The Three-Year-Old Roller Coaster Of My Life

Three years...I can't believe that my baby, once a tiny fragment of time and space, is now 3 years old. She is a walking, talking little person who has thoughts, imagination and a personality like no one else. I used to carry her in my belly. Now I carry her ON my belly...well to the side of it. Her tiny little fists used to curl around my pinkie finger. Now her little hand curls itself into my hand when we walk. Her hair used to be a little fuzz on the top of her head. Now her hair grows (wild) down her back, into her face and I am forever trying to tame it into submission (against her vehement protests and cries). I can't believe how much these 3 years have changed everything. Things I never realized about motherhood: 1. How EVERY day is a challenge full of rewards and exhaustion. -She can wear me out and make me sigh with happiness in the span of five minutes...no lie. Between potty training, getting rid of her bottle, brushing teeth and learning manners...I'm wiped out thinking about what more we have to do...then I remember she starts junior kindergarten next year...and I'm ready to pass out... 2. How I couldn't do what I do without my support network. -My husband is officially my saviour. I couldn't deal without having him there to keep me from melting down. He takes over without me having to say anything (usually the screaming and crying jolts him-Abby's, not mine!) and calms her and I down when both of us are overwrought and breaking down. My mom, who watches my girl two days a week for free and keeps her overnight once a week, give us a break and saves us some money and takes care of her just like a grandma would...with lots of TLC and home cooking! My neighbour and friend, who watches her three days a week, is amazing to her and charges us WAY less than we would have to pay elsewhere and never penalizes us for if Abby is sick or if we have to switch a day or ask for another day at the last minute. 3. How stubborn she can be. -Holy mama, is my child independent and stubborn. If she likes something, game on. If she doesn't, there is NO power on earth that will change her mind. I am constantly learning what my mom always said "Choose your battles" So if she decides AGAINST wearing a coat, I will bring it along and put it on her once she realized it's cold out, instead of struggling forever trying to get (and keep) it on her. It's a work in progress. 4. How hilarious I think my child is. -My mom used to say my brother and I always amused the "heck" out of her. And here I had always thought it was just my brother (known as the funny one). I get it now. Abby, with her insights, thoughts and imagination, kill me. I don't think one day goes by that she doesn't make me genuinely laugh. 5. How truly hard it is to be a mom...but it's worth it. -I can be having the worst day ever, ready to run away from it all and all it takes is those moments in the dark when I cuddle with her in bed and she reaches over and strokes my face, plays with my hair and whispers "I love you Mommy". Nothing, NOTHING, kills those bad moments in life quicker. 6. How much I love being her mommy. -When she's upset, she wants me to pick her up, rock side to side, kiss her head and stroke her hair. Her hand always reaches behind my head and strokes my ponytail and her body is completely melded into mine. Though she is getting bigger and bigger, heavier and heavier, I will pick her up as long as I can and give her that comfort. I know that as she gets older, more and more challenges will be thrown at me and my relationship with her. But I know that right now, my little girl is still my little girl and I'm ok with letting it stay that way for a while.

The "Waking" Dead

So, I thought I was in the clear. Once we moved Abby to a "big girl" bed, she slept through the night like a champ, with only the occasional middle of the night waking. Sure, she stopped letting me sleep in until 9 a.m. (she'd just play in her crib) but I was ok with that. Suddenly in the last few months, she started coming through the house, up the stairs to our bedroom (our house is the main floor, with our bedroom and 1/2 bath upstairs) in the middle of the night, startling me awake when she was whimpering next to me in the dark. I never brought her into bed with us because a) she's a crazy flailer and b) with only a queen size, it's way too tight and c) usually I won't sleep, even if she does. So, I pick her up, bring her back to her room and give her another bottle (we're working on weaning off the bottle but this mid night wake up is deterring that), then if I'm lucky, she's asleep until 7 a.m. (no more sleeping in for ME!) But I don't love her wandering through the dark house, coming up our stairs. Plus, I have to wake up, put her back to bed and then lie in bed, praying she won't get up again. Repeat over and over again and now I'm drinking coffee (I'm a hard core tea drinker and HATE coffee!) and falling asleep all the time or feeling like I'm going to. My sleep is shot. I try getting my husband to get up but waking him is like moving a boulder. And if I DO get him up, he gets mad at her, uses his "pissed off daddy voice" and she ends up really crying. It doesn't help the situation. It's not like she's doing it to be defiant! She could be sleep walking, having nightmares, etc. So, I end up having to take over anyway. But it was getting worse. She wouldn't really open her eyes fully, so she was getting klutzy (doesn't help that I'm her mom!!) One time, she walked right into our wall. Another time, it was the edge of the door. Then, she walked into the open fridge door while I was getting more milk for her. Last week was the final straw. I came home after having coffee with a friend and when I came in the front door, her door was open. Immediately, I started looking around for her. In the living room...nope. Dining room...nope. Then I saw a little pile of pink clothes on the stairs going to our room. I moved closer and sure enough, she was laying on her arms on one step and her knees on the lower step (up near the top, of course)...oh, and she was fast asleep. I took a pic cause I couldn't believe it and that's when I realized she was out cold. I called her name and finally tickled her foot. She moved and immediately it was "uh, Mommmmmmy!!" I scooped her up in my arms (wondering why she hadn't gone into the bedroom and why in god's green earth my husband, who was asleep, hadn't heard her) and put her back into bed. All I could think was "What if she had fallen down the stairs?" Now, I was really worried. I talked to my husband and my other mom friends and they all said "put a gate up across her door." So, that night, that's what I did. She was surprisingly cool with seeing me put it up before I put her to bed, even asking why I was doing it and when I said "Because Abby wanders the house at night and Mommy is afraid you are going to hurt yourself", she said "Ok, Mommy." Other than the one time she pushed through the bottom corner and was playing at the top of the stairs (at least this was at 7 a.m. so not too bad), I was able to keep her contained. Did this stop the night waking though? In a word...NO! Now, she'd just bang on the gate and yell for me...but at least I wasn't worrying about her wandering through the house, possibly falling down either our stairs or the ones going to the basement (another fear of mine cause we have to leave the door to the basement open for my cat because his litter box is down there). And I'm still the one getting up but at least, for the most part, it's only once a night. So I take it in stride, drink some coffee and hope this doesn't last much longer. I really hate having to gate her like a wild animal! And my husband wonders why I always nap? Hmmm...gee, let me think about that one...after my nap! zzzzzzz

Nail envy does NOT translate into beauty nails!

I've been contemplating those "peel and stick" nails (not to be confused with the press on nails) from Sally Hansen for a while now. I liked the possibility they represented. I've always been crappy at painting my fingernails. First, my nails can never seem to grow long, they always start cracking, breaking or peeling, so I keep them trimmed short. I've tried the press on nails (I did this for my bridal shower...then spent the remaining time fruitlessly searching for the ones that fell off with my bridal party). Then, I suck at painting them (one hand looks like a child did it, the other hand looks like a blind person did it) and I hate the feeling of nail polish on my fingers. I use my hands all the time and always seem to have my hand near my mouth (stress relief...and this explains why I also break out around there too). So, I usually avoid it, but my husband always says how pretty it would look if my nails were painted (he loves the look but can't stand the smell of the nail polish or remover...I tell him to suck it up...if he wants the pretty, he has to put up with the stink) so I try. I inevitably fail...but I try! So what has changed? Pinterest...I'm totally addicted. It's like crack. I see this site, with all these beautiful pics and think I can do anything...even when I KNOW I am not capable. Surprisingly, this has extended to nails. I have a bunch of pictures of nail polish styles and I start going "Wow, that's so pretty! I can totally do that!" *FYI, I can NOT!* I'm too cheap to go to a salon and pay someone to do it. I grew up with the mentality of paying someone to do it when you can do it yourself is just frivolous. Maybe if we were more well off or I was more vain about stuff like that (or cared more), I'd do it more regularly. I think I've had maybe 6 manicures and 12 pedicures in my life. I save them for special occasions, birthday, wedding (I even got a GEL manicure for that!! I was so fancy...but once the honeymoon was over, I ripped every last one off!) or if I get one as a present. I have nail polish, have ideas on how to make my nails look good and fail every time. Case in point: Sunday night I wanted to try this thing where you have one colour on your nail and then another one drizzled on the tips...yeah, failed at that! Then, another one showed adding a few nail polish colours to a makeup sponge (triangle one) and dabbing it onto each nail, creating an ombre effect...yeah didn't work. So I had bought the peel and sticks (which were $10, but I justified it, as all women are inherently capable of doing when it comes to stuff like that) and planned on doing it for a night out. I ran out of time and didn't do it but last night, I decided to do it. I thought, easy peasy. Just like putting on a bandage. Peel the backing off, stick it to the nail and file off excess. That's what the instructions said. Well, maybe it's just me...but it did NOT work like that at all! Here's how MY experience went. 1. Peel off protective coating. Check! 2. Peel off backing. Check! 3. Break off tab where you want the edge to be. Check! 4. Press gently to nail. Check! Wait, why did it fall off? Check instructions...yep, did it all...so why isn't it sticking to my nail? Do I need to lick it first? Maybe there is ANOTHER backing...spend 10 minutes trying to find phantom backing, only to rip nail (not mine, the press on). Throw on table. Grab another nail. 5. Repeat first three steps. 6. Press gently to...really? WTF? Toss another nail. 7. Read instructions again. Nope I did it right...did I buy defective nails? Toss another nail on table. 8. Grab another nail...repeat and now I'm getting really frustrated. Did I mention that I'm doing this AFTER both my child and hubby are in bed? At least no one is witnessing my pathetic attempt. This should be easy. I feel like an idiot. 9. After I plough through the first package, I open up the next package and pray that maybe I just got a faulty first package. It's easier than admitting it's ME! 10. Peel off backing first (maybe I did it in the wrong order). Peel off front. Only part of the "nail" comes off...but it's better than nothing so I stick it to my pinky. Success! Now I have to "gently" file off the excess. I file. Nothing. Oops, wrong side! I file again and the "nail" starts sliding. I put down the file...and pick up the cuticle stick. I use that to "trim" off the excess (I compare this to using a knife to trim off the excess of a pie crust in the plate). THEN I file...a corner lifts up and I use the file to smack it back down. Sigh...one nail down. Grr...why is there a sliver down the side of my nail completely bare? I refuse to waste another nail so I pick up the excess I trimmed off and slap it back on my nail and trim it around the old piece and the edge of my nail. Ok, now to pat it down, smooth it out and maybe file it on top...ok, finally DONE! 30 minutes later and my one pinky is done. (Note: I should have given up at this point, but I am a stubborn wench and I already wasted the money and a whack of other nails from the first package so by golly, these were getting done!) 11. Repeat step 10...since 1-4 didn't work at ALL! Another excess trimmed...another little piece missing (grumble grumble grumble). Done! 12. And now time for another show! I was planning on getting this done in the time span of one show and then bedtime...but since that didn't work...time for another show! Finish up right hand...and that was the EASY hand...cause I'm a lefty. 13. Start on left hand. Wondering if I'll have enough nails for the left hand. Wondering if I can just do the one hand and convince people it's the newest "it" thing to do...yeah, probably not. Sigh... 14. Start viewing the discarded nails and wondering how hard it would be to salvage them. Beginning to think I should just spring for the professional gel manicure again...at least they stayed on and looked pretty...sigh again... 15. Resign myself to my fate and work on piecing together the rest of my nails with the leftover bits and trying to make them stretch to all five fingers. Patchwork nails, anyone? Thank goodness I pick the glitter ones and not a defined pattern like houndstooth or stripes, I would have been done after the first nail. 16. Finally finished...an hour and a half and two shows later. They look...like shit...fml...I'm going to bed. P.S. They stink too. I give up...I'm getting a massage next time. I'm so stressed out. P.P.S. Here is the final result. Enjoy it now because I'm sure by the weekend, they'll be completely gone or looking like crap!

Do I HAVE to let her grow up?

Letting Abby grow up is harder than I thought. I'm definitely not rushing her but I'm not holding her back either. So, why do I still rock her to sleep (well, doziness) in my arms when I put her to bed? I've finally figured it out. I'm NOT doing it for her (cause I could be tough and chuck the rocking chair or at least move it out of the room). I'm really doing it for me. I get it. All day long, she's away from me while I work. At night, she's either too busy to cuddle or doesn't want to. Getting her to sit still only happens when we are in the car. So, why do I do it? Because it's the one time of day that she turns back into my little baby. She lays in my arms, sprawled out (and yes, she does take up a LOT more room on my lap now!) and has her bottle (we're slowly working on weaning THAT off but she doesn't do a soother or suck her thumb so it's her security blankie) and just snuggles into me. She smells so adorable, she sighs, I can kiss her and stroke her hair and she LETS me. No "No Mommy!" or swatting me away. It's the one time when I get to get my mommy fill. I can watch her in her sweetest. Her eyes closed, her little cheeks moving as she has her bottle, her little hand twisting in her hair. She's not frowning, throwing a temper, fidgeting, running away or crying. Just letting me adore her again. Sigh...not gonna lie...it's hard to let that go. I know I have to eventually but in the meantime, I will not begrudge those moments of my time. I know I should have trained her to go to sleep on her own ages ago but I know that even as she gets older, she'll want me to cuddle with her in bed, reading a book, singing to her or rubbing her back. It's what her sister did. I used to have moments of wishing Bella would just go to bed on her own because I was missing out on time with friends when they were over visiting or because I was tired and wanted to go to bed myself. But with Abby, I know how fleeting all this is and how quickly they go from wanting you near them to pushing you away so if I have to sacrifice some time now to get to cuddle with my little girl, I'll take it and hold on for dear life. When her guard is down like that, she only wants me and I'm sorry but I frigging love that! A lot of times in my life, I feel like I can't do anything right. And maybe this isn't right either but she wants it and I need it. In that darkened room, with her little music box playing out that same tune she's fallen asleep too since she was born, we have our "moment" again. I can't be stressed, angry, upset or worried when I get to hold that little angel in my arms. And when I whisper "I love you Abby" and she opens her eyes, smiles, takes her bottle out of her mouth and whispers "I loves you too Mommy", my heart melts and I know that nothing in this world will ever make me feel so at peace. And THAT is a true gift for me!

The look of Mommy!

I've come to the conclusion that since having Abby, I now know what the "look" of a mom really is. Let me break it down...and I know not ALL moms go through this but here's how I'VE changed since having my baby two and a half years ago.
1. The ponytail holder on the wrist. In case I need to whip my hair into a ponytail. To be fair, I've been doing this for years, but chasing around my toddler, my thick hair gets hot on my neck very quickly so I need something to whip it up at a moment's notice. And when I do it, it does NOT look like the celebrity moms who also rock this look.
2. Mysterious stains on clothing at any given time. First it was spit up, then formula, then anything my daughter was eating. Then, she got involved in the eating process. Now I don't get spit up on...I get handled. Nothing worse than a sticky toddler's fingers! Oy!
3. Bruises everywhere. I've always been klutzy, I know this. But when I look down at my knees, I always have a bruise. Whether I'm walking into child-sized furniture or my kid is walking into me, I'm a maze of bruises. Not to mention how many times I get hit in the back, elbow or side while trying to rush out the door in the morning.
4. No makeup. I've never been a makeup addict (except for the 80's, which I'm NOT apologizing for!) but now I can spend days without makeup. I don't always do it intentionally, but once I realize I'm makeup free, I try not to make contact with mirrors. Out and about is one thing. Out and about and realizing you look like a "before" shot of a makeover is another.
5. Sturdy necklaces ONLY. I used to wear all kinds of necklaces. Long, short, beaded, chains. But now, because of curious fingers and possible breakage, I stick to my chunky "sturdy" necklaces that don't break. I also make sure I never wear bracelets or big dangly earrings. I've seen beads explode into a tiny pinging mess on the floor and have no desire to have an earring ripped out of my lobe. I dress for survival now!
6. Flats or sneakers. I always wonder how celebrities can chase their kids in stilettos or those ridiculous platforms. Oh, wait...they have NANNIES...who are obviously going to be in sneakers. Maybe THIS is why I'm not famous...hmmm...well, I live in sneakers or flats. Ok, I usually have before but sturdy shoes and sturdy jewelry are essential!
7. Pants at all times! I do wear skirts to work and even dresses. But when I know I'm going to be hanging out with my kid, it's pants, jeans or shorts ALL the time. I can just visualize her yanking down my skirt by accident, or pulling it up or me trying to pick her up and giving everyone a show. But by wearing jeans and pants, I can easily chase her, bend over and sit down on the floor when she's having a meltdown.
8. Layers. I'm a layer girl but now my weekend look is usually a tank top, t-shirt and hoodie. When I get hot, running around, bending over, I can take off the hoodie easily. If I'm cold, zip it up. Even in the winter, I do this look.
9. Tucking a tank into EVERYTHING. I love my layers but I HATE back drafts. Bending over, I get that little sliver of space between my top and bottom and it drives me nuts. So I now have tank tops in 300 colours and you will 95% of the time see one tucked into my jeans or pants or shorts. Besides, when you decide to sit on the floor with your kid and your husband starts to tell you what underwear you are wearing, at least having that tank top to cover it up means not EVERYONE will know what undies you are wearing.
10. Diaper bag as purse. During the week, I'm all purse. On the weekends, I usually toss it on the counter, grab my wallet and other essentials and toss them into her small diaper bag. I know, hot huh? But I can get her diapers, a change of clothes (for her, not me...unfortunately), wipes, my wallet, snacks and a sippy cup all in there and plus, I can put it down and not worry. Who's going to steal a worn out diaper bag? It's not new, designer or slightly cool. It's faded green, old and tired. Perfect!
So there you have it, my Mommy style secrets. I haven't changed much. But I have been trying a little on the weekends when I have a few minutes to myself. I have perfected the little front pouf and pony so I look like I did something other than roll out of bed and threw my hair into an elastic. (This requires a little hairspray, two bobby pins and my ponytail holder...even gimpy hair me can't mess THAT up!) and I have this powder foundation that covers up all my pimples and blotches and a little bronzer and eyeliner and I look like a cute mom instead of sleep deprived and wanting a siesta!

35 Things to do before I'm 35

I have heard of these lists, read them and thought about them...but then I realized "Holy crap, I will be 35 this October!" and I thought, "Yeah, why NOT!" So here it is... 35 Things I want to do before I turn 35-Deadline is October 26, 2012 *These aren't in order of importance...just in order of when my brain thinks of them For me: 1. Hair cut (Victoria Beckham) REALLY SHORT and edgy. 2. Get a tattoo. (SAVE FOR BIRTHDAY) 3. Grow my nails long and healthy. 4. Paint my nails really cool and funky. 5. Finish reading Eclipse. 6. Read Breaking Dawn. 7. Have a spa day. 8. Get rid of breakouts and problem spots. 9. Learn to do a front flip on the trampoline. 10. Go away for a weekend by myself. 11. Do Zumba or take a class. 12. Take yoga again. 13. Pick a project and FINISH it. 14. Use deep fryer to make GF fish & chips 15. Go see 5 movies I’m excited about. For ABBY: 16. Make Abby five things. 17. Take Abby to Canada’s Wonderland. 18. Finish Abby’s Year 1 scrapbook. 19. Take Abby hiking 5 times. 20. Take Abby camping. 21. Get Abby potty trained. 22. Complete Abby’s Year 1 photo album. 23. Take Abby to the zoo or petting farm. 24. Take Abby to Crystal Beach or Bing 5 times. 25. Do 5 crafts WITH Abby. Relationship, misc. 26. Go rock climbing. 27. Go AWAY for vacation. 28. Get pregnant. 29. Redecorate our backyard to look good. 30. Make my relationship with Clayton a priority again. 31. Finish redecorating/fixing up front hall closet. 32. Do something about my sciatica/piriformis. 33. Organize all my craft stuff. 34. Organize all my papers. 35. Get a new job closer to home with better hours.

Grocery shopping with toddlers...

So Saturday night I was bored, wanted to get out of the house, Clayton was being a lump on the couch and we needed a few things at the grocery store, so decided to go. I figured since Abby was in such a good mood, had her nap, I brought her with me. I knew I was only going to be there for a short period of time so even if she had a meltdown, I would be okay.
We got there and she wanted to get in the cart...then she wanted out, then in...I was already getting frustrated and we hadn't even entered the store yet. Then I remembered those little "kid" carts that she used once before. "Let's go get Abby a cart!" Abby's eyes lit up. "Ok, let's go Mommy!" She ran over to the carts and pulled one out, nearly knocking over another child in the process...but no tears so all was good. Then, we commenced getting groceries. I figured that she'd "help" me put things in her cart and love pushing it around. Nah...what she really loved was the freedom to put anything her heart's desire wanted in "her" cart. First, it was a lime. Then, an orange. A bag of cranberries. Oops, gotta go get a loaf of Wonderbread, Mommy...ooh, what are these? I'll only take one...chestnut? Huh...
I had nothing in my cart and my kid was getting a bizarre assortment of stuff. I never told her not to, I just snuck behind her and put them back while she was off getting another thing. An apple...no, put that one back, maybe a green one? Ooh, raisins! Some tortillas, multi grain bread...MOMMY, it's CAKE! Ok, I need to put this bread away and get the cake. I know I could have been irritated by all this extra work. What was supposed to be a short grocery trip was becoming a three ring circus workout...for me! But truthfully, I didn't mind. She was so happy, so interested in the food and running down the aisles with her little cart, she made a cute picture. People smiled at her, laughed when she decided to put something back and get something else. I was just keeping her moving along and when her cart got full, she just started dumping her cart's contents into mine and start all over again. I didn't buy anything she put in there, except for the pretzels (cause man, this kid loves her pretzels) and a green apple...oh and a kiwi (cause on the drive over, she asked for a kiwi). I just loved watching her having so much fun. She didn't whine, cry, throw herself down on the floor or throw stuff around. And when we were all done, she took her cart over to the others and put it back while I waited in line for her. She didn't toss it in the general direction, nope, she very carefully put it right back in. Then she came back and asked if she could have pretzels...in a bowl...and watch Barbie. I smiled and said "Ok, but what do you say?" She looked up, pushed her shaggy little mop out of her blue eyes and smiled "Please Mommy?" And these are the moments that make your heart swell. I know she will cause me frustration and grief many times throughout her childhood but right now, I'm just treasuring these little moments where I utterly and completely am just enjoying being with her. Sigh...

Things to think about...

Lately, I have been thinking about my past...not that it matters but I think of it. I long for those carefree days when there was no pressure, I felt happier (even when I was going through teen hell), summer was fun and I looked forward to things. I know I have changed, life happened. I am older but still I dwell on those old memories, old feelings. Like having them again will change things or make me feel better (cause I know, deep down, that they really won't). Nothing is ever as good as it was when you first remember it...which is why you long for it again. A first boyfriend, the anticipation of a first kiss, feeling like this sexy person that can flirt, have fun and not have any guards up.
But before you think the worst of me, I love my husband very much. He knows me more than anyone else. He gets me, he fights for me. He supports me, he holds me. I wouldn't do anything to jeopardize that. But still, the memories flitter through my mind. So how do I try not to wish for those feelings again? It would be awesome if you could just magically have those feelings again? It's like a drug rush. But oh well...since I am not going back in a time machine to being 13 and in love for the first time, I must get over it and focus on my marriage and making THOSE feelings stronger and stronger so that when I am feeling nostalgic, I can shrug and say "Please...that was so lame!" Sigh...

How to live more economically

In the aftermath of my little girl's second birthday and with Christmas looming precariously in the near future (yes, I said it...Christmas!), money is tight in our household. My Visa has more on it than I would like to admit and we are looking at ways to cut back. The worst part is that when I look at the frugal websites, I'm doing all the right things...so where is my money?
1. Bringing your own instead of buying. I am NOT one of those people queuing for three hours every morning at Timmie's. I make my tea at home and me and my flask drive the commute together. Also, I seldom eat out for lunch. I brown bag it every day, whether it's leftovers or stuff I buy along with our groceries just for lunch.
2. Clip coupons. I do it. I clip them. But then, like my bags that I'm supposed to bring with me, I forget them at home...I need to be better at this one.
3. Wash laundry in cold water. I do this...in fact, we NEVER use hot water. But we do need to get back to using our drying rack to cut back on using our dryer.
4. Turning lights off. We're getting better at this. We have a motion sensor on the one so it only turns one when you walk into the room. It is awful funny to watch people freak when they are standing there and then it shuts off! But I am working on this one too. I have gotten better!
5. Using those funky lights that use less energy. Thanks to my hubby, almost all of our lightbulbs are the energy saving ones...so score one for us! Plus, we have a programmable thermostat which I know is a huge cost savings.

However, we still have a lot to work on, namely:
1. Eating out. We like to order pizza or go out for dinner once in a while. Even grabbing a bite at the fast food places can add up.
2. Buying stuff we don't need. I'm a sucker for sales and dollar stores are a huge weakeness. Does Abby need more toys or do I need another soup ladle? Here is where I need to limit going to stores to avoid purchasing "stuff"
3. Groceries. We spend way more than I want to. I'm working on that too. I found that keeping a list, sticking to it and writing down the price of EVERYTHING and tallying it WHILE shopping, keeps me on task...but it's a lot of work to do it and time consuming...hence the problem. Plus, having to buy gluten free IS more expensive so I try to buy more stuff that I can make than prepackaged cookies or snacks...it's hard though...I like convenience...it's so...CONVENIENT!
4. Stuff for Abby. Growing up with a single working parent, we didn't have a lot of extra stuff. I have a hard time NOT getting stuff for Abby. I try to limit myself to birthday, Christmas and other holidays but why do all girls' clothes and toys have to be so damn cute? It's not fair. I know she doesn't care what she wears...but I really would love to be able to buy more cute, fun clothes and not just buy the necessities. I'm working on it...

But it doesn't feel like the sacrifices have been helping. I haven't gotten my haircut since um, March (??), don't get pedicures, manicures, don't have a gym membership or take any classes (I didn't even take yoga, trying to save money)...so where is my money going??
Gas (I spend $500 a month with me commuting from Grimsby to Mississauga alone)
Food (groceries, eating out, ordering in, lunch food, etc)
Therapy (I have to pay up front and have no idea how much mine and Clayton's coverage will cover)
Shoppers (prescriptions-again, covered but have to pay up front)
My Visa keeps creeping higher and higher...ahh! I need to fix my monetary self! Sigh...shoot me...

What makes me happy?

I think I need to keep a list handy so that when I’m down (which has been A LOT lately, I know…not good), I can read it and at least feel like SOMETHING in my life isn’t completely messed up.
WHAT MAKES ME HAPPY
1. Getting to leave work early and the traffic is light and it’s sunny and I have the windows down and there is awesome fun music on the radio.
2. That moment when I slide into bed and know that I get to go to sleep or read a little. It just feels so good.
3. When Abby gives me a hug or kiss without me begging her to. I could die a happy death feeling that love coming off her.
4. Peanut butter…yep, right out of the jar!
5. Sitting down with a Chai Tea Latte and time to actually drink it.
6. Feeling the breeze on my face when it’s cool but not cold and the sun is warm on my skin.
7. Hearing Abby laugh or giggle and seeing her little face all scrunched up and totally adorable.
8. Sliding into Clayton’s arms when I’m having a rough time. He is my rock.
9. Having my mom brush my hair with her fingers. I may be like 10 inches taller than her but if I sit next to her on the couch, she will pull me into her for a hug and stroke my hair…I feel so relaxed, like a child again.
10. Laying on the bed and my cat comes up the bed. I put out my arm, he lays down right in the crook of my armpit and body and just purrs, licks my fingers and my nose and I lay my hand on his back and feel his soft warm fur beneath my fingers…it’s like therapy.
11. When I’m sick and Owen comes and sleeps on the bed with me all day…even though he usually lays on the chair downstairs during the day. I call him Nurse Owen for taking care of me!

That's all I have right now, but whenever I think of something else, I will add it...

The weird "movie" dream I had last night...

So last night (or very early this morning), I had this very consuming "movie" dream. I have these every once in a while, where I have a dream that is like a movie...I usually wake up exhausted (well, when you direct, produce and act in a movie all night...you usually do feel pretty wiped out eh?)
So anyway, here's the dream...I apologize if it makes no sense at all...but then again, maybe I should pitch it...hmmm...
I am at this museum like place, where I go through a number of exhibits (like the cloth found from Henry VIII, etc). Then I fall down this tunnel and end up in a room surrounded by other people who also fell down this tunnel. We climb up a stupid wall of shelves holding movies (irony?) and I finally reach this latch and open it up to find a slat no bigger than a business card...this is how we're supposed to be rescued. So this guy next to me gives me his business card and I stick it in (ripping it in the process, so good luck reading THAT) and we all fell off the wall. We were now stuck in this room, only one room away from this insanely vicious massive cannibal dog (thank goodness I don't watch horror movies cause every time he "caught" one, I would turn away so I never saw ANYTHING...whew!
So we were completely trapped here. Then suddenly, this guy walked through with a baby and the dog left him alone. He came into the room and we were all like "how did you do that?" Apparently, the dog won't touch anyone holding a baby. We end up getting out this side entrance into this house and look outside where there are literally hundreds of tornados and crazy lightning happening...so we're basically sitting ducks. We managed to get into another house (raiding their house for food cause we were starving) and avoiding the tornados. Now we just have to figure out how to get through that room with the dog without being killed. We come across this woman with a baby and decide to plan an escape to use the baby to get each one of us out. Then, it turns out that this whole destruction and evil dog is a plot by none other than Morgan Freeman (dude, I'm sorry, in my dream, you are evil!). One by one, we get killed by this dog and are no closer to escaping and we are now being hunted by more dogs (they are breeding these cannibal dogs to hunt us) and we're moving from house to house, hiding and trying to find a way to get home.
In the meantime, this family living in South Central LA (and no, I've never been there but apparently, I know all about it) works to escape these killer tornados taking over LA. They have to make it to this bridge (Golden Gate-my brain is apparently geographically confused too!) in this tiny little car.
I wish I could say that I "solved" the dream and saved the day for all these people but then my alarm woke me up and it's 10 a.m. and the dream is still sitting in my brain...and you wonder why I'm in therapy?? LOL If you figure out the ending, let me know!!

You know you're a Mommy of a toddler/baby when...

I realize that yes, I am a Mommy, but it's always funny when you take a step back and realize how your life has changed so much since having your first child...here are some examples:
* You open up your purse at work and out tumbles a red crayon and/or other things that you did NOT put in there...and you're NOT shocked;
* Your friend calls you and tells you that when your purses were side by side, your child put your stuff in her purse and now she has your gum, lipgloss and hair brush;
* You look in your backseat and wish you had a dog to clean up all the Goldfish, cookie and bits of food taking up permanent residence back there;
* You reach under your seat and find an old bottle under there...which you immediately have to throw out because the thought of cleaning it disgusts you;
* Your daughter is wearing the cutest little dress, with adorable little shoes, with perfect pigtails and you realize that you are in a tank top, shorts, flip flops, with a ponytail that hasn't been brushed yet and no makeup on...you pray for no "family" pictures;
* You now know all the words to their favourite movie/movies and sing the songs in your sleep, while driving to work, while washing dishes, while having...ok, never mind...
* When you go out with your hubby on a date and you get all dressed up, that's the ONLY time your kid says "Mommy pretty!";
* You get to work and wash your travel mug...as well as the bottle your child left in the car...;
* You haven't watched a movie with REAL people in a long time;
* You have favourite brands of kids' clothes and toys but have no clue what's currently in fashion (ie: I had never heard of Bench until April in Moncton with my sister or New Balance sneakers until I bought a pair)

Time for detox...

Well, tomorrow the vacation starts...and until I arrive there, I will be totally stressed and anxious...I have so much floating around in my head, it's a wonder I can even do anything! I just have to get through the rest of this day (come on, I want to GO!!), then I plan on having a nap (or I will be asleep tonight by 9) and then clean, laundry, pack and organize. I have so many things to think of. I just keep thinking, "must be nice to be Clayton"...he just grabs his bag, throws some clothes in it...no real thought process and leaves". Me? I have to make my million lists, go room by room and grab everything I need, clean, organize, do laundry, clean out garbage cans, clean out fridge, pack stuff for me, for the bathroom, the kitchen, food, towels, bedding, Abby's stuff (she'll be with us from Tuesday afternoon to Wednesday afternoon) and Owen's stuff to go to my parents. I only relax once I'm there and unpacked...man, I cannot WAIT!
So, here's the schedule: Clayton and I arrive Saturday, sans Abby for a few days of alone time (otherwise known as pre baby time), then my parents are bringing her up with them for the day for beach (weather permitting) and such and then they leave and Clayton and I have her for the night. Then, Clayton and Abby leave Wednesday and my best friend Niki shows up Wednesday later on. Then, until Saturday, it's me and my BFF having kid free and spouse free time. Beach, sun, sand, shopping (sssh..don't tell...) and sleep...yes, naps are definitely on the agenda! A week of no worrying, reading (what the heck is THAT?), vegging, watching movies, playing games (does King's work with only 2 people? Oh and how the hell do you play Crazy 8's again?)...just get me through the next 24 hours please!!?

Sudoku...the eternal puzzler for my brain

So for the last several months, I have been addicted to Sudoku. I had never tried it but always saw it in the newspapers and wanted to try it. One time I did, but screwed it up so badly that I just tossed it. But finally, I got one, and ok, it took me a week (working on it at my lunchtime and time breaks) but I did it...then I was hooked. In the last couple weeks, I have been hoarding a few and working on them...they are full of scribbles and numbers everywhere. For someone who is distinctly more of a word geek than a numbers geek, this is a huge accomplishment. My husband will tell you (once he finishes laughing) how bad I am at math. I dread the day that Abby comes to me for math help...she's screwed! Luckily, where I fail, Clayton succeeds. And where he fails (spelling and writing), I kick butt. As long as we can hack it out together, we're perfect. But back to Sudoku, I am obsessed with finishing these little scraps of newsprint. I carry them with me everywhere. I stare at them until my eyes are almost closed. They frustrate me to no end (especially the expert ones) but I refuse to get rid of them. I'm determined to finish them. Finally, yesterday, I finished one and today I finished another one during my lunch. Does that make me feel better? Nope, cause now I'm eager to get back to the other ones and kick their butts too. I'm almost tempted to take pictures and post them...but nah...I gotta finish them though. Oh and I have a book of Sudoku puzzles and not one, but TWO IPad Sudoku apps...yep, I'm hooked...now, where did I put my pencil, pen and puzzle???

I may be getting better at this working out

So before my drunken debauchery Saturday night, I went to the gym and did a Stretch and Tone class. I was nervous after that last "Body Blast" class left me in agony for the rest of the week...I know I know...wah wah wah...but when you have to go up a long flight of stairs at least two to three times a day, chase after and pick up a heavy 25+ toddler, being in pain WHILE doing this is not what I want. I mean, I want to tone and stop the jiggles (not to be confused with my giggles!), but I still need to be a mom and keep my job! Anyway, I decided to hit up this Saturday morning class. Surprisingly, I like working out Saturday mornings (as long as I don't have to get up too early). It's a great way to start the day without being too much to handle and then the rest of the day is open. Again, I reached out to my posse of interested friends to see who would nibble on the bait to keep me company and with a little convincing and an hour of free babysitting by my hubby, Kelly agreed to come and work out. Luckily, her little one, Becker, is pretty much like Abby in that he's really easy to hang out with and take care of. And he and Abby adore each other! So I didn't have to twist Clayton's TOO badly. We got to the class and immediately gathered our supplies. Wow, there was a lot. The half ball (flat on bottom, round on top...kind of like a boob!), the long stretchy band thingy, the mat, the squishy ring...I only knew the mat, so this would be fun. The class was great. We stretched, we toned and the exercises weren't killing me. The half ball thing was weird though...I'm sure it's good but me trying to balance on a round object? Yeah, I weebled, I wobbled and occasionally waved like a madman. Did I fall? I know you're all thinking it. And I will answer that with a resounding...hey look over there, it's Brad Pitt naked riding a motorcycle!! OMG, did you SEE that? Wow...so anyway, the class was fun!
However, I nearly killed myself laughing when, while down on the mat doing leg lifts, I could read the half ball thing and it said "Make sure you have ample room around you in case you fall." Gee, did the person who created this thing meet me first?
After the Body Blast class, I could have fallen asleep standing up. It killed me, backed up, ran me over and then jumped up and down on top of me. This class? It energized me. I felt great. I felt motivated...and no I didn't take a nap...right away...
Both Kelly and I felt good and can't wait to do the class again this Saturday morning. Clayton is good to watch Becker and Abby for an hour, we get to get in a great exercise and feel fabulous after! And the great thing about this class? I was sore after but not god awfully so. But I definitely felt like I was working hard at the class, just not ripping my limbs off my body. I might even do that Body Blast class again...maybe next month...

Had a breakdown last night

After my drunken debauchery post, I was remembering what I did last night and it was a whole other set of emotions. We were watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition the season finale (which was for Mother's Day) and yes, I know the show can be pretty mushy but I'm a tough cookie (ok, who am I kidding? But I can usually hold it together past a few misty eyed moments). But this episode was about a volleyball coach who took in one of her players and her two sisters because both of their parents died from drug overdoses. They had cameras recording people thanking their moms and this one came on and said that ever since she became a step mom, she knew what it was like to let a child that wasn't born of you into your heart. Then she said "It doesn't matter if they were born yours or not, they will always be your child." I totally caved. Right from the get go, I gave my heart to Bella and loved her and what that woman said was absolutely the truth. She is my child. Whether she was born my child or not, I have been a parent to her. I jumped in with everything I had. Bella may have rejected me but I will NEVER stop loving her and she will always be my child...I never meant to lose it over a simple sentence, but thankfully Clayton came over and held me. It's hard for both of us, but definitely harder when something brings up the emotion so hard. Despite what people say about time healing the broken heart...I feel like time is only making the ache worse...but I will continue to love her no matter how long she is gone...

Ain't going home till I shake my tailfeather...and dance on the bar...

Well, the plan was originally to hit up Dirty Dogs bar in Hamilton and ride the mechanical bull, dance on the bar and get hit on. We pre-drank...mostly cause we're all broke and trying to maximize our party experience (cause we don't do it often...the last time I got out to dance/drink, was March). We trooped to Dirty Dogs and not only was the mechanical bull out of commission (aw man!), but it was dead in there...I mean DEAD! Like when we left, it was the bartenders and the bouncer...yeah, and it was 12 a.m. I think the mechanical bull killed the party mood for sure.
But before we called it quits there, we did get up on the bar and shook our asses. I personally loved that they had a bar above your head firmly in place to hold onto (for dear life, cause I am SUCH a klutz!) and to allow you the freedom to shake your ass without ending up as a front row pancake. And yes, the super klutz wore flats! And jeans! Then we hit the pole...well, not HIT it...but we wrapped ourselves around it and made asses out of ourselves. Yep, kind of glad we were the only crew there...and no one took video...but after trying to liven up the joint, Danee (the birthday girl and the reason we were out partying in the first place) decided we needed to try out Liquid Kitty (and I swear I'm not making that name up...the upstairs bar is called Tailgate Charlie's but the downstairs bar is Liquid Kitty...yeah, I don't know...) but immediately, it was way better. Good live band music (playing everything from Lady Gaga to Black Eyed Peas to well, something else...I was a little intoxicated) and then during breaks, pumping dance music to shake our asses too. I found out that yes, apparently I AM a cougar...but I was assured by a random cute guy that I was a hot cougar...so that felt pretty damn good...until I went inside and my husband was not only dancing but grinding with all my friends...while their boyfriend/hubby were right there...yep, he was just a wee bit intoxicated himself! But it was all good. We drank, danced, drank, danced and had a riot...but I still have a date with that mechanical bull. I'm getting old and if I'm going to get tossed by a bull, it's not going to be after 40...so Dirty Dogs, I WILL be back...plus the bouncer was pretty cute...hmmm...maybe leave the hubby at home...tee hee...I'll be good...maybe...maybe I should leave the camera at home too...hmmm....

Unearthing the junk

Since my therapy session on Monday, I've been feeling happy that I'm finally doing something about my issues. But the one thing that hovers in my thoughts is the situation with Bella. For those of you that don't know, (and sorry if you do...you're getting it again) here's the back story. I met Clayton in 2000. When I met him, I didn't know he had a child but he soon told me that he and his ex had a baby together but that he found out it wasn't his. I said ok and understood why he left her and the baby. In 2001, after we went to NB for the first time together, he told me that he was scared to tell me the truth because he thought I'd leave him and fessed up that the baby WAS his but that because he was so young and the relationship with his ex was so toxic, his parents took him out of the situation and he hadn't seen his daughter since (at the time, she would have been 3). I forgave him and he told me that he had been thinking about her and wanting to be back in her life now that he was older and finished school and had a job but he was unsure of whether he should or not. I told him that I would fully support him and be as little or as much involved as he wanted me to. But that I would only support him if he stayed in her life, no going in and going out. This was due to the fact that even though my dad was there in my life growing up, he was never THERE. He showed up for special occasions and the occasional visit but we never saw him regularly. He was too busy working and I couldn't be with someone who did the same. He said he understood and then began the process with his lawyer to get back in touch with his ex. It took a while to track her down and make the initial conversations but his ex agreed to allow him back in her life and he would start paying her child support. Then the visits started. It began with a short visit at the mall with his ex and Bella (who by now was 4 1/2) and didn't include me (which was completely fine). Then, we were cleared for a visit with both of us. I was ok with waiting until their relationship was further along but he insisted. Since we were still living with our parents at the time, it meant being at my parent's place. I got to meet her for the first time and immediately fell in love with her sweetness and adorable nature. She warmed up to me instantly (plus it helps that I have a way with kids) but it took a while to get the relationship going between her and Clayton. She eventually had sleepovers and finally moved up to visits every other weekend and a Thursday night visit. I became her surrogate mom away from home. I gave her time and space to be with her dad and did everything I could to nurture that relationship and helping Clayton to be a better dad, while also building my own relationship with her. I talked to her mom to make sure I was following along with what she wanted and always was careful to not step on her or Clayton's toes and help them. I bought her bedding, clothes, toys and welcomed her in my life with open arms. I never looked back on my carefree non-child life. If she was sick, I comforted her. We read stories, went shopping, danced, had lemonade stands, singed, watched movies, played dress up, went ice skating, went hiking, went sledding. When we were going to New Brunswick for two weeks, she came with us. Vacation time was no longer what Clayton and I would do but what we would do with Bella. Camping, swimming, day trips, hanging out, etc. There was NOTHING I wouldn't have done for her.
But in the past couple of years, things started changing. First, her mom got pregnant (she had been with the same guy for almost as long as Clayton and I had been together). She was excited about the new sibling but fearful because she was losing her only child and centre of attention status. It was an adjustment but we all pulled together and helped her to prepare for being a big sister and she was great at it. I took pride in the fact that all four of us were raising this little girl together (me, Clayton, her mom and her mom's live-in boyfriend). Then, Clayton and I got married around the same time. She was very happy with me being her "official" step mom and I made sure she was part of the ceremony and let her know that I was marrying Daddy and her because I was officially becoming part of THEIR family. She was a junior bridesmaid, shared a special dance with Clayton, was present at the bridal shower (we made sure we held it on a weekend we had her) and even signed the register (she declined being part of the ceremony though cause she was too nervous to have everyone looking at her). Everything felt good. Then, her mom decided to get married. We also were pregnant with Abby at the time and though Bella said she was happy to finally have a sister, we knew it would be a big adjustment because it meant the dynamic when she visited would be different and talked to her about it and how we would do whatever we could to help her deal with it. She seemed fine with that. But truthfully, she seemed to always be more excited about news dealing with her mom than ours. When we were getting married, she was more excited about her new baby brother coming. When I was pregnant, she was more excited about her mom's wedding. And for the record, we did NOT plan to do these at the same time as their events, it just happened that way!
Then, Bella wanted to change her last name. All this time, she had gone by both her Mom's and Clayton's last name, but now she wanted to drop both and just go simply by her new stepfather's name (which would also be her mom's name and her brother's). We fought it because we didn't agree that she should be allowed to change her name until she was 18, but her mom fought us back, telling us that it was Bella's decision to make and that we should respect her decision and SHE supported her. It was us against them and it was tearing Clayton and I up. We fought it for as long as we could but his ex kept telling us that it was Bella's decision to make and not ours. He hated doing it but feared of losing his connection with Bella and finally agreed to signing the papers to allow her to change her name. With her mom not supporting us, what could we do? We thought things would get back to normal after that, however it just seemed to keep getting worse between us and Bella and her mom. Suddenly, we started getting calls that Bella was unhappy with something we had said over the weekend. We talked about everything and hashed stuff out but it didn't stop it from happening again. We became terrified of every weekend we had her and saying anything to her, for fear that it would come back in a negative way after the weekend was over (Bella would never say anything while she was with us). I tried to avoid saying anything to her that could be misconstrued. I was told by her mom to stay out of conversations with Bella because she feared I would "be mean to her", which I would never do so it hurt me that she felt like that about me. But I stayed out of it for her sake.
Then, Abby was born. It started off good. Bella insisted that we come get her immediately when Abby was born. She wanted to help choose a name. She picked out a present for her. However, we weren't allowed to pick her up when Abby was born. We wanted to, but we were told it wasn't a good time. We just figured we'd have her soon and it wouldn't matter. The first time we had Bella after Abby was born, she hovered over Abby's crib, waiting for her to wake up so she could hold her. She even dressed her in her Cabbage Patch Doll dresses (yep, Abby was that tiny!) But even though everyone was excited about Abby, everyone in both our families still made sure to give Bella extra attention, including us. We took her to the movies, we went shopping (without Abby), we watched movies after Abby went to bed, she had sleepovers with friends...but despite all this, we still got calls and Bella still had issues with something that had happened or was said. Last summer, after us having her for a whole week, we got the phone call with her mom angry that I had told Bella to call me mom and that we and my family were treating her like a little kid. I was stunned because I would NEVER ask Bella to call me mom and we did everything to give Bella independence but still, she was only 12. She stayed up later when she stayed with us because it was the weekends, she had a computer (mine but she could use it) in her room, a TV (again, not bought for her but in her room for her to watch movies and TV) and had many clothes in the closet she had bought for herself with money she had earned by doing chores or from birthday or other holidays. She had independence when she was with us. I didn't ask her often to watch Abby (only if Clayton was out and I needed to shower) and never thrust Abby on her...especially since her mom was pregnant again, so in addition to the brother she already had, her mom also operated a day care in her home, so Bella was ALWAYS surrounded by kids. I aimed to give her a break from those responsibilities on our weekends with her. She could sleep in, go read in her room (which had been decorated with her choices) or do whatever. So we were baffled. This had come out of nowhere and the whole time Bella was with us, she was fine. She never said anything that could have tipped us off. So where was this coming from?
I told her mom that I never told Bella that but she insisted and told us that we were lying and she believed Bella. She then told me to back off and to deal with my husband and she'd deal with HER daughter. I was shut out. Clayton was torn between anger at her mom for seemingly manipulating his daughter into feeling this way about us and not even trying to see our side of it and being scared he would lose his daughter. We thought if we played nice and did what she asked, she would help Bella get through this and we'd be together soon and everything would be fine.
She suggested Bella not visiting us for a little while while Bella did therapy. We were fine with this because we were told it would only be a little while. But seeing as this happening two weeks before Abby's first birthday, I suspected more. Where did this come from? Was it Bella manipulating all of us? Was it her mom playing the cards for many years, seeping poisoned thoughts into Bella's head without anyone noticing and it finally worked? Was it us not doing enough or doing too much? Was it me being too involved when I should have stood back? I was tormented by thoughts...it wrecked me. Every time I tried to talk to Clayton, he would just get more and more upset and said he didn't want to talk about it over and over again when it was clear that nothing he did was working or could change the situation.
I suggested that he go up to Guelph (where she lives) to visit her and I would stay behind with Abby. Heck I told him that if I were the problem, I'd go to my parent's house for the weekend and Bella could just see him and Abby or I could take Abby with me. Whatever it took. But no...she didn't want that. She wanted a break.
Clayton kept reaching out, calling and emailing Bella but never heard anything back. He was told (by his ex in emails cause she wouldn't call him back) that Bella wouldn't read the emails and deleted them and wouldn't talk to him on the phone. He was angry, frustrated and tired of dealing with it. But he has kept all emails he's sent so if, for any reason, Bella comes to him and says he gave up on her, he can prove that he never stopped trying.
It's almost been a year now since we've seen her and nothing has changed. Not only has she cut us off, but also all my family and all of Clayton's family...and even her own family (her mom's dad was a friend of Clayton's dad and even they don't see Bella anymore and have no idea what is happening). Like we never existed. Like we haven't been there for the last 8 years. I see pictures of her, the smiles, the jokes, the laughter, the "I love you's" and it's like my dad all over again. My therapist says that the incomplete, broken way things ended with Bella have ripped open those old wounds from growing up with an absent dad...another rejection...another loss...and no way to fix it. It aches...it burns...and I can't for the life of me understand why it happened. How do you take a happy, sweet little girl and turn her into a manipulative miserable pre-teen who hates her own family who have always been there and loved her? I was raised that if you are mad at someone, you talk to them. You deal with it. Bella is obviously not being raised the same way. Instead, if it's hard, just leave. Just don't try. Give up. So how do we deal when it's clearly wrecking us, our relationship with each other and our memories of Bella in our lives? We cling to Abby like a buoy. We kiss her endlessly, share our joy over every "love ew" and "mama", "daddy" "aw man" and kisses and hugs Abby gives out regularly. I grieve that Bella isn't here, isn't seeing Abby. Abby used to light up when Bella was there...god, she loved her so much. All we can do is wait...it feels like it's been years not seeing her. With every occasion (pumpkin carving, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Easter, Father's Day, Bella's birthday), it's like the wound opens again as we try to get through and NOT think about her. As Abby becomes more and more verbal and intuitive about her world, I only pray that Bella comes back and everything can be fixed. And I will never allow Abby to do anything like this to her family. It's not just about Bella...it's about all of us. She hurt us more than she knows and how can we ever fix this?

Is therapy therapeutic?

So I did my first session of therapy last night...yes, I'm admitting I'm all messed up in the brain...deal with it...since the going back to work and abandoning my child (I know I'm really not, but you know how it feels like) and the loss of Bella in our lives happening at the same time, it's triggered an emotional "crumbling"...if you will...so needless to say, I've been off my game for quite a while.
Anyway, after seeing my doctor and her suggesting I try therapy, I went to my first session last night. First off, I was nervous...I kept thinking "What if I open something that won't go back in? What if this fucks up my life MORE? Or ruins my marriage? Or reduces me to a slippery puddle of emotional goo that can't function in normal society anymore?" I walked into the office and waited until I saw "THE THERAPIST." I had no clue what she would look like or even be like. What if I said "Hi!" and she says "Wow, you're messed up!" I met her (short, warm friendly face, short hair, kind of looked like an aunt would) and we sat in her office. I had the option of a chair or "the couch." Not gonna lie, the couch scared me. I thought "Do I have to lay down on it?" "Why do people want to lay down and talk?" I overthink clearly too much! But since the chair had too much direct sunlight, I chose comfy couch over wearing sunglasses for my appointment. First off, I looked at her waiting for her to make the first move...what the hell do I say? Do I go chronologically? By most recent? Do I just spin a wheel and pick a time? Luckily, she understands that not everyone knows why or what they are doing and she asked me questions. And since we all know I'm a chatterbox (shut up...no comments people!), I was able to talk...I was all over the place...I even managed to put in my own theories on what I had (damn reporter in me has to investigate and figure stuff out). I'm not going into details...I'm really not that exciting, let's face it, but overall, I was crazy agitated after. I was trying to calm myself down when she said "It's normal to be all worked up and agitated after talking. So go home and do some exercise, vacuum or just cuddle with your daughter and let it out." I was relieved to hear that it was ok to be all jumbled up. I drove home (taking the scenic back route...I kind of miss that drive from Beamsville to Grimsby) and came home to a enthusiastic toddler, a wonderful husband and an lovey dovey cat. I know I'm not a lost cause and I have so much to be grateful for. I hope this therapy helps me to learn how to cope and appreciate the stuff I have better. And for the record, my bathtub is all sparkling clean...

A downslide...

Well, I knew it would be hard and I know I'm not giving up...but after a kick ass Tuesday class, Wednesday and Thursday were pretty much useless. I did squat...no, I mean nothing. Wednesday, I had a work barbecue and by the time we got home, got Abby to bed, I was ready to go to bed myself. Thursday, I was all set to kill myself (and by then, my muscles, which were only aching on Wednesday, were now in agony pain!) at another class that night. But then, it wasn't going to work out for my friend because she had no one to watch her kid, so we decided to take the kids down to the lake and walk. Exercise and kid time, bonus! But then her son had a major bad episode and that idea went down the crapshoot. By now, all my motivation was gone...I mentioned that I needed a workout partner to keep me going! I managed to talk my husband into coming with me to the downtown farmer's market and a store I needed to return shorts for Abby anyway. Except that when we got there, the market was shutting down. So we went into the store, I was looking for replacements for the shorts and Abby was driving my husband (who had a migraine) nuts by running around. So, the joy of getting out was short lived. My night was done. Am I frustrated with myself? Probably but I was too sore to care last night. And tonight, Friday night...I'm wondering how I can do anything. I was hoping to do a class tomorrow but without my husband able to watch our daughter, I can't go. It's irritating but I'm not giving up. I have to make this work. I just haven't figured out all the ins and outs of it yet. And right now, working out isn't my only challenge. When I get down...really down...I don't recover well. I eat junk and throw myself into bed and we all know how good that makes you feel! But it's not making progress. But I will keep trying. Wish me luck...I'm hoping for another class this weekend and motivation to do something else.