it has nothing to do with my fear of being redundant, but rather my total lack of time to sit down at all. Everyone has heard the phrase “when it rains it pours”, but with Steve and I it is usually a monsoon. Why I ever thought this posting would be any different, I have no idea.

I could go on and on with the details of the last week and a half but lets be honest here: none of us have the time or the patience to endure that. Suffice it to say that after four long, highly stressful months of having our house on the market, it finally sold – the day before Steve moved to Ontario. It all seems like a blur now but that week was both the most stress-filled and joyous week of our adult lives, all at the same time. After a long, nerve wracking day of negotiations, when we finally had a signed agreement, everyone exclaimed, “Wow, you must be so relieved!” But to tell you the truth, I wasn’t. A month ago I would have been, even a month down the road. But to have that all happen when he was preparing to roll out of town, after having made all the arrangements and preparations to live apart for a while, we just ended up trading one set of stress and problems for another.

We had long since planned that I would drive up with Steve on his move and then fly home alone four days later. It was always a bittersweet trip in my mind; it would be so great to have four days alone road-tripping with my hunny (something we hadn’t done since our honeymoon almost 12 years ago) but at the end I would fly home and begin life alone and single-parenting for who knew how long. Then in just a few short hours that trip became an essential part of the process: a way to get me up there to find us a house ASAP. There were high points to the trip (the call on the road to tell us we had an offer for a PMQ, thus relieving some of the pressure to buy) and there were low points (when we saw the Q and realized it was not any place we would ever willingly make our kids live). We had the added stress of having the inspection done while we were gone, the hours to think about what could possibly go wrong and how we would deal with it over such a distance. But it was important to have all conditions met as soon as possible to enable us to purchase once we arrived at our destination. The nail biting was worth it though when we got the call in Fredericton that it was all good and the sale was final, making our evening out with old friends a much needed celebration as well as a wonderful reunion.

House hunting proved to be an exercise in self control once we arrived and began working down the list of available houses. Some were ok, some were down right nasty, but the overall impression that became clear early on was that Steve and I were looking for very different houses and were not going to agree easily. That is why when we walked into 21 Selkirk Drive we were both stunned when we looked at each other not halfway through the tour and said at the same time, “I want this house.” We were elated, and then quickly deflated when we found out the house wasn’t available until October 30th. It would take me far too long to get into details but lets just say that after some very fancy footwork and an offer they could not refuse (I mean after all, what are the chances we would ever again find a house we BOTH loved?) we finally ended up with a signed offer. A mere hour before I jumped on a flight back home. STRESS! There were some hairy moments – viewings arriving while we were filling out the offer, approaching our buyers and asking them to change the closing date here that we’d already agreed on and signed for, some conditions they wanted that made me nervous but couldn’t really rightfully refuse – but in the end we all got what we wanted.

Phew.

Well of course it isn’t over yet: we still have to meet our conditions. Although we have no reason to expect any problems, I still find it hard to relax until it is finalized and the house is officially off the market. We could have met all requirements by week’s end but in order for me to fit in an “official” house hunting trip we had to extend it until Monday so I could travel on the weekend. The military will not pay for it if you have officially “secured accommodations”. That is the part that makes me nervous, its not definite yet. I would have turned my weekend adventure into a HHT but of course work simply would not give me these three evenings off. So I came home to work three 4 hour shifts and am flying back Saturday. See what I mean? Nothing is ever cut and dry with us.

Of course I have lots to say about the actual drive up and the great adventure we had together, but I don’t really have the time to get into my uncharacteristic fascination with the wildlife fences throughout New Brunswick or my opinion on the only redeeming quality of the drive through Quebec (the availability of beer in gas stations) so I’ll just say this: things seem to finally be falling into place and although I will likely never stop stressing over something, at least now it’s the positive kind of stress.

My dear friend said it best when she said, “Michelle just keeps pulling horseshoes out of her ass.” So here’s to a few more of those lucky charms and then a couple weeks of worry-free summer before we pack up all our worldly possessions and bid farewell to Nova Scotia.

In the meantime, perhaps I will go buy an lottery ticket...

Every Cloud..blah, blah, blah

Ok, I’m going to try something different. Instead of going on and on about how much it sucks to be left behind and focusing on the negative, I am going to start looking at some of the positive things of being alone. Surely there must be some good things about having the house to myself, right?

1. Less laundry. Much less laundry, actually. With sometimes two trips to the gym a day and then soccer practice every single night, Steven generates almost a family’s worth of laundry all by himself!

2. When I feel like watching a movie, it can be one I have wanted to see for a while but didn’t want to subject him to. Ok, who am I kidding, I don’t watch movies alone. But then, I will soon have no choice.

3. On a similar note, I can catch up on all the shows that I haven’t seen all season. We have a lot of shows we follow but never in their time slots, always downloaded. We then watch them whenever we get a half hour or hour together. Sometimes it can take us months to get through one week of shows, so we don’t follow many. Some, like Grey’s Anatomy – that only I like – have had to take a backseat to the ones we both really enjoy.

4. More options when eating out. This may sound strange, but he is a lot pickier when it comes to restaurants than I am. Its not fussiness that is the matter, it’s the healthy choices. I am far less particular about a menu (clearly,just look at us!) and I find it hard to resist the lure of someone else cooking and then cleaning it all up for me, so consequently we eat out more when he is gone.

5. People tend to visit/call and invite me out more when Steve is gone away. Its not that they have anything against him of course, its just that when he’s home we’re very busy and do a lot of things together. When he’s gone, good friends tend to be more present and always there to lend a helping hand. Its something we military families do for each other and since I have such great friends here I just know there’ll be no shortage of support.

6. Summer activities will be a little easier to plan, if a little more lonely for me. The only work schedule we will now have to work around is mine.

7. There are no mysteries surrounding school this coming Fall. I was actually looking forward to taking them out of the school here and into some place new, so it is not so much a positive for me as it is for the kids. They were looking forward to moving and are understandably disappointed in the change, but at the same time are happy to be going back to the familiar when it comes to school and friends.

8. When I put the butter and peanut butter away, it will stay put away. Haha, this is only going to be amusing to me, but suffice it to say that over the years it has been a constant struggle to keep those items where they belong!! (My hubby is infamous for his peanut butter toast in the evenings)

9. I get a trip to Ontario out of it. Its not the trip I was hoping and planning for, but the destination is the same and it will give us some much needed time alone together. Not to mention a bit of a break for me before single parenting kicks in. It will also be my only trip of any kind all summer.

10. And last but not least (this is for you Karyn): BIG LOVE!! Haha

Although it feels like a betrayal of all the considerations we make for each other by putting them under the microscope and making them into positive reasons to be apart, as the weeks go by and I sink further and further into negativity, it becomes necessary. I never wanted to look at what is “good” about being in separate households, because that in itself is wrong. People say “find a silver lining”, but I find no silver lining in living apart from my husband. As it stands though, perhaps a little “me time” will be a good thing and show me once again that I am able to stand on my own two feet. I never have any trouble being alone – and I really hope everyone understands that that is not what is upsetting me here. Being alone is never this issue, watching him move away and leaving me to take care of everything, including a house I hate, is the issue. In fact, its causing me an unfamiliar bitterness and resentment that I am having trouble dealing with. But as with everything, it is my duty as a military wife and one I will have to accept. I am hoping this will help solidify some self confidence in my abilities to take on anything that comes at me, even when I am making all the decisions alone. Hey look at me, being positive! Ok barely, but it still counts.