If No One Will Listen ...

Covers never do justice to the original in my mind ... (sorry Kelly ... as in Clarkson).

Spring time showers?

It's one of those mornings ... grey, rainy and damp. Very springlike (that's twice ... oops three times counting the title ... in two days that I've dared to invoke the gods of Spring ... I can be cheeky that way).

In hindsight I realize that I should have sent Stefani to school with her raincoat on and not her red riding hood coat (that's what she calls it ... a red melton cloth winter jacket a la red riding hood). Even though duck boots are the rage this year ... can't get her to even consider them!

It's that kid thing ... you know ... that which requires a kid to rebel against anything Mom or Dad suggest ... especially when it comes to outward appearance.

I can remember Mel's purple hair days (daze? lol) ... it took all I had to bite my tongue as she changed the colour of her hair on an almost weekly basis. I think we saw the entire spectrum ... Bozo orange, yellow, pink, red, blue, violet, purple, black, green ... oh yes, and when the purple faded, for about a week her hair was a ghastly shade of lavenderish grey. In fact, her graduation photo proudly attests that fact.

As for Will and J ... by the time they were 12 or so ... if I purchased the article of clothing, it was not going to be worn. It didn't matter if it was the right brand name, the right colour ... I think it had something to do with how long I had held the clothes without laundry being involved.

Nic, on the other hand ... and Kyla, as well ... seem to have no issue with my "fashion assistance". Bless their souls ...

With Stef it's hit or miss ... she has an initial distaste for anything that was selected without her input ... but once the clothes are on, and she thinks she looks good ... it's all water under the bridge.

Okay ... so maybe it's not just a kid thing ... I have a mountain of clothes that were purchased for me that I rarely wear. Something about them is just not quite "me". Come on ... a purple velour leisure suit? I think I'll save that for the nursing home!

Only two people have ever managed to buy for me and come out victorious ... Melanie and Bugs.
It has something to do with truly knowing who the person is ... and thinks they are ... and matching those with a "style" ... garments that are flattering and speak to those ideals. I guess that's why the automatic reaction to a faux pas purchase is more often than not ... "that's just not me"....

Okay ... to loop this all up ... I guess it's not a kid's thing at all. It's about the parent imposing on a child their sense of who that child is. Seems I've done okay with the females of the household ... disaster when it comes to the males ...

Who'd think that a ramble about clothes and fashion ... could lead to such depth?

My boys ... *sigh* ... I really tried ... but I know I wasn't able to give them what they really needed ... I still am not sure if I even could ... maybe they needed something beyond me. A father maybe?

Shades of the amazing speech Will shared at Mel's wedding ... about a single mother who worked too many hours to keep a roof over their head, sickness and adversity ... and the fact that he was only beginning to come to terms with it all ...

*sigh*

so maybe it's not

... a problem with sticktuitiveness ... it's an addiction problem (does that mean I should go out there and look for a 12-step program?) ... it's the inability to walk the "moderation" line.

... I love writing and reading ... and thinking ... and responding ... and questioning ... and questing ... and searching ... and laughing ... and asking again ... and writing ... and reading (did I already say that?) ... so much so, that I could probably do nothing else and be perfectly content for an eon or two (I figure at that point my eyes, finger tips and buttocks might need a rest).

... therefore when I allow myself the pleasure of luxuriating in written wonder ... I'm that kid who can't (or won't) stop gorging just in case it all gets taken away. I operate under the premise of just "five more minutes" ... which quickly becomes another 30 ... 60 ... or more.

... what I need is the power of moderation ... internal discipline ... trust that this "candy" will not vanish or be taken away without warning ... and pace myself with a routine of xx amount of minutes a day.

... but I bet you can already see the problem with that "bribe" ... how much time is satisfying enough? 5 minutes ... 30 minutes ... an hour?

.... hmmm ... an hour doesn't seem half bad ... maybe I can self-commit to an hour a day ... no matter what and stop this feast or famine ... up and down ... here and there sporadic cycle of mine.

(I'll let you know if it works ... otherwise I'll undoubtedly have to resort to a 12-step program)

Could it be ...

... could it truly be ... the beginning of the end of winter? It's actually mild enough today ... that I have the patio door open ... just a little ... to let some of the stale air out and some fresh air in. And as I was opening the door ... I was greeted by the happy twittering of birds in the neighbour's yard. Surely that's a sign of better, warmer days to come!

Whether it's due to global warming or earth cycles ... Toronto now has a "real" winter ... snow that has to be shovelled. When I first arrived in this city, I was dismayed by its brown, slushy version of winter. Though not my favorite season ... I do like a snowy winter ... otherwise its just an extended cold fall ... or a prolonged icy spring.

Like most people I know ... I prefer the warmth ... but I would find it hard to live somewhere where there was not four distinct seasons. Wonder if I'll still be saying that what I'm 75 and my bones ache when it's cold and/or wet?

Laxative effects ...

I must have hit the nail on the head the other day ... because I'm back to my old routine of coming here before noon. My brain can't seem to come up with anything other than a constipated / laxative simile (metaphor?) ... could that be influenced by Dave's recent colonoscopy? lol

It's unbelievably quiet this morning ... only sound is the tapping of the computer keys as I write. Don't have any music on ... as I can't decide what I want to listen to ... the playlist on my Ipod has been overplayed ... and I'm not in the mood for the randomly weird selections of the radio ... or worse, top 40. I go through these phases with music ... sometimes for months I know exactly what to listen to, to match my moods ... or I get obsessed with a certain artist or album (do they still call them albums?) ... and then at other times, like this ... it's difficult to find anything that doesn't flag as "overplayed" ...

Maybe I'll just drink in the silence ...as I've been known to complain about sensory overload when the house is in full swing.

Nicole received acceptance letters from 3 out of the 5 universities she applied to yesterday. Only problem is ... that her top 2 universities (the ones yet unheard from) don't get back to you until April .... and 2 of the 3 who've sent her acceptances need answers by March (along with the necessary deposit). Wonder what she'll do? Bottom-line, as she's taking general arts ... I don't think it really matters where she goes ... but it will be fun to watch the drama of her decision-making. She's my drama queen ... followed closely by Stef (of course) ...

Melanie started at Build-a-Bear yesterday. She called during her break to share what a "happy-happy" place it was ... and that she was silly to have been worried. She likes to pretend that she thrives on conflict and chaos as I do ... but really ... she's a "don't worry, be happy" person ... and she's found her niche. My guess is that her store will be beating all sales records within the next six months.

When she announced her departure from Strbx ... she had customers giving her good-bye presents!! Now is that the sign of a customer-service guru ... or what??

When I try to imagine myself working at Build-a-Bear ... I find myself laughing out loud at the mental pictures that come to mind ... within a few hours I'd be shoving half stuffed bears at people shouting ... take you $&^!!! bear! Patience has never been my strong suit ... nor dealing with idiots ...

For the longest time ... I had myself pegged as a tolerant, patient, kind, people-loving kind of person ... you know warm and fuzzy. How does a brain do that? Let you believe something that really isn't true? Anyways ... I know better now ... I'm rather cool, direct, sometimes intimidating and don't suffer fools (which in some moods is most everybody) ...

Am I arrogant? I don't think so ... but I'll give it some thought ...

Boils down to not really being mid-management material ... you know, managing lots of people and lots of personal issues ... probably why I wasn't happy until I climbed a few more notches ... so that I could manage files and projects and campaigns and departments and organizations. Facts and figures, things and dollars ... not primarily people-driven.

Don't get me wrong ... I don't hate people, nor am I as intolerant as I may sound ... I simply am choosy ... don't need to make friends with everyone I meet ... don't like small talk and letting the personal bleed into work ...

Hmmm ... I'm sounding more and more Finnish each day ... lol. Finns are known as "cold fish" ... not a very friendly nation UNTIL someone decides to befriend you and then you're practically family.

After all ... that's how I was raised ...

What is it about water?

... hot, almost scalding water ... bubbles with some citrusy or lavender-ish scent ... yup, it's the stereo-typical Calgon commercial ... (but come to think of it ... though I love to escape and rejuvenate in a bubble bath ... I never really liked the scent or the bubbles of Calgon. For truly amazing bubbles ... nothing will ever beat good old Mr. Bubbles ... as for scent ... I'm a sucker for Lush products) ...

Tonight's treat (well it's really not night ... but somehow I'm ahead of schedule on everything today including my bath) ... was called "Blizzard" ... a white sparkly fizzy ball that filled the bathroom with the most delicious smell (can't quite figure out what it is ... some soft flowery scent) ... and turned the water milky white before covering itself with a thick blanket of tiny little glittery bubbles ...

Read two chapters ... and luxuriated for what was at least an hour ... didn't worry about the phone or the dog. I could hear Stefani singing in her bedroom (but then again ... when doesn't she sing?) ... and once or twice heard J laugh at something on the Comedy Channel. Sounds of a peaceful home ...

The only problem with having taken a bath so early in the evening is that I'm ready for bed ... squeaky clean, relaxed and still tingly from the warm water.

(... and I did crawl into bed ... with my book and the TV ... and was soon joined by Stef and Peanut Butter ... Dave's in Sudbury ... so I guess it was "girl's night")

Transparencies ...

OMG ... three posts on the same day!! Has the earth shifted on its axis? Has Jupiter aligned with Mars? ... guess I'm holding true to my life-long pattern of feast or famine.

All kidding aside ... a stray thought just tickled at the edges of my grey matter and I thought I'd give it a look-see ....

I've got a full life ... lots of people and happenings and drama and sadness and joy ... and yet, I often find myself with nothing to say (or so I tell myself). I wander the blog-web world and read about the ups and downs of others whose lives are not as populated as mine ... and find that they never seem to find themselves with a lack of things to say ... or comments to make. So what is it with me?

A natural reticence? Shyness that transcends physical space and follows me here? ... something sillier or more dark and mysterious?

Do I really believe that "an unexamined life is not worth living" (Socrates ... for those who want to know) ... or do I just mouth the words because they make me seem smart and deep?

Am I hiding something from myself? Auto-censoring so that I remain calm and collected ... never appearing overly happy, sad, upset, mad, frustrated, excited ... keeping myself in check, a controlled calm regardless of what may be boiling beneath?

And if so ... what purpose does it serve ... or perhaps I should be asking ... what purpose have I convinced myself that it serves ... living behind this calm mask of words ... well chosen to only give as much information as I think I should give ... superficial transparencies that amount to window dressing?

Fly away home ...

... so Kyla decided "out of the blue" to return to her mom's home. No big deal ... though it's starting to feel like a game of musical homes.

And I guess I'm lying when I say "no big deal" ... because we're all slightly bent out of shape and she's been gone a week.

It's not the fact that she went back to her mother's ... I think we all knew that was inevitable ... it's the way she went about the whole thing that rankles. One day she was making plans with Stef and Nic and I ... the next day, she was announcing her departure.

And now all we're left with is a pile of discarded clothes ... a few messages on Facebook ... and the stench of lies and half-truths.

I can't help but wonder if the so-called pregnancy scare earlier in the month was simply an end to a means that back-fired. A plan that assumed that her father would "throw her out" upon finding this out ... it certainly seems a little coincidental that her departure was within days of this ....

I'm still trying to find out what really bothers me about all this ... am I mourning a loss? a perceived failure? rejection? all of the above? or something else?

Oh no ... I'm going to say it again ... time will tell ...

Lists

I have a friend who I believed to be obsessed with lists ... he tracked everything ... well, at least everything that the hours in a day would permit. I recall his bemoaning not being able to track as much he wanted and/or the lack of historical data.

I, on the other hand, kept no lists ... well, that's not exactly true ... every now and again, I would start a list ... and then as a result of procrastination or sheer laziness or being overwhelmed would stop ... and the list would wither and die somewhere unattended.

Lately, I've found myself drawn to list-making ... not the typical to-do list (I've always kept those ... there's something so inherently pleasing about crossing something off a list ... how could I resist?) ... I mean lists of movies, books and other sundry items. I'm doing not bad at all at recording ... but ...

The sheer act of recording movies watched or books read ... brings a slightly bitter taste to my mouth ... as every time I add a new book or movie ... I can't help but remember all the movies viewed and books read that have not made it to my list.

Inevitably this leads to a mini self-discussion about the "worth" of even keeping the list at this time ... a debate as to whether I should add a section of past movies viewed or books read ... or should that be another list ...

I mean ... who would have thought that something as seemingly simple as keeping a list could have so many complicated layers?

I still haven't decided what to do about the past ... but I certainly do have a better appreciation for the friend mentioned above ... and his years of tracking and list making. As for me, I'll keep tracking into the future ... and as for the past ...

time will tell ...

Rain, rain ... go away ...

It's cold and rainy ... ugh! Trying to find a smile despite the cold and wet ... where's the fog when I need it?

Another busy weekend ... Beach Bash (raised $2,500 for charity) ... Valentine's Day ... and then Monday was "Family Day" ... Ontario's newest stat holiday. The only problem with "Family Day" is that almost everything was closed ... so we dropped in to see Mel, Ang and Maija ... nothing too exciting.

So what am I up? A little work (not very inspired) ... a little housework (just to say that I did) ... procrastinating in circles ...

Time to get productive again ...

Fog ...

FOG
by: Carl Sandburg (1878-1967)
THE fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

I remember having to memorize that poem ... a long time ago ... must have been in Grade Three or Four.

It's one of those foggy days. We don't get a lot of fog here ... it's a late winter / early spring kind of occurence ... when the thermometer finds itself close to 0 degrees or higher and the piles of snow start melting and releasing all that moisture into the air.

I realized this morning ... that I really like the fog ... it makes me think of blankets.

Fog lets you see the world a little out of focus ... edges are softened ... even sounds seem muted ... and there's a cushiony quiet to the world around you.

Messages in bottles ...

Some people blog for interaction of one kind or another with others. Others lean more towards an interaction with self. I’m sure I’m not the only one who blogs for some inner, deep, not necessarily dark reason … the words written in a message in a bottle for themselves (and any other explorers inquisitive enough to read) … so that they may remember … or ponder … or state for posterity … or if nothing else, for release … the words, events, feelings, absence of feelings, reporting, ventings set free into the seas to be found again later on another shore.

I do not wish to be found (outside of those few I have pointed in my direction) … more often than not I wish to find me … for far too much of the time I am lost, often times buried, some times smothering under the burden of chores, responsibilities, schedules and duties. Don’t get me wrong … these chores, responsibilities, schedules and duties are of my own choosing … but as with everything in life … even these things that I have chosen and adore … have their flip side. Blogging helps me find myself under all the lists, tasks and responsibilities … that’s when I take the time to write. When I simply upload a picture or scribble a line or few … it’s like a reminder that I still exist – separate from everything else. And in some ways a promise to myself that I will return to myself when the weather permits …

At the moment, my balancing act could take some adjusting. But I remain confident and hopeful that the pendulum will swing the other way soon enough and I will embrace the respite and the comfort of words and feelings and me when it does.

My choice in life is and has been to be a mother … and as it is in pregnancy when a mother’s body gives life and nourishment to a growing child … my life’s purpose has been to assist in the life, nourishment and growth of my children … sometimes at the expense of my own. It is a life that I love and respect and celebrate!

Yet … I realize that I must continue growing and thriving … if for no other reason than to be able to remain on the path I have chosen … to do the “job” I have chosen as well as I possibly can. The sheer existance of this blog … and a special follower … is a daily reminder that I must be as well. Being doesn’t necessarily come easy to me.

Too often I hide in the details … let myself become over absorbed in the most recent “project” … and it takes a concerted effort to pull my head out of the sand and force myself to look around.

A special friend of mine has the inner timing to gently nudge me when my head finds it way six feet or under … leaves a comment or two somewhere on my blog that fires up my grey cells and has me righting my head … with a giggle or a few. Thank you friend!

And so … I find myself here today … scribbling far more words than I have in the last two or three months. Not really caring whether the words are fit to be read by another … not worrying whether the prose is beautiful and deep. But as a wake-up call … as a reminder to me for me … as a thank you … and as the beginning of an answer …

What do I feel through my eyes …? … now that’s a whole other story ….