Thanks

Thank you house flies - for giving me something to do during the day that involves testing my skills of stealth, patience, and observance, ultimately giving me a satisfying feeling when I crush you into the wall

Thank you clocks - for always reminding me how much little time I have left to clean the house and make supper before Landon comes home

Thank you autumn - for making the challenge of quitting smoking that much easier. Your blistering wind and uncomfortable cold does not make a welcome environment for me to go outside and "relax"

Thank you Kijiji - for making me wonder what useless junk I have that someone else might want, urging me to spend time taking photos, writing ads, only to crush my hopes of easy money, because no one wants my useless junk

Thank you Coping Kit - for being there when I need you most

I Complain Too Much

I know that a lot of my posts are negative. I don't write about this stuff to gain pity, I simply just want to vent. When I started this blog, I wanted it to be about whatever it was about. Daily life, simply living. Unfortunately, lately, my life has been quite stressful. I do have a very very wonderful life, full of a lot of love and fun and happiness, but for some reason, I never want to write about those things. Today is no different, did you really think it was going to be though??? I don't normally discuss my childrens' personal tribulations to a public audience, unless of course, seeking advice, or because I think it might help someone with a similar problem, but today I'm going to talk about something troubling me very much. I'm not going to be specific, to keep my son's privacy, but I'm going to try to explain it to you as best I can. I realized today that I need to take my wonderful, beautiful, brilliant, near-perfect 5 year old son, to a psychiatrist. When I became a mother, I was prepared for normal child-related medical problems. Scratches, scrapes, bruises, broken bones, bumped noggins, flues, colds, chicken poxes, scarlet fevers, etc etc. But I never thought I would have to take my kid to a shrink. Never even crossed my mind. Of course I was worried that I, or at the very least, my family, would eventually corrupt him in some way, and he would have to take himself to a psych, but I never in a million years would have thought it would be a possibility at 5 years old. How do I deal with this sudden revelation? How do I explain to his teacher, to his grandparents, to my friends, that my son is in therapy? Most importantly, how do I do this without giving away his personal secrets? I, as I'm sure most mothers, want nothing less than perfection for my children. Of course I'm not stupid, and I know that its impossible for them to be perfectly healthy for their entire lives, it still bothers me when they're sick, and part of me dies when the doctor tells me he's asthmatic. It makes me feel like I've done something wrong, and makes me wonder if he would have been better off had I gone through with that adoption with that lovely couple in Ontario. Would be a tiny, super smart crazy kid who can't breath? Was there something, anything, I could have done to prevent this? I really don't know. I'm not someone who thinks about the what if's very often. I think its a really stupid way to think, and will eventually kill you. But with my kids, I can't help it. A lot of it stems from my childhood. Even though my parents are the best parents in the world, I know there is a lot of mistakes they made, that make me the little fuck up I am today. I don't care though, I'm happy with the way I am. Being a fuck up has its advantages. The fact that I'm a smart fuck up helps a lot. At least I KNOW there's something wrong with me, and can therefore watch out for the little dark passenger inside. It helps me detect fucked-upedness in others, helps me give advice to those fuck ups that need it, helps me grow and learn and blah blah blah I'm ranting about something completely off tangent and I'm sorry. I've mentioned before that I like to talk about myself, so you shouldn't be all that surprised. I don't want my child to be fucked up. My grown-up spawn - fine, but not my child. My innocent, sweet, amazing, better than the rest child. How the fuck am I supposed to deal with this? How the fuck am I supposed to help him? I just want him to be happy dammit. Why can't he just be happy and care-free like all the other children? Why can't he be perfect DAMMIT?!

Untitled

I'm sorry I haven't blogged in a while. I haven't really felt like it. I haven't really felt like doing anything lately. I hurt my back somehow a little over a week ago, and ever since, its been in constant pain. I've never had back pain like this before. It NEVER goes away. EVER! Sometimes its worse. Advil and Tylenol don't help, and when I take Robaxacet, I get all loopy so I can't take that until bed time. Because it hurts so much, I can't clean or cook very well, I can't sleep well, I can't shower or bath well, I can't do anything well. So because I'm a big bum lately, I'm getting really depressed about how wonderful of a mother I am. Not to mention the other stresses I have to deal with on a daily basis. I've faced the sad reality that I have to go back to work. I'm going to work evenings because I don't want to work full time days, and no one will give me the hours I want. I have to get a babysitter now. Someone I trust to come into my home every day and stay with my kids for a couple hours. I'll see Hayden for a half hour before he goes to school, for an hour after school, and if I'm lucky, a little bit before he goes to bed. That thought alone depresses me so much. But at least I'll be able to spend as much time as I can with Alex during the day. And, my kids will only be away from their parents for a couple hours, apart from school anyway. So when I try to think about my kids, and that I'm doing this for them.....well it doesn't make me feel any better at all actually. I'm really REALLY upset. But the fact is, we have no money. I can't afford to buy a cake for my baby's first birthday, let alone a present. And Hayden's is only a month after that, and there's Halloween costumes too. Neither of my kids have one that'll fit them. And then, Christmas. Fucking Christmas. If I was a selfish asshole, I wouldn't care. But I'm not a selfish asshole. And EVERY FUCKING YEAR I wish I had more money for Christmas. I want to buy everyone I know something special. I want to show people how much I love them with material objects. I HATE Marketlinc. I hate sitting in a chair type type typing, listening to customers bitch and wine and ask for discounts, listening to my co-workers wine and complain about how awful their single, childless lives are, listening to them demean each other behind everyone's backs, wondering if they're saying shit about me, then not caring. I hate the drama, the boredom, the Top 40's radio station or sometimes, if we're lucky, hip-hop. I hate the "Sell Casey, sell sell sell!!!!" I hate the pressure, the lack of exercise, the fact that everyone that I did love there is now gone and I have to go back to a bunch of foreign people to honestly, don't know what the fuck they're doing, or stupid teenagers who think they're so cool because they're salesmen, or the worst, university students. I need to do it for my kids, for my family. I need to keep telling myself that its only temporary, until I can get my dream job as a Superstore cashier. The best part is that when I'm working, during a slow time when no one's really talking, I just think. I think about what I'm doing in a dead end job when I'm 26. I think about how my kids are gonna look at me when they're older. When their friends ask, "What do your parents do?" I think about how embarrassed they'll be. Then I think that they don't realize how much I've sacrificed for them. Then I think about my mother. Then I think, when my kids are older, they'll understand. Then I think about how much I love them, and I'd rather work in a shitty office all day rather than risking my life, or overworking just to fulfill my own career dreams. I want to be a police officer so bad, and every time I see one I feel some sort of loss, but I need to keep thinking about my boys, and that nothing is more important than them. Not even me.

People Who Need To Get Their Act Together

1. Amy Winehouse - fantastic talent this one. A little messed in the head as you may have noticed, and as soon as she works through it, I'll be there.

2. Lauryn Hill - same sort of idea as Ms. Winehouse

3. Joaquin Phoenix - this guy has some serious mental and ego problems, but is a FANTASTIC actor and REALLY needs to smarten up. Now.

4. System Of A Down - my favourite FAVOURITE band. Has been on hiatus for WAY too long.

5. Tenacious D - stop making movies. Not that it wasn't the best movie ever, but your music is fathoms upon fathoms better. Plus Jack, honey, you're a terrible actor.

6. The people responsible for making The Boondocks - possibly the smartest cartoon I've ever seen. I am not black. Very far from it actually, but I LOVE this show and everything it represents. REPRESENT!

7. The Canadian Government - Too much going on here to even begin to try and explain.

8. Lindsay Lohan - I like her.

What Lies Beneath

In times of stress, I turn to music for relief when cigarettes are unavailable. Music is my muse. Especially 90's pop rock alternative. I know its not the most intelligent music out there, but it brings back memories that I forgot I had. It makes me feel young, and reminiscent (thank god for spellcheck on that one!) about the good old high school days. High school, for the most part, was the single worst time in my life. BUT it did shape me quite well into the person I am today. I love the person I am today......well, I love the person I was last year. Today, I'm boring and anti-social, so I don't really get to express myself a lot. This blog helps of course, but its just not the same. I like to have heated discussions with people and tell them my opinion and not care what they think, then listen to their opinion and not care what they think. Lately though, everytime I feel like bitching about something, or expressing my opinion, I get scared about what someone will think. I want to bitch about how awful it is to be a mom, but then I think about people who don't get that privilege and I feel guilty. Or because I just said that I wanted to bitch about being a mom, I want to clarify by saying, "don't get me wrong....blah blah blah" Sometimes I just want to say what I want to say and I want you to shut up. I LOVE being a mother, and I will never EVER give it up. I would never EVER want anything different. Sometimes though, it sucks. It really does. Mothers know what I mean. Mothers want to hear this too. They want to hear that another mother is hating sometimes. It may not be easy to hear though, that a mother, so fortunate like me, is wining and complaining about the most wonderful thing in the world. Be comforted though my uneasy friend, that I truly love being a mother, and therefore, it is okay for me to bitch. If I didn't like being a mother, and was really a very bad parent, then be concerned. But for now, shut up. Just shut up and listen. Let me bitch and moan and whine. Let me get it out of my system and then pity me, and then, if I don't follow up sometime soon with a dedication to my perfect children, then you may call child services. For the next, however long this takes, I'm NOT going to say something mean, then say something nice. I'm just going to say something mean. Because I feel like it.

Being a mother/wife is EXTREMELY difficult. I lost myself, I lost my freedom, I lost my money, I lost my being-able-to-do-whatever-I-want-whenever-I-want-ness. I have one priority and one only, my children. My bratty, whiny, poop-smearing, diaper messing, puking, eating, complaining, hyper, sick, dependent, crying, crying, crying, yelling, fighting, insulting, breaking everything, losing everything, ruining expensive things, de-valuing, ripping, messy, WONDERFUL PERFECT children. I have no Casey time. If I want Casey time, I feel guilty. My husband gets his time, my husband gets to shower and eat and sleep and drive and walk and shop and spend and leave whenever he feels like. He gets to prioritize his children when its convenient for him. He gets to be himself still. He hasn't lost himself, its still there, LOUD AND CLEAR. Rubbing in my face all day every day. I want to run away, I want to fly away. I want to listen to Lenny Kravitz from 1999 all day. I want to listen to Bittersweet Symphony as loud as possible with headphones on so I can drown everything away into musical bliss for 5 minutes and 59 seconds. I want to cry and cry and cry and cry and cry and cry for however long I feel like.

I love my family unconditionally and I will happily sacrifice everything and do anything for them. Honestly. I just want to bitch sometimes. Even if it doesn't mean anything.

The Hardest Button to Button

I can't tell what's the harder drug; alcohol, or nicotine. I quit drinking alcohol three years and nine months ago and never looked back. I quit smoking when I was pregnant with Hayden 7 years ago (oh my GOD! Seven years???!) and did look back. I started again when Hayden was about 6 or 7 months old. I quit again a couple years after that, but it only lasted about a month. Then I quit again at the same time I got pregnant with Alex, and started AGAIN when he was a few months old. I really thought I had beat it that time. I really thought I would never smoke again......BUT, when you're a smoker, you deal with stress by smoking, and when you're not an ex-smoker, dealing with stress is complicated and weird and when something huge comes along like Cancer, you smoke. There's nothing else you can do to ease the emotions........except maybe alcohol. This is why I can't figure out which one's worse. Alcohol and I have a really REALLY bad relationship. Full of pain and heartache and abuse and its best that we just lead our separate lives but I can't help but long for it when I'm feeling the absolute shittiest. It was always there for me to comfort me when I was upset. Two faced, alcohol is. It claims to love you, to want nothing more than to make you feel great, to help you forget all your worries and your stress, and then when you're most vulnerable, it takes you over. Consuming your every thought and emotion until you're nothing but a zombie, a slave to the drink and everything it wants you to do. It makes you realize that everyone is wrong, that the world is out to get you, that it is your only friend. I don't know how I managed to get out of that relationship but I did. Landon is the most amazing person in the world. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have made it out. He helped me realize what Hayden and him meant to alcohol. Alcohol didn't care about them, it didn't care about me. It was using me, abusing me and my vulnerabilities, so I had to leave. It took a lot of work and a lot of courage, but I did it. Nicotine.......this one is MUCH more sneaky. Clinging to the stress. You don't even realize what its doing until its much too late. Smart sneaky seductive cigarettes. This is why I can't figure out which one's worse. Alcohol comes on strong and fast. Nicotine is slow, and sticky. It does such a good job that even after you've been away from each other for so long, you see it, and you want it. You smell it, and your heart races. It consumes your thoughts and cravings for eternity. You'll never be able to let it go. You love it. It loves you. Sure its going to kill you, but its out of love. It loves you so much that it doesn't want anyone else to have you. It craves you just as much as you crave it. It knows that once your a smoker, you're always a smoker. It knows you'll never forget what its done for you. It knows you'll never care how much it hurts during the bad times, just how wonderful it feels during the good times. It knows you'll always come back. That's why it never hurts you badly, just enough to make it exciting, to entice you to always want more. Fucking assholes all of them. And yet marijuana is bad?

This Is My Brain On Drugs

The only thing keeping me somewhat okay through this process:

Coffee and Cigarettes

I'm pretty sure I spelled cigarettes wrong but I don't care. Okay I do care. Spellcheck......and we're good, I did spell it right. Alright now, today, well, last night, I decided to quit smoking today. It is 12:43 pm and I have not had one yet. Mostly because I don't have any, nor do I have any money to buy some. I really don't feel like going over to my neighbours and asking if I can buy a smoke for 50 cents, or a dollar, or whatever the going rate is these days. So I am not smoking. This is a good thing. I need to quit smoking, for good this time, and not start again. Me and cigarettes really don't get a long. I've got chronic bronchitis because of these assholes and every time I finish a smoke it feels like its taking all my energy in the world to breathe, or is it breath......fuck I don't care. The problem with this cold turkey thing though, is that I like smoking. I like the stress relief, the relaxing time away from the kids so I can read, the social aspect, the menthol. Don't get me wrong here, I HATE smoking. Its disgusting and expensive and extremely dangerous, especially to me and my stupid non-smoke-handling lungs. Not to mention it sets a really bad impression on my children. I can't lecture them to never smoke, with a smoke in my hand. Its not fair to them, that's why I started after all, because my parents did it, so it was only fair that I got to. Already today I have yelled at my 11 month old baby for playing with a computer mouse, thrown the phone across the room because Alex had left it off the hook and I couldn't stand that beeping for one more second, cried with Alex because he's tired and WON'T go to sleep, begged and pleaded with myself to STOP thinking about nicotine, and I have eaten EVERYTHING in my house. I've been listening to Mastadon and Sigur Ros all day. Hopefully the complete clash in genres would help to keep my mind busy. I've been trying to clean the house but Alex keeps crying and crying and CRYING AND HE WON'T SHUT UP DAMMIT! I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him................oh I can't wait for these three days to be over

Absent

When I haven't blogged for a couple of days, I spend a lot of time thinking about what my next post is going to be about, and even write most of it in my head as I'm falling asleep. When I wake up though, I forget what I was going to write about, and when I go to type, nothing comes through my fingers, so I don't add anything new for a couple days, and for that I apologize. Unfortunately, this is another one of those times where nothing is coming to me as I type. Its been like this for a while. I would like to say that I have writer's block, but considering I am not a writer, this doesn't apply. There have been a lot of stresses in my life lately that I've had to deal with, and therefore, when I come to type, I can't get my mind to close in on one subject enough for me to type about it.

The Reason I Was Born

I would be nothing without them.

Humbleness

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTyrcw9x5l8

I saw a short clip of this man in a preview for the show America's Got Talent. I have never seen this show, and never been interested in this show, until I saw the preview. He was on the season premiere and after watching it, I was hooked. I've seen every episode this year, sometimes more than once, and that's saying a lot because its on twice a week, sometimes two hours per show. Kevin Skinner stirred feelings inside me that I have never felt before. I've been moved by musical performances times before, but never by someone so polite, so genuine, so down to earth and as real as real can be, and so humble. I fell in love the second I heard his beautiful voice, saw his emotions flowing through him and his guitar. Saw him forgetting everyone was watching, as if it was just him and his guitar. I HATE country music. I have only ever listened, willingly, to Johnny Cash and Garth Brooks. They don't have a genre, they are their own musicians, like Kevin. I will buy every album Kevin puts out, I will go hang out with cowboys if he ever comes here to play a show, I will love him til the day I die and then some.

I don't really have a point to this post except to show you someone who truly deserves to be seen. He is as pure as pure can be, and as wonderful as wonderful can be, and he doesn't even know it. He doesn't even know it. God I love people like that.