Saturday, February 23, 2013
Old School
Last night, around 5:30, I had a little boy who wanted nothing but snuggles. I wanted nothing but to cook dinner for the 6 year old (who was quickly going off the deep end) and me, who was starving! So we compromised. Kicked it old school, with the trusty old sling. Totally awesome, totally snuggly, totally reminded me of the old days - Griffin and I used to rock that thing daily at dinner time. Sweet memories!
Friday, February 22, 2013
Intentional Silence
It's quiet in here.
Last night, on Facebook, I complained about the noise levels in my house.
"Boys are noisy." I wrote. "Will they always be this loud?"
The general consensus was yes, indeed they will, and they might even get louder.
Good lord help us all.
It's funny, the more that I've spent time learning about Griffin and Aspergers, the more I've also learned about myself. There are so many aspergers traits that I see in myself when they're all written down in a list, and while I don't think that I myself land on the spectrum, I certainly have more in common with my eldest son than I might have originally thought.
Sensitivity to noise is a biggie. There always seems to be some sort of noise going on here. The children are hollering and yelling, the dog is barking, some annoying cartoon character on Netflix, the list goes on. I'm not a big music listener, preferring the sound of silence. When I'm working in the basement I'll usually put some music on, but when the sump pump kicks in, or the water filtration system does it's big once-daily flush, the noise (music) on top of noise is just too much for me. Now, sitting in the quiet of my living room, with one child at school, and the other burrowed in my bed (hopefully heading off to napland) it is mostly quiet. But even the constant whir of the fan on our fireplace is annoying me and putting me on edge.
Still, if I can tune that out (which I mostly can) and be alone with myself and the silence for a few minutes, I can usually reset.
We are always busy. Not just in this house, oh no, in EVERY house it seems. All of us lead such busy lives, coming and going, dropping off and picking up and running errands and so on. I've learned in the past little while, that for me, I NEED silence each day. Sometimes it's in a few stolen moments mid-day, sometimes it's in an intentional hour long walk in the evening, but I need it, crave it even.
Silence is golden they say. It's so good for us to turn off and tune out and be comfortable in our own skin with the sound of our own breath and our own heart beating. If we can't be comfortable in the silence of our own selves, how can we be expected to be comfortable out there in the big bad world each day?
Seek intentional silence. And then revel in it!
(This moment of stolen silence is brought to you by the distracting powers of Netflix on one certain preschooler, in a room on the other side of the house. With a pillow over his head. Don't worry, he put it there, not me!) ;)
Last night, on Facebook, I complained about the noise levels in my house.
"Boys are noisy." I wrote. "Will they always be this loud?"
The general consensus was yes, indeed they will, and they might even get louder.
Good lord help us all.
It's funny, the more that I've spent time learning about Griffin and Aspergers, the more I've also learned about myself. There are so many aspergers traits that I see in myself when they're all written down in a list, and while I don't think that I myself land on the spectrum, I certainly have more in common with my eldest son than I might have originally thought.
Sensitivity to noise is a biggie. There always seems to be some sort of noise going on here. The children are hollering and yelling, the dog is barking, some annoying cartoon character on Netflix, the list goes on. I'm not a big music listener, preferring the sound of silence. When I'm working in the basement I'll usually put some music on, but when the sump pump kicks in, or the water filtration system does it's big once-daily flush, the noise (music) on top of noise is just too much for me. Now, sitting in the quiet of my living room, with one child at school, and the other burrowed in my bed (hopefully heading off to napland) it is mostly quiet. But even the constant whir of the fan on our fireplace is annoying me and putting me on edge.
Still, if I can tune that out (which I mostly can) and be alone with myself and the silence for a few minutes, I can usually reset.
We are always busy. Not just in this house, oh no, in EVERY house it seems. All of us lead such busy lives, coming and going, dropping off and picking up and running errands and so on. I've learned in the past little while, that for me, I NEED silence each day. Sometimes it's in a few stolen moments mid-day, sometimes it's in an intentional hour long walk in the evening, but I need it, crave it even.
Silence is golden they say. It's so good for us to turn off and tune out and be comfortable in our own skin with the sound of our own breath and our own heart beating. If we can't be comfortable in the silence of our own selves, how can we be expected to be comfortable out there in the big bad world each day?
Seek intentional silence. And then revel in it!
(This moment of stolen silence is brought to you by the distracting powers of Netflix on one certain preschooler, in a room on the other side of the house. With a pillow over his head. Don't worry, he put it there, not me!) ;)
Winter fun
In all my years of living out of the city, I have never enjoyed winter like we are enjoying this one.
I don't want to wish away a single day of this beautiful season (however...a little dirt under the fingernails, and a few less layers will be more than welcome in a few short weeks.)
Monday, February 11, 2013
We got off the bus in 2010
I feel like there is a key part of my life that is missing right now.
I feel like there should be one ultimate organizational tool out there, that can keep me on top of shit All. The. Time.
I need there to be a master grocery list, that both my husband and I can access anytime either one of us finds ourseves at the store.
I feel like there should be a master calender, with everything on it, that we can both see from anywhere, at any time.
I know, I know, google calendar, shop-shop, app-app, whatever.
Here's the problem: I like pens. And paper. (Especially if they're pretty pens and/or paper. Or colourful. Or...*shiny.*)
*swoon*
!SNAPBACK!
I also love big calenders, painted on the wall in the kitchen. I like writing things down in notebooks. Ah, I love a good notebook! (What can I say, I'm old-school. I'm still putting two spaces after a period, for gawd sakes. OLD.(space)(space)SCHOOL.)
Where was I? (Sorry, distraction is also a serious problem for us geezers.)
Right. Technology, vs paper and shiny pens.
Alas, dear technologically advanced world, there is no way to combine the two. There is no way in the world to have me write things down in a notebook, and have them appear on Steve's "pick me up in the grocery store" app on his phone.
I feel like we got off the technology bus around 2010. And we need to get back on it, or we're going to get left behind.
Or one of our KIDS needs to pick up the keys and DRIVE THE BUS! (Not literally, please, children.)
I feel old. I guess I'm ok with it though. It's not even in a "hey you kids, get off my lawn" way. Just in a "can someone please make the CLOCK STOP BLINKING on the VCR!!" kind of way. Except it's the iPad, instead of the VCR. And if I play my cards right, the three year old might just be able to fix it for me.
Oh lawd, help us all!
Love it or leave it, it's here to stay!
I feel like there should be one ultimate organizational tool out there, that can keep me on top of shit All. The. Time.
I need there to be a master grocery list, that both my husband and I can access anytime either one of us finds ourseves at the store.
I feel like there should be a master calender, with everything on it, that we can both see from anywhere, at any time.
I know, I know, google calendar, shop-shop, app-app, whatever.
Here's the problem: I like pens. And paper. (Especially if they're pretty pens and/or paper. Or colourful. Or...*shiny.*)
*swoon*
!SNAPBACK!
I also love big calenders, painted on the wall in the kitchen. I like writing things down in notebooks. Ah, I love a good notebook! (What can I say, I'm old-school. I'm still putting two spaces after a period, for gawd sakes. OLD.(space)(space)SCHOOL.)
Where was I? (Sorry, distraction is also a serious problem for us geezers.)
Right. Technology, vs paper and shiny pens.
Alas, dear technologically advanced world, there is no way to combine the two. There is no way in the world to have me write things down in a notebook, and have them appear on Steve's "pick me up in the grocery store" app on his phone.
I feel like we got off the technology bus around 2010. And we need to get back on it, or we're going to get left behind.
Or one of our KIDS needs to pick up the keys and DRIVE THE BUS! (Not literally, please, children.)
I feel old. I guess I'm ok with it though. It's not even in a "hey you kids, get off my lawn" way. Just in a "can someone please make the CLOCK STOP BLINKING on the VCR!!" kind of way. Except it's the iPad, instead of the VCR. And if I play my cards right, the three year old might just be able to fix it for me.
Oh lawd, help us all!
Love it or leave it, it's here to stay!
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Finding warmth
Warmth is a funny thing.
Warmth can be found in the obvious places - a hot cup of tea, a roaring fire, a hot water bottle, a warm bath. The list goes on.
But sometimes warmth is found in unexpected places. (That shouldnt be so unexpected [and after a while aren't] if you really think about it.)
Warmth can be found when it is minus 30 degrees outside...on a vigourous (uphill, both ways) walk with a friend.
Warmth can be found on the windiest night that you can remember....around the fire with friends.
Warmth can be found inside a cold house....gathered around a kitchen table...with girlfriends and red wine to keep you warm.
Warmth can be found in a husband-less bed (who has left you alone with the children for a week...but has gone to Winnipeg, so at least you know he's not warm either!) with two children who have been doing nothing but driving you mental all day; with the wanting and the needing and the feed-me-more-food-ing that has been going on All. Day. Long. Warmth can be found when they snuggle in beside you ascloseastheycanpossiblyget with out ACTUALLY lying on top of you (which, some nights, they also do) and you remember why you wanted these beings, and why you had these beings, and why they are the most important thing in your lives and the reason you do all this.
Warmth comes from the outside. But it can also come from the inside.
Radiating out.
Warmth can come from a smile, a wave, a glance. A hug, an embrace, an elbow in the gut from a three year old. The funniest places.
Its the funniest things that can keep you warm.
Warmth can be found in the obvious places - a hot cup of tea, a roaring fire, a hot water bottle, a warm bath. The list goes on.
But sometimes warmth is found in unexpected places. (That shouldnt be so unexpected [and after a while aren't] if you really think about it.)
Warmth can be found when it is minus 30 degrees outside...on a vigourous (uphill, both ways) walk with a friend.
Warmth can be found on the windiest night that you can remember....around the fire with friends.
Warmth can be found inside a cold house....gathered around a kitchen table...with girlfriends and red wine to keep you warm.
Warmth can be found in a husband-less bed (who has left you alone with the children for a week...but has gone to Winnipeg, so at least you know he's not warm either!) with two children who have been doing nothing but driving you mental all day; with the wanting and the needing and the feed-me-more-food-ing that has been going on All. Day. Long. Warmth can be found when they snuggle in beside you ascloseastheycanpossiblyget with out ACTUALLY lying on top of you (which, some nights, they also do) and you remember why you wanted these beings, and why you had these beings, and why they are the most important thing in your lives and the reason you do all this.
Warmth comes from the outside. But it can also come from the inside.
Radiating out.
Warmth can come from a smile, a wave, a glance. A hug, an embrace, an elbow in the gut from a three year old. The funniest places.
Its the funniest things that can keep you warm.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Walking
So for anyone who expressed an interest in walking the Bruce Trail with me, I now have a date, and a walking partner, and THIS IS HAPPENING! We're going to start in Niagara in the second week of June, and walk for 7 days. So...who's up for a bit of walking?
Perspective
My friends, the weather these days has been downright insane. Last week it was -30 degrees. Yesterday it was +12. Tuesday night, the Noisy River had a crazy little flash flood, depositing large chunks of ice all over it's banks, and taking out a bridge railing or three. Then there was freezing rain, and then snow squalls, just to keep it interesting.
We've been under some sort of weather warning (or watch or "statement") pretty much consistently for the past 10 days. Wind warnings, snow squall warnings, rainfall warnings, freezing rain warnings, thunderstorms, you name it, we've see it.
We're going with it. I know it's effed up, and I know the planet is in serious serious doo-doo, but for this year we're rolling with it (versus the other option, which is bitching and complaining about it, and STILL having to deal with it.) The warm is giving us a respite from the effing cold. We've discovered that our house is pretty fricking poorly insulated, and that it needs some serious work in that area. We kind of thought that going in, but you always hope for it to turn out better than you think it is.
It hasn't this time.
So we're cold, but we're dealing with it. Because, thanks to Mother Nature and her menopause symptoms, mixed in with all this minus thirty degrees crap, there have been days of plus twelve -with rainboots, and splashing in the mud, and thoughts about spring, which are often what are needed to get though a dark rainy January day.
And when it's effing cold, sometimes the only way to keep warm is strap on your skates, and hit the pond for hours upon hours of skating, capped off with a bit of hot chocolate. That's not such a bad way to end the day either.
I'm tired of listening to people complain. I'm tired about hearing from people that are not greatful for the majority of the moments that they spend on this earth. Because there are people out there who are sufferring....truly truly suffering, and for the most part, we, in this country, are not. And me? I am really not either. Sure I'm cold, but put on another sweater and shut up about it already. At least I HAVE sweaters to put on, not to mention a roof over my head, and a fireplace that (poorly) heats my home.
Perspective, that's what it's all about these days.
We've been under some sort of weather warning (or watch or "statement") pretty much consistently for the past 10 days. Wind warnings, snow squall warnings, rainfall warnings, freezing rain warnings, thunderstorms, you name it, we've see it.
We're going with it. I know it's effed up, and I know the planet is in serious serious doo-doo, but for this year we're rolling with it (versus the other option, which is bitching and complaining about it, and STILL having to deal with it.) The warm is giving us a respite from the effing cold. We've discovered that our house is pretty fricking poorly insulated, and that it needs some serious work in that area. We kind of thought that going in, but you always hope for it to turn out better than you think it is.
It hasn't this time.
So we're cold, but we're dealing with it. Because, thanks to Mother Nature and her menopause symptoms, mixed in with all this minus thirty degrees crap, there have been days of plus twelve -with rainboots, and splashing in the mud, and thoughts about spring, which are often what are needed to get though a dark rainy January day.
And when it's effing cold, sometimes the only way to keep warm is strap on your skates, and hit the pond for hours upon hours of skating, capped off with a bit of hot chocolate. That's not such a bad way to end the day either.
I'm tired of listening to people complain. I'm tired about hearing from people that are not greatful for the majority of the moments that they spend on this earth. Because there are people out there who are sufferring....truly truly suffering, and for the most part, we, in this country, are not. And me? I am really not either. Sure I'm cold, but put on another sweater and shut up about it already. At least I HAVE sweaters to put on, not to mention a roof over my head, and a fireplace that (poorly) heats my home.
Perspective, that's what it's all about these days.
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