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Savor the moments Photo credit: Thomas Bogner When I was a young mother, I remember telling myself to savor the moments - at least when I had the time to think about it.  Like most new mothers I was sleep deprived and overwhelmed with the responsibility of the new baby. Some days just getting in the shower was an accomplishment. Other days I dug deep and tried not to accidently kill anyone. Add having to go back to work and a meltdown seemed inevitable. Finding my way through that particular work/life 'balance' (balance? ha!!) I was frequently torn by the two competing worlds and usually felt that I was failing in both. Inadequacy was a constant emotion, and I considered quitting my job (which I loved) just to manage all the stuff at home. And it only got worse when our second child arrived. But I was one of the lucky ones: I had a husband who took over most of the cooking and grocery shopping.  And then we found magical Paulette who helped us raise our two little ones. W...
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Now I lay me down to sleep... I can't stop thinking about this latest debacle in Washington. It's extremely unsettling. It feels like the grown- ups are on an extended vacation, and they didn't even bother to lock the door after they left... let alone think to hire a babysitter.  America is cowering under the covers wishing mom and dad were actually its friend's parents who live up the street... rather than the idiots we got. All we can do is pray that everything will turn out alright.  Tonight my prayer: Dear Prime Minister Mark Carney, Would you and your very accomplished spouse consider being our parents for the next 4 years? Maybe start adoption proceedings tomorrow? I think America would make a really nice 11th province or perhaps another territory. We already love your citizens, your beer, your comedians, hockey, your exported musicians, butter tarts, peameal bacon and CBC news. If we promise to say 'sorry' more often and to keep our voices lower in Tim H...
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Un-naturalization* I grew up in Canada where I had a pretty blissful life. At the age of 23 I followed my parents to the US and settled in Buffalo, New York.  I have had a wonderful and fulfilling life here and I cannot say enough about the people that live in my community. Up until recently I've only felt conflicted about my nationality loyalty during the Winter Olympics or perhaps a Sabres/Maple Leaf hockey game. But, since the administration changed** in the White House this year, I am having serious doubts about whether I threw my lot in with the right country.  Moving back to Canada is fraught with issues because most of my family live here in the states (including my new granddaughter) and I could never leave them.  Plus, I'm not sure if, in the process of leaving the US, I would automatically become 'un-naturalized' - which sounds really creepy and kind of like an episode of Severance .  Although, I'm not sure if I'd want my severed Innie to live in the ...
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Milestones

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When my first child was born, I was not well versed in child rearing. I had done some babysitting in my past (my Aunt Janet blithely trusted me with her offspring), but I really didn't have a clue. However, once I realized I was going to be someone's mum, I wanted to do it right.  As luck would have it, Bill and I stayed with my parents for the first 6 weeks of our daughter, Emma's life. We leaned on my mum and dad heavily for support. After that stint, Bill and I were largely on our own.  We stumbled along and, in the process, found out that we had similar ideas when it came to parenthood.  We both really wanted our kids to actually like us - not just love us.    So, we spent a lot of time together as a family and we made it a point to travel as much as we could. That way we could experience new countries, new food, new cultures, and people together as a unit. And, we had a blast.  Don't get me wrong, we also fought like crazed animals, too. Too much toget...
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Back at it

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Like millions of Americans, I suffer from lower back problems. Over the last 10-15 years the issues in my back have progressed... mostly because I have chosen to largely ignore the 'twinges' and carry on. Bill thinks I'm very stubborn. I prefer to think of myself as 'determined'.  I just like to get things done and I never expect others to help, and I hate asking for help even more. I figure if it's my problem/project, I'll do it.  Maybe it's because I grew up on a farm where everyone was expected to pull his/her weight. Whether it was lifting bales or mucking out stalls, climbing ladders or fixing fences, I never assumed someone stronger was going to help me.  Plus, my 5'2" and 100 pounds mother was the perfect role model of self-sufficiency. If something had to be done, she'd be in the thick of it (with her wig firmly affixed and her pink lipstick perfectly applied). I took my cue from her (minus the hair and makeup).  So despite a problem...
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Part 6 : Tripping...

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When I get anxious or nervous, all the saliva leaves my mouth. I crave water. The day we left for the airport, I drank a lot of water. Even though Mum was still talking to non-existent people, and didn't really have a grip on what was happening, Kevin and I made the decision to get on the plane and just get it over with. What difference would another day make, and how much trouble can a 100 pound, 4'8" woman make? Sharing a bed again with her while she socialized with her imaginary friends didn't allow for much sleep. At 8 a.m. I gave up and got out of bed to make coffee. Mum got up  as well and seemed fresh as a daisy. How? I have no idea. Luckily, I had packed everything the night before, so there was very little for me to actually do. I could be brain dead and it didn't really matter. Kevin took over. He hauled all the luggage into his car, buckled mum into the back seat, installed me in the passenger side and we headed for Tampa. As I looked in the side view mi...
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Part 5 - Preparation

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Before I flew back down to Florida to pack up mum, I had 2 days to get her new apartment furnished. Although she would spend at least a week with me at our house (and theoretically we could shop for furniture together), I knew that her reduced level of functionality would make that impossible. I was going to have to do this without her.    Fortunately, I had access to the best no-nonsense/ 'get 'er done' shopper: my daughter Emma.  She met me after work, and, in less than 2 hours we bought a bedroom set, mattress, loveseat, cushions, bookshelf, mirror and console.While we were there, Emma texted Will (our son/her brother) and told him to research tvs - the kind they make for old ladies - with simple controls. She gave him the measurements of the console. Will was on it. Because Emma is tiny like mum, she tested each piece of furniture. She was very particular about the seat depth of the couch (if it's too deep, their short legs won't let their feet touch the ground)...
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