As I approach my 35th birthday; I am met with very conflicting emotions. Part of me is VERY unhappy with this particular number; after all, we are a society that does tend to measure a woman's worth on her youth and beauty; and part of me is beginning to enjoy the concept of being a "woman." I always had an image in my head of what 35 year old women look like; and this morning when i looked int he mirror when i got up; I realized I was one. The lines around my eyes actually make me happy; it means I been spending a lot of my time smiling. I am taken more seriously by superiors; my life/work experience is more and more evident. I no longer feel the need to justify why I made a bad call; and in fact, I seem to make less and less of them.

But at the same time, there are a few concepts I am struggling with. My baby making years are quickly coming to an end....I am aware that I have a few years left; but I waited a long time for one that I have and having that chance taken from me feels far too short. Most people haven't waited until their 30's to procreate, and I am sure that's why I feel like I have been shortchanged in a way. I have friends with three and four children, before 30; so I suppose it's all relative.

I have always been the "young," one. I was always the last to get to do everything; to drive, to vote, to drink, etc; because of my late birthday. Even when i started nursing; I was significantly younger than 90% of the staff. Now I am a "senior" nurse; with staff up to 14 years younger than me....when you could have potentially given birth to some of your co-workers....well, let's just say that's a whole new ballgame for me.

I also had a childhood friend commit suicide last month. We had not been close since we were kids; but the thought that he'll never have another birthday or share those moments again has me thrown for a loop too. 30 years ago we met and I remember EVERYTHING about that day. I remember the bunk beds in his room; I remember the kidney shaped pool in his backyard; sleep overs with him and his sister. Even a few trips to Canada's Wonderland. It's weird to think of someday never having another birthday.

how morbid am I???

ahhh....caramel........

It has become my new favourite sweet; I wake up in the night craving it....so instead of buying; I decided to make it...how hard can it be, right?

One batch of pale snot-looking goo, two near misses on kitchen fires and several water blisters later, I have now learned why people do not make a habit of making caramel. The stuff burns literally within a blink of an eye, and even using the worng kind of pan can set even the best pastry chef up for failure. I solely blame Michael Smith; he makes everything look easy....

Finally success with batch number 4!!!!!! Smooth and thick and creamy.....sweet with hints of smoke and vanilla; perfect with apple slices and strawberries. I was dreaming of it....and the best indicator of victory. When the 4 year old says, "Mommy, this is the bestest dip I ever tasted!"

Thank you, we're done.....kitchen is closed; time to eat!

Boxing.....

I often lose my ability to see people for who they really are.....I have the opposite problem of many...I think people are more able to learn from their mistakes then they actually are. I have forgiven a lot of behaviours in my life; I think because I have not always been a great and wonderful person myself. But where can you draw the line and say, "enough is enough!" and who can you say this to?

I have always had a very tumultuous relationship with my family..almost bipolar in many ways...we are either in love with each other or fighting to the death; and usually with little or no transition phase. Words and phrases are slung like jabs in a boxing ring; except we are blindsided by them; and instead of keeping the blows above the belt; someone pulls a Tyson and tries to bite off an ear. This alone should be enough for most to throw in the towel; but for some reason, an emotion by the name of guilt calls for 'one more round,' and there we go again, dancing around like we actually enjoy it.

I have been trying very hard to come to a place where I am a healthy, functioning adult. This has not come without a substantial amount of work. Prayer, therapy, meditation and self reflection have brought me to a place where I was beginning to feel pretty good about who I was and who I wanted to be. I thought I had successfully set some limits in my life with people I was terrified to do this with. But someone decided to give me a kidney shot and test those limits. It was as if they wanted to remind me, "hey...you know are that hard work you have done? Well, there's not much point to it until we test you on it. We can't just sit back and let you be okay with that; you understand of course." And BAM! It's your mother, acting like the poor innocent victim and that no one loves her; and how lucky you are to have been raised by better people than she was. Yeah...here we go......

She burned me pretty bad a few years ago.....really bad. Like I could have gone years without seeing her and been okay with it. I had finally let it go. Realized holding the grudge was giving free rental space in my head. Thought she had come to a place where she actually respected me. Now who's being naive.....

Stay tuned for round 2....cause you know it's coming........

Abagaile.......

For those of you who don't know, I am cursed with a tempermental dog. For years she was just stupid....now I know there are those out there who will tell me she was not stupid, she was a) just a puppy, b) misunderstood, c)not trained properly; but really, she excelled at stupid. She could do all tricks you wanted to teach her, but would do things like jump on people, bark incessantly, and on occasion, bite a person, other dog or small creature. No matter how may lessions, offers of advice or dog classes, she just never seemed to "quite get it."

Then one day, she just woke up smart...it's like she decided to grow some grey matter and wise up (I often wonder if she knew she was dangerously close to a long sleep.....). She began to listen, take command, redirect and even, play with us human folk in interesting ways. She would often sneak up on Paul in the dark when he was playing video games and bark; scaring the literal shit right out of him; she would chase and retrieve and even swim.

However, just when we least expect it, she does one of these stupid things again; like biting a small dog at camp. (Okay, the dog was jumping up on her face and trying to hump her leg, but still....) which resulted in a nasty looking eye ....which has me wondering what the hell we did wrong with her....

Then, there are moments just after when things like this happen. I pulled out the kayak, just to paddle about the river and see if any otters/muskrats were about when Abby suddenly starts barking at me like I am on fire...it's this loud, repetitive, anxious bark that does not let up...commands to "stop barking," "that's enough," and "shut the f&^k up!" are falling on deaf Labrador ears. Suddenly without warning, she jumps into the river and begins to swim along side me. At first, I am terrified she is going to tip me over ; as the water is hovering around a chilly 10 C, then, as if she and I connect, she swims beside my kayak, in perfect stride. So close she is between the boat and the paddle, not in the way, but tucked in close. She did this for an hour. All of a sudden, I got it. She was protecting me; making sure I was okay; that nothing was going to harm me with her right there. And I believed her. I became suddenly aware that this creature who ate so many pairs of shoes, destroyed Cd's, ate a phone and has bitten many a creature, would die for me; without hesitation or question. Humans beings are this loyal to one another, let alone another species, even their dog.

All these years, I was trying to teach her how to act; but she already knew. I had to shut the f%^k up myself to hear it.

Love you Abby!

Things I cannot deny......

When this was suggested as a topic; I thought it was actually a little silly.....we are all such defensive creatures, if given the chance, we would all deny our worst character traits, behaviours and peccadilloes...but there's also an acceptance that comes with this; a deep understanding of who you are; and an inherent knowledge that you are accepting of you; no matter what.

I am reactive.....no matter how hard I try not be; I am simply the one who needs to attract a lot of attention to herself. I thrive on drama and tension. I am quick tempered and dramatic. This can wear on others easily. People can get very tired of me; or simply get tired by just being around me. I am self indulgent and often feel justified in reacting the way I do, when in reality, I don't. I am impatient of impatience. I am angered by stupidity. I feel the need to entertain everyone around me and be liked by others. Even by those I don't like.

I am a 34 year old woman who still at times feels 16 when in the presence of her father. I forget how to assert myself and begin to cry when I feel his anger rise or hear the tone condescension or disappointment. I am afraid to tell him how I angry I am at him for never really being there; for being so disconnected all the time. I feel like a child all over again when I see how being the child of alcoholics has made me into everything I am; the wife, the mother, the friend, the daughter and daughter in law. I am angry when I see what patterns I choose to keep because they are easier to justify than to change. I am disappointed that despite being angry, I don't change them. I hate that no matter what, I am powerless to these feelings.

I cannot deny my sheer joy for things that are cheesy, corny or cliche. That holding my child as she sleeps and listening to her breath is the most wonderful experience I have ever had.

I cannot deny God and his presence in my life. I cannot deny how becoming a part of a wonderful church family has filled my heart in a place I didn't know was empty. I cannot deny the feeling in my heart and soul that is filled by His presence. I am still afraid to talk, really talk to some people about it; for fear of being judged as "one of those!!!" I hate that loving God makes you seem insane and childish to others; especially my own partner. And at the same time; I hate when people I love just get His message so completely wrong.


I cannot deny my sadness in my own life. How much I miss my grandmother; my cousins and my family. How lonely I often feel. How embarrassed I am to admit that. How the tears are not helping the healing. How much I wish I would have had a big extended family to spend holidays with, who just stopped by for coffee once in a while. I cannot deny my wish for this.

I cannot deny that some days, I wish I had not fought so hard to make some things work so well.

I cannot deny my anxiety disorder any longer. Denying it for as long as I have has only given it more of a life force; a power over me that leaves me feeling broken.

I cannot deny that my daughter is the very best thing I have ever done. That being chosen to be her mother was the best gift I have ever received. That I worry constantly that I am screwing her up...

I cannot deny that I am haunted by some of the awful things I have done to my friends in the past who have been kind enough to really forgive me....I cannot deny that I have not been as good a friend as they have been to me; even though I desperately wanted to be.

I cannot deny that, I do what I do because I am still looking for answers, and I still haven't found what I am looking for.....

it was a dark and stormy night.....

Ever notice how ironic life can be???

One minute you are sitting in a Red Lobster, perfectly content, and several hours laer; not able to remember how you could ever be happy with "content?" How you can love your simple, healthy life one minute, then be completely engorged in the concept of a new one???

I met Bono last weekend.....yeah...as in Bono...the biggest rock start in the world (or close!). My girlfriends decided we should stalk the band the night before a conert just to see if we could find them....well, we did, along with about 75 other very lucky people.

While waiting in the rain, I began chatting with people, the way I do. I have always been able to talk to strangers and make friends quickly. And well, I quickly made friends with a guy from Minneapolis. And somewhere between U2 playing "Magnificent" and "One," we just.....connected. Something changed in our chit chat. We simply clicked. We stood there, in the rainy, cold evening, waiting for our chance to meet some of the most influential people in the world and saw something in one another.

So.... meeting in the rain? check..... Eyes meeting across a crowd of people? Check.... Music in the background? check...... Havng an incredible time with tons of energy and excitement? check..... this should all be going well right? Except one thing.....my awesome husband and daughter back home........shit......

I ended my meeting with this awesome person on a very G rated note...I did not do anything with this man that I could not tell my husband about...

So what the hell was that?

One one hand I am greatful to know that I can still connect with people, and was given the chance to have that reinforced within me. On the other hand, I wonder if I was being tested. There was a time I would have been all over that opportunity...I have always been of the belief that lessons in life are repeated until learned....was this one of those moments?

Does U2 actually have that kind of power? Can you meet a stanger on a dark and stormy night and have it change you forever? Is there such thing as a "magnificent one?"

Food for thought anyways.....

There are always books.....

For me, nothing compares to the time spent between the pages of a good book......those moments when you are smack dab in the middle of an amazing book; where you suddenly see the world in a whole new light, because the protagonist just threw us a curve ball, and the biographer finds some interesting piece of information that you never knew.....for me, this is pretty close to bliss....and if I happen to hit these moments while lounging on a beach or even in the tub with a glass of wine.....well.....it doesn't get much better than that.

I even love watching others read.....seeing Avery "read," her favorite book in my reading chair, that she is repeating from memory; fills my heart with joy. Seeing Paul sit at the computer and read articles even makes me happy, but I am ecstatic to see him buried in an old novel and burn it up in three days. Looking at my father sci-fie collection back home makes me smile; and knowing those old Louis Lamour's have been read at least ten times by him makes me want to sip warm whiskey under a wool blanket. (Odd, I know).....

I love discussing books, I love critiquing books, I love recommending books, and having them recommended. I love hearing why someone loves a book, hates a book, throws a book against the wall and gets angry at it. I actually remember my grandmother getting so mad at "that god damned thing," and tossing a novel across her living room. "Dirty bugger ticked me off!" To this day, I am still not sure if she was talking about the author or the character......

When we would go to my grandmother's, that was what we would do as a family.....sit around and read together. I am aware this sounds odd, but this was very much a female family; and with my reading grandmother reigning as matriarch supreme, we would sit in her living with no television and no radio, and read. My grandmother in her chair, me in the obnoxious velvet flowered lounger, my mother curled at one corner of the couch and my aunt in the lazy-boy under the window. My cousins would likely be laying on the floor, reading magazines and giggling about some picture they saw. Someone would inevitable read something they found annoying, hostile, unique or interesting in some way; and everyone would stop, and discuss this. This would all go on for hours....or it would sometimes be hours before anyone would say anything at all......

My grandmother was a hard-core best-seller fiction fan......anything from J.D. Robb, V.C Andrews or Nora Roberts she was all over....my grand-father on my dad side was a WWII book fan; mostly non-fiction, but some interesting communism books in there (yeah...weird)....my dad, a huge Asimov fan and Louis L'Amour junkie.....my mother read everything ever written by Jean M. Auel and just about every biography under the sun. My best friend Jaime has ever book Stephen King EVER wrote (even the ones he didn't write!!!)

And me? Well, I cut reading teeth on Judy Blume and Beverly Cleary.....by the way, for the Blume fans out there...they are currently in production for Tiger Eyes....an amazing Judy Blume YA novel. I moved on to the trashy fiction of V.C Andrews...and followed with the passion for the classics after reading Watership Down in Grade 9; and fell in love with ANYTHING Hemingway by grade 10.....now I move between fiction and non-fiction, current events, historical biographies and quests for spirituality. I crave for the determination to one day finish Lord Jim; and tackle Atlas Shrugged. I live to share new found knowledge about The Story of Stuff and the Narcissism Epidemic; and would love to talk your ear off about Hadley Richardson or Rob Bell. And I love that I get to read about Ramona Quimby all over again and introduce Avery to the classic antics of kids in pages.

Best Fiction I have as of late:

Water for Elephants: Sara Gruen

Book of Negroes: Lawerence Hill

The Red Tent: Anita Diamant

The Road: Comrac McCarthy

East Of Eden: John Steinbeck

Best Non-Fiction I have read as of late:

Love Wins: Rob Bell

The Paris Wife: Paula McLain

The Narcissism Epidemic: Twenge and Campbell

Shake Hands With the Devil: Romeo Dallaire

In the Realm of Hungry Ghosts: Dr Gabor Mate

Enjoy!!!!!

Back to the stove....

So I found myself this am in a bit of a conundrum......TONS of food in my fridge; but multiple Tupperware container of leftovers...all still perfectly good; but not enough of anyone thing to leave as a meal for Paul and Avery before I left for work today.....

Last night; I made Paul and I lobster.....those who love lobster are drooling; and those who don't are feeling squeamish just thinking about it. Paul says his Halifax cousins cannot stand the stuff (and apparently they still let them live there!!!) and are often heard saying, "Bye the bye, I don't eat that bye-Jesus shit fish!"

So today was my first ever attempt at a lobster bisque.....Oh my Gosh......thank you Food Network and Epicurious......quite possibly the YUMMIEST soup I have ever made.....and I even took the advice of a person on the forums...add a shot of tequila while you are cooking down the shells.....best advice ever!!!!

And the leftover roasted veggies, bacon and tomato sauce all went to a seafood pizza that will be dinner for Paul and Avery.....

I deserve a pat on the back today......

Love Wins.....

Some people have an amazing power to take their words and make you understand things in a way you never did before.....

The irony of these people is that they are often heavily criticized by others; even if what they are saying/explaining/writing is not new.

I love making connections b/w obscure and bizzare people you would NEVER think would ever have a thing in common. Last night, while at chruch, we discussed a book from Pastor Rob Bell called Love Wins; which examines our concepts of heaven and hell.

"A racist would be miserable in the world to come."

He goes on to discuss how every culture, every colour would be on earth as one; interacting in the way we were actually meant to; before the concepts of superiority and ethnic cleansing.

We discussed at church last night that we as Christians have a long history of believing what we are doing is right; as those that we must educate are "inferior" until they have seen the Grace of God. This is not a new concept, nor is it a dead or dying one; all we as Canadians need to do is look at the residential school system to see what assimilation of culture and Christianity can do to people.....go back 100 years before to examine what we thought of our fellow men, women and children we kidnapped, raped, and murdered to tend fields and grow cotton. 60 years ago we watched a man and a small group of his follows (Christians they called themselves) systematically slaughter six million people....people who's belief structure differed by a simple fork in the spiritual road.

To paraphrase Chris Rock.....

After 9/11 there was a lot of accepted racisim out there..."I'm American, f*ck all these Arabs, and f*ck the French, etc....but I started thinkin'.....n*ggers and Jews is next...that train's never late.....

Life lessons are imposed by many; criticzed by many more, but actually absorbed by few....

What difference can I make? What decisions should I make? Who should I be listening to?

I wonder what God thinks of those who simply entertain us to pass the time.....hmmm.....

Truth....

Remember when we were little and we were always told to tell the truth, no matter what? Well, as it turns out, the rules change when you grow up, except no one ever really tells you thoese new rules, you are left to fill in the gaps all by yourself.

There are litle ones that come over time; things like, "If you call in sick to work, and you're not really sick, then shut up about it." That's a mistake you only make once. Then, as we get better at it we learn to tell little unturths that everyone knows are untruths, like, "I'll call you," "the cheque is in the mail," and these are accepted as part of out culture. But what about those truths that people don't want hear, like, "you need to step up your game," "your parenting skills suck," or "you drink too much." And we avoid these because often, the reciver does NOT want to hear them.

So when one is back into a corner and forced to talk about an untruth, even the most assertive of us has been known to back down until they are backed into a place where they have to come out swinging.

It all comes back to food....

So my last few blogs paint a pretty good picture of where my head has been at lately; and I am well aware that to outsiders; it ain't pretty. For those that have expressed concern; I greatly appreciate your kind words and offerings of wisdom and faith.

Last weekend, I managed to pull my head out of my proverbial behind and host a Pampered Chef party; something I had been looking forward to for quite a while. I was reminded that no matter what happens in life; I can always go back to the kitchen and reclaim my space; both physically and mentally. I have realized how therapeutic making risotto actually is; and by the time it is done; nothing seems unsolvable.

That being said; arborio rice does not cure overwhelming feelings of dehumanization and alienation, but it does provide comfort on many levels. It brings me back to being in the moment; and rolling out dough provides a wonderful outlet for frustration. I now have a much stronger understanding of the expression, "putting your heart and soul into it." There is no shame in having your tears in a sauce, and fist prints in the pie crust...you are giving your all in your food....who doesn't appreciate that?

Strength....

Who am I of not for them? Even in my own internal crisis, they are the reason to find my centre......

What if??????

What do you do when you wake up one day, completely indifferent to the person you once loved more than anyone else? What if when they left, you were happy they were gone? What if, deep down in your heart, you secretly wished they wouldn't come back? What if you stopped caring about the things you worked so hard to achieve? What if you had no hard rock to lean on once in a while? What if you just stood there, as if you had a psychic power to forsee the future, and you saw it all just crumbling away from you....and you didn't care. What if everything you worked so hard to achieve, was just a ball and chain holding you back....

"tore the rearview mirror down....I wrapped it in my wedding gown......

Got my hands on the wheel, got my foot on the pedal

Gonna drive till I drop till these tires turn to metal

Gonna sleep when I'm dead, gonna laugh like the devil

Gonna find some place where no one knows me....."

What if, for the first time in your life, you didn't feel like fighting to save something? What if, for the first time in your life, you were willing to give up the ghost, admit everyone else was right from the beginning, and just walk away. What if the solutions that were offered to fox things, just didn't seem worth the effort?

There's no sentimental value to the rose, that fell on your floor

there's no fundamental excuse, for the granted I'm taken for.

It's easy not to.

So much easier not to

And what goes around never comes around to you.

What if throwing your hands up and saying, "I'm done." uplifted your soul instead of drowning it?

But what if your wrong?