and so she blogged...

I am here to blog. This has become a foreign land to me. It sort of feels like coming home, you know?

In an effort not to bore you with the details, I have decided to keep it short and sweet as an attempt to come back and feed the beast, so to speak, in a more current fashion. I think that only made sense to me.

Here's what you missed, or what I missed telling you over the last year:

We moved to an entirely different neighbourhood into a dream house for reasons that are not important and my oldest graduated from high school which made me cry and then she got accepted to her favourite university on the planet and despite my best efforts to thwart her plans in order that she stay close to home she has decided to go to this faraway university thereby abandoning any hopes and dreams I may have had to spy on her on campus and sit through her classes because I love university so very much and then Jack reinvented himself in a way that is not my favourite but he still continues to crack me up every single day and so we will keep him and teenage boys are hard but I guess we signed up for that although I have no recollection of doing such a thing and then the unthinkable happened and it came right out of the blue and smacked me in my face which was rude rude rude but it did and I had no choice but to accept it.

I graduated from university.

With an actual degree.

The end.

post essay blog post

Can you figure out that title? What I mean to say is that this post is written after I just wrote an essay. You know? Post essay as opposed to pre essay? Whatever, it's a stupid title, I get it.

So, I have been thinking about this here blog a lot lately and how much I used to love writing it and keeping it updated and how it was the most fun hobby ever. Now it's this thing in the background that I miss.

You know what else I miss? Novels and netflix.

I should have titled this post novels and netflix. Where was that brilliance 47 seconds ago?

I have not opened a novel since August. In fact, I am half way through a pretty decent read that I had to forsake in the name of further education. It's been so long since I touched the novel I can't even remember what it is called or who wrote it and I might not even, at this moment, be able to recall where it is.

Ohhhh. my heart weeps for fiction.

I spent August in bed, reading novels and coddling my love for binge watching tv shows on the flix. I did, I'm really sorry, but I did. It was a slow, lazy month and I am not proud. But I knew September would be banana-town and dude, banana-town is an understatement.

So here is the Coles notes version of my life over the last two months:

-the teenagers both had birthdays in September. And both were...uneventful. All because I am not awesome with the full time student/mom/party planner job description. Am I fired yet? Why am I not fired yet?

- I read a ton. Hours a day. And nary a novel at that. It's all textbooks and the such and wow, just wow.

-I am taking four classes at the university in an effort to be done my degree sooner rather than later. Call me crazy.

-I have two boys in football and that is a part time job and let me tell you something, the pay sucks! But I will say that we do get a crap load of pleasure from watching our boys play football. It is pretty dang fun. But what I have learned about myself during this football season is that my heart is not cut out to watch young men play sports. I weep, literally, when any of them get hurt, and last week alone two ambulances were called at two different games and neither of those games did I have a child even playing in and I shed tears. I am a wimp. There, I said it.

- I have teenager issues. I am not allowed to say more but what I will say is that I have teenager issues.

- I also have laundry issues. And clean house issues. And cooking dinner issues.

- I have eaten everything.

- I am overwhelmed in a coping pretty good sort of way. As long as you don't check my coping on Tuesdays because Tuesdays be crazy.

But here is the gist...every time I set foot on campus and curse the day ahead I try to remember that I actually love the university and these are my last few months there and enjoying the journey is important.

So I make an attempt to enjoy the journey.

Even though the journey involves Biology 205.

summer realizations

This really has been the summer of Catie. I mean, in terms of doing as little as possible that makes my unhappy, that is. I haven't had near enough beach time for my liking but there isn't too much I can do about that.

Or is there? I'm not sure. I am too busy sitting around watching Netflix and reading novels and wondering how my children got old enough to not need me so much anymore. I have one kid who works all day (and it isn't Cicely), I have one kid who sits around most of the day on the computer, waiting for all those people who want her to work for them to call (and that is Cicely). I have one kid who plays with his friends all day and I have Amelia who has decided she's a big girl and can entertain herself.

Every now and then I inject myself into their view and ask "how's it going? Does anyone need anything?" to which they respond with one word answers like "good" and "nope". And I continue wandering around aimlessly pondering this stage of our lives and what it means.

And this is my determination. They are growing up. So amazingly fast are they growing up. I feel like they are leaving me behind.

I have spent the last week or two wishing September would come faster and then smacking myself on the hand for wishing away the summer like that. But I am wishing for it because then school will start again. For me. When I am in school I am so busy and have so much to do and I don't feel so left behind anymore.

When I go out I force as many children as are home to go with me. I feel like I need to spend every minute with them. I feel almost desperate to be with them, as if our time together is limited. I don't know if that is true but that's what it feels like. When we are all home, they don't want me. They have their own interests and rarely does that include me. It's how I trained them, I wanted them to be independent and self-reliant and damn, if they aren't the pictures of self-reliance! So I take them places because they need me to get them back home again. They are trapped by my methods of madness and they don't even know it.

This summer has felt different than every other summer I have ever had as a mother. And I think I know why.

Here is the truth. I have one year of school left. And my heart is being pulled towards a career. I want something for me. As the children grow and leave I have to make sure I have something for me or I will be sucked into a chasm of sadness and displacement. I won't be able to get out, it will eat my sanity and leave me empty. I know it will. I know this because I feel it when they are busy and I am not. It surges through my veins when they are gone and I am home without them.

It comes on so fast. I barely have time to blink and it's there. There's a heaviness, a loneliness, a sinking. I don't like to be alone. I mean, what mother and housewife says that? Don't get me wrong, I like me some alone time. But a day, one day, with nothing to do and I am literally in the dumps. That's all it takes. I have the standard list of things I want to do so that I don't get like that. Like reading and housework and errands and movies. But my distractions only carry me so far.

I used to be the queen of projects. I used to do so much when my kids were young. I doted on them and then doted on me in my free time. I was painfully happy and content in my role of mother. Stay at home mother. But none of those things I used to love hold any interest for me anymore. They are all things I used to do alone, because I was hardly ever alone and I cherished the time I spent with just me. But now, I feel an aversion towards my home. Where there used to be a craving to be home there is now a longing, a pull to get out of the house and stay out as long as there is no one in it lest the loneliness eats me whole.

People gently criticize my choices. They ask me why I do so much. They ask me how I do it. The answer is simple. I have to do it, or I sink. And I don't want to sink. I do everything in my power to make sure that when I do start to sink I know that soon I will have to shake it off because there is just so much to do and only me to do it. That chaos, that busy bustling of energy, is where I find my level ground. It's where I feel most sane and put together. It's where I aim to be forevermore.

The moment I stepped onto the university campus two years ago I knew I had chosen the right path for me. It has never felt wrong or unmanageable and I know it is leaving me with options of where I will find joy. It isn't the path for everyone, I get that. I am excited for the future, and what even appears to be the near future, even though it means this time at home with my children might be coming to an end. There are many moments when that is hard to reconcile in my soul but then I remind myself that nothing is set in stone, my options are wide open, I am not trapped in a life that has the tendency to make me unhappy, and my children are still here with me, for the time being.

It's been a good life. And I am determined to make sure it stays that way. For them. And for me.

the job hunt

I really just want to sit and read this book I delved into last night and can't put down. It is hilariously wicked and the sarcasm in it is to die for. If it is possible to die for such a thing.

Where'd You Go, Bernadette. I hate it when the library covers up the title with their stupid stickers.

Sarcasm. I need sarcasm in my life. In fact, I would die without it. It's part of who I am. My genetic makeup, so to speak. I feed off it. This book is... is...just so....weird. I love it. Having said that, I am only half way through, maybe it'll fall apart and turn into the garbage I expected it to be. But as of now? Nope, not garbage. Great. Laugh out loud funny.

Anyway, I want to be sitting and reading this book but I feel an overwhelming urge to share with you the experience I am having with my oldest child. She's a peach. A real joy these days.

Was that sarcasm?

In truth, she is a really great kid. She's lovely and kind, sweet and polite, smart and beautiful and all good things. But mostly when I interact with her she is not always the sunshine and rainbows she appears to be.

She's looking for a job. And has been for quite sometime. She's a tad picky and maybe a little snobby, if I may be so bold, about where she wants to work. I believe all good people are allowed that sense of entitlement in their lives on occasion.

Bad people too. Not that I believe in bad people.

Yes I do.

I have seen, over the last six weeks, her open her eyes to a degree about how picky she's allowed to be in finding a job. She's tried all her dream jobs. No bites. So now she is extending out to her less than ideal job locations. She even applied at EggsOasis, for crying out loud.

Stupidest name for a restaurant on the planet. I mean, I love eggs, but c'mon.

I am prodding her gently to try places she wouldn't normally try; however, she is about a 1 on the patience scale with me.

1 being the least amount of patience one person can have for another human being. Like so impatient that if she had a gun and two bullets she'd shoot me twice. And then she'd go to jail for murder but it wouldn't matter because she doesn't have a job.

Today I offered to drive her around, again, to hand out resumes. I would drive to a place and say, "What about here?" To which she'd respond with something as helpful as, "I'll try them later."

Ahhhhhh, now I see where the problem in finding a job lies. She suffers from later syndrome. I'll do it later. I'll check online later. I'LL ATTEMPT TO FIND A JOB LATER!

I see how this works. And I also see how it doesn't work.

So, we're at the mall. We are walking around. She has a folder full of resumes. I say things like, "Have you applied here?"

"No." That's all I get. A no. Just no.

"Why not?" I ask as sweetly as is physically possible.

Huff, grunt, eye roll. "Mooooomm. Geeeeeez."

After a half dozen of these responses I pull off my nice girl pants and put on my naggy mom hat. So now I am standing pantless, in the mall, wearing a stupid hat on my head. A look I don't care for, you should know, even if it is metaphorical. "Look kid, do you want a job or not? We are standing here right outside this store in the same mall you have come to 5 times looking for a job and you are telling me you haven't applied here yet? I am asking why. Eye rolling is not an appropriate response to this question."

"FINE!" And off she goes into the store. And the eye rolling becomes all mine.

Here's another fun conversation we had today:

Me, after she returns to the truck from going into a restaurant, "Well? Are they hiring?" A simple and appropriate question, in my opinion.

Her: "I don't know."

Me: "What do you mean, you don't know? Is it open?"

Her: "Yes"

Me: "Did you talk to someone."

Her: Yes"

Oh my gosh, kid! Throw me a bone!! You're killing me.

Me: "What did they say?"

Her: "The manager wasn't there."

Me, exasperated: "You know Cicely, you should still leave a resume when that happens."

Her, also exasperated. Unjustly so, I might add: "I DID MOOOOMMM!!! GEEEEEEEEZZZZZZ. I KNOW WHAT I AM DOING. I HAVE BEEN DOING THIS A LONG TIME. OH MY GOSSHH!"

Me: "Well, c'mon Cicely. Tell me these things so I don't think you're walking away without even trying."

Which isn't what I wanted to say at all. What I really wanted to say was: you know what you're doing, oh wise one? Really?? Because.....oh never mind, the rest is just mean and she's probably going to read this and then never speak to me again. Ohhhh, how I will miss the snarky one word answers. Eye rolling is non-verbal though so I am sure I'll still get plenty of those and her sweet, unabrasive nature won't be lost unto me forever.

So, now we are home, jobless, hot and spent. Taking our distance from one another in an attempt to recover from this torturous, yet ongoing event we lovingly refer to as the job hunt.

the family reunion

This month we had our very first family reunion, on my side. My mummy wanted it real bad-like so someone made it happen.

Not sure who it was, maybe my sister?

Anyway, four nights in a lodge in Waterton with 31 people. At first I was like, "Yippee!!!!! A family reunion!!!!!!" And then as time went on I found that exclamation marks were falling by the wayside and eventually it got to the point where I was like "A family reunion????? Whose idea was that????"

Mmmmm, skunk spray jelly beans.

And then I got there. And saw all my people in the same place. And I was all "Only four nights with all my people??" It just wasn't enough. The cuteness from the little ones was too much. We played and ate (oh mercy did we eat) and swam and walked and ate ice cream and played funny games that involved jelly beans that tasted like boogers and skunk spray and barf and an assortment of ill-tasting things. The kids had an amazing time together and all the grown ups got along. Not that the grown ups in my family don't get along but four nights in a lodge? C'mon, that's a recipe for disaster.

AmIright?





The man and I even sneaked away for a romantic dinner in Montana that may have included a steak the size of my head.

The time flew by. I loved it. It was a really great and wonderful and lovely experience. Except, my iPhone does not take great pictures at said lodge.

And then this happened...

i may be marathoning the mindy project as we speak

Forgive me blog, for I have sinned. It has been two months (exactly) since my lost blog post.

Was that sacrilegious? Unoriginal? I do apologize.

Honestly, though. Where does the time go? I don't even know where to start....

Since January school really has sucked the life out of me. And I have another noholdsbarred year left to go. Ugh...sigh...whyisitsohard? I am all tired and worn out and completely dazed. Like a shell of a human being.

That may have been a tad over dramatic.

I feel old. I might be old. I might be too old. Justkeepswimming. Over and over and over again.

So, I have been to my mummy's house, in the Okanagan, or the lake as I like to call it, twice this month already. That was a lot of commas, what am I learning at the Uni, heaven have mercy! The first time was gloriously relaxing. I took Amelia and her little friend Emily. I took Emily to keep Amelia out of my hair. I mean, I took Emily because...who am I kidding...I took her to keep Amelia occupied so as to not interfere with my entirely selfish beach novel reading. I am at eight novels finished since July 1st.

That's awesome, right?

Goof balls

So the second time I went I had planned only to take Holden and Amelia because their little cousins were going to be there to occupy them so as to not interfere with my beach novel reading. But then the teenagers decided they wanted to come, and not work as was originally planned, and I couldn't talk the man into ditching work and coming too, and so therefore I had the teenagers all to myself and there is just something about that that lacks in, hmmmm, what do you call it.....fun?

Just kidding, they're fun. #whatever.

Why are there so many commas in this post? I do not know.

So now I am home for the rest of the summer because football season starts on Monday and boyohboy do I love football season. Plus, also, I am doing a block week course first week in September (block week is when you do an entire semester in 5 days so really it'll be a pieceofcakeIamsure) and I already have homework for that so besides all the non-beach novel reading I plan on doing I also have a text book to read for a 5-day marathon course.

My life is so fun, I know.

Also, I have decided that I am on the hunt for the scariest book ever. And in this hunt I have discovered that I totally dig the King. Stephen King that is. He's loads of fun to read. I even had my first Stephen King induced nightmare last night. It was actually more like a Paranormal Activity dream where I was possessed by a demon and being dragged out of my bed and stuff and it was super scary but I have to admit, I kinda liked it.

I may be....unwell...in some respect or another. The 21 episodes of The Mindy Project I have watched in the last 24 hours may be proof of that. Or maybe a result of it? I don't really know at this point.

So...there you have it. Happy Monday and remember to read read read because it is amazing amazing amazing.

bait and switch

Once upon a time he brought roses every week, he wrote love letters, only used his best manners and never ever farted.

So I married him.

And then the flowers stopped and the bodily gases started and it came to my attention that boys are very very gross.

We call that the bait and switch. Well played, sir. Well played.

So the other night I climbed into bed after a long day. The man was already there, all cozy-like under his weighted blanket, Iggy. We settled in for an episode of Veronica Mars on the Flix when, all of a sudden, this conversation ensued.

"The cat puked on my blanket," he says.

"Oh..." I said, my eyes naturally scanning the blanket. The puke was still there. Still. Weird, I thought. Why is it still there?

"Are you going to clean it up?" I ask.

"Eventually," he says.

Sooo....I got out of bed and cleaned it up.

Will the romance ever die? Gosh, I sure hope not.