The journey between here and there

July 1, 2005 Friday

With all the almost unbearable rain we have been getting in June the mosquitoes have come out in full force. They are everywhere and hungry for blood. My blood! I’m scratching like a rabid dog with fleas. Even with bug repellant I think they stole a quart of blood and I have mosquito welts anywhere my skin was showing… Stupid me for wearing a small t-shirt and low-rise Capri’s. I should have worn one of those space suits that cover every inch of your body. It didn’t help that the parade route was by the river so it was like we were walking right into their nesting ground.

I swear I hope birds are going crazy doing the nasty so they start producing lots of lil’ birdies to eat all these freakn’ bugs. I hate mosquitoes. Now I’m all paranoid that I’m going to get West Nile. I’m such a hypochondriac, but seriously… you never know. I gotta watch out for signs. I better go take my temperature…

I slept in so we didn’t get up until 5:50am. We didn’t leave the house till 7:00am. Breakfast already started in Drumheller. Ryan assures me he can make it in an hour and 1/2 instead of 2 hours. We’ll make it to the free breakfast of oj, pancakes and ham. We jump into the truck and off we go. The kids slept most of the way and I, being stupid as always, decided to paint my toe nails in the truck on the way there… I have these cute red Old Navy flip flops with a diamond heart and red bow. I have nail polish to match perfectly. So instead of doing my nails yesterday, no! heaven forbid I procrastinate it until this very morning. Let’s just say the road out to Drumheller is not the smoothest or the straightest. I felt like I was blind, drunk Helen Keller painting my toes. *sigh*

Had breakfast. Delicious. Got ripped off. I had to pay a $1 for each of my kids to let them have balloon hats made by some clown… what a waste, cuz 2 minutes after getting his twisty balloon hat Josh says, “Hey! You wanna hear a balloon fart?” He pops his… “My balloon farted!” He laughs hysterically… and there went a dollar.

The parade was lots of fun. The kids got lots of candy, they had fun waving at the floats and being sprayed by water guns. After we went to Coop to get hot dogs, watermelon and a juice box. I was once again reminded that yep, I still do hate hot dogs. We went to the World’s Largest Dinosaur and the dinosaur water park was lots of fun. The kids ran around and sprayed each other with the water guns.

Ryan and Guy went to watch people bridge jumping. Guy dared this man that he met over there to jump off the bridge for $10. The man jumped in with jeans on. This water is just gross! It is all dirty and full of silt from the floods. It’s just a very muddy river. Ryan and Guy come back all proud of themselves and laughing at the sight of the guys facial expression when he hit the cold revolting water. I was annoyed that they didn’t tell me cuz I wanted to see that!

When Jayna found out he gave the man $10 to jump in the water she just stares at him pissed… It was so funny to see her expression. If looks could kill he’d be a dead man. She started ripping into him, “Why do you always have to spend every last cent that’s in your pocket??? blah, blah, blah…. I’m just laughing cuz Jayna is the most quiet thing and doesn’t say much, but now she’s so mad cuz he spent the money uselessly.

Guy looks at me for backup. “Wouldn’t you pay $10 to see some guy jump off a bridge?”
“No! I’m not stupid! What idiot would pay to watch that?…. oh ya.. you did.” I retort.
I had to back up Jayna at that moment….don’t want to make the woman mad at me for agreeing with him.

We stayed there for a couple of hours then headed off to the reptile museum. It was awesome! I got to hold Brittany the boa constrictor. Yikes… well, I didn’t hold it, I just let them wrap the snake around my neck and quickly had a picture taken. It took everything I had not to run around screaming… snakes are meant to be seen behind glass… thick glass. The snake that the chick on the web page is the holding is a smaller version of the snake I held… Brittany the boa must have been eating lots of small children, cuz this thing was huge. All my kids had the snake wrapped around their necks. The boys thought it was pretty cool. The girls.. not so much. Brandon kept freaking the care taker out cuz he kept trying to grab its flickering tongue. Yikes, I quickly put a stop to that.

Ryan tells me he wants to show me this road with a 100 bridges… so we go. It’s a windy road, with amazing hoodoo’s that surround it, but there were only 10.
“100… 10… it’s all relative.. it seems like 100 though, ” he says.
riiiiight.

Well, on our way back there’s this sign that says and I kid you not! “Village of Idiots 5 km.”
“Did you see that sign?” I ask Ryan, of course he hadn’t because he’s the most unobservant person I know. I thought maybe I was mistaken, but sure enough… 5 km later another sign:
“Village of Idiots (with an arrow pointing south)
Rosedale 8km.”
It was too funny. I wanted to take a picture of it, but Ryan of course wouldn’t stop. It was such a funny sign though, the highlight of my day. *sigh* so this must be where all the idiots originate from, no wonder there are so many close to where I live. They breed them in that town I guess. lol…. now I know where Ryan actually came from.

My dad wasn’t a man of many words. It’s amazing how people touch your life the way they do. He was old 84 when he died. I was 24. My mom was 50. My older brother Hans was 53. (That’s another story for another day. )

But I miss his heavy large hand on my shoulder. His thick German accent, his mutterings that he would mumble under his breath, his small, pale sky blue eyes that were always full of concern and love for me. He didn’t play with me much growing up cuz he was so old I guess, but through small and simple things he showed that he loved me. This is the eulogy I gave at his funeral.

I’d like to share with you memories and things that my father has taught me in my 24 years on earth.

He has given me examples and taught me how to be patient (I’m still working on that one), how to love, how to be committed to the church, to have faith in God, to read my scriptures, to care, to read all the books I could get my hands on, to enjoy nature, to stop talking constantly and listen.

When I think of Pa’s passing I think of all the wonderful memories I have of him. Like when I was little, he would walk me the ½ km to the driveway to meet the bus everyday. In the winter time he would plough a trail for me through the snow and carry my bag as I dawdled, made snow angels and ran behind. By the time I got to the highway he’d be there holding the bus, chatting with the bus driver, Archie. And, at the end of the day when I got home from school he was there at the highway always ready to greet me. We would walk back together as I would tell him about my day, what I learned, the fun I had and what I accomplished at school.

He would always have a small piece of candy for me in the pocket of his faded farm shirt. He enjoyed good food and I was able to experience German cooking, which I love. He taught me about hard work and sacrifice. He taught me to love and care for animals. We walked a lot. We would go for long walks around the farm, exploring the woods and looking at wild animal tracks. I always felt so special when he would drive me to town to get the mail. He introduced me to writing by example and encouraged me to write. Write in my journal, write letters, poetry and just always write down my thoughts.

As a teenager, I will always appreciate how much he respected my privacy. He would always knock on my bedroom door. He never barged in and he would ask if it was OK to come into my room before he stepped in. Sometimes he would ask me to do something or at times he would just come and sit on my bed and ask how I was doing. He was always there to listen. At times we would go through his black and white pictures and tell me stories of when he was a boy… like the time when he and his friends hid in a graveyard at night with white sheets on their head. When the nuns would walk by they would jump out and scare them. Then laugh as the nuns ran screaming, scared out of their wits.

Or the time when he and his buddies pushed the outhouse back, so the hole was in front of the door. They would then hide, waiting and watching for some unsuspecting person to use the outhouse at night. Laughter would ensue once someone did try to go to the bathroom, only to fall into the toilet hole.

He had a great sense of humor. When mom and all her Filipino friends would come over they would all be talking in Filipino. Pa and I could not understand nor speak the language. He would just shake his head, mutter “man oh man oh man, it’s like a bunch of chickens in a hen house, Squawk, squawk, squawk.” To which mom would reply, “Oh, be quiet” Then continue talking. Pa would look at me and raise his eyebrows like “well she told me”, then turn and mutter, “oh no, oh no, oh no” Then Pa and I would go off and watch TV or go outside.

As a war veteran I knew WW2 effected him profoundly. He helped me realize that war should not be glorified like it is on TV or the movies. He did not like to talk about the war and in the rare times when he did his eyes would stare off in the distance, his countenance would be saddened and he would be transported to that dark time in his life. He would tell about the time when he met Hitler during uniform inspection. How much he hated him, but he had to join the army in order to survive. He spoke of the countries he went to, the Russian concentration camps that he stayed in starving and fighting for his life. His amazing escape from prison and how he managed to make it over to Canada to start a new life. The war made a deep impact on his life, he had constant nightmares which occurred every night. In his dreams he would be transported back to the war, where he would either be fighting with someone or running away from the Russians. He always told me to be involved in my world and be aware of what is going on. To know who is in government, to vote, to let your voice be heard and not let evil dictate how the country is to be run.

He loved the farm and loved to take care of the animals. His daily routine around the farm would go something like this: Get up 630ish, go feed the animals, come in, have breakfast, take a nap, wake up, go feed the animals, come in, eat lunch, read a bit, take a nap, wake up, go feed the animals, come in, eat dinner, watch the news, read a bit, go to bed for the night. Same thing day after day. He worked very hard for his family and provided the things we needed to survive.

He cared for us. I guess, I never really clued into that until I had moved out of the house. I was coming home for Mother’s Day and I got into an accident in Red Deer. I was still 5 hours away from home. It was Pa that came to pick me up. He asked if I was OK. I was. Then he looked at the car and just shook his head and muttered, “man, oh man, oh man.” But he never gave me any stress about it. Just said he was glad I was not hurt. Mom of course freaked. I heard about it the whole weekend. How damaged the car was, how much it would cost, how irresponsible I was and on and on.

When I was leaving the house ready to go back to Calgary he said, “Joanne….” I cut him off and said rather annoyed, “I know, I know I know, be careful with the car, the car, the car, the car, I will.” Then he said, “No, I want you to be careful with you. I don’t care about the car, I just care that you are all right. I love you.” I guess it was the first time he ever said anything like that out loud. That is what I really needed to hear at that moment in my life. I cried most of the way back to Calgary.

I guess I’ve been preparing for Pa’s death my whole life. He always looked old and I was just sure that he would die soon when I was about 5. I remember asking my mom, “When Pa dies can we move to the city?” When I was little and had to wake him up from his naps, I’d always creep in and hesitate at the door to listen if he was still breathing, cuz I was always sure that he would die in his sleep. I’m glad he never did die then because I learned to appreciate the quiet, the trees, the clean sweet air, fresh vegetables, the breathtaking twinkling night sky and the majestic northern lights.

When mom called me on Thursday and told me he had passed away, I felt a total sense of peace go through myself. He had Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s, but he was now free from the disease. I was sad that his body would no longer be with us on earth, but at the same time I was so happy for him and almost joyful because I just imagined him meeting his mother, who had died of diabetes when he was a little boy. Meeting his relatives that had passed away before him and all his brothers and sisters. Can you imagine the reunion. Just the JOY and LOVE he must have felt.

He was a good man. He lived a good life. I also think that although it is sad that he is no longer with us, we should celebrate because he has moved on into the next stage in life and the rest of eternity is ahead of him. I’m sure he’ll stop by on us from time to time. He’ll be there to support us, to comfort us and to listen. Probably, while I am driving, he’ll be telling me to slow down, or watch out. All the while shaking his head and muttering, “Man oh man oh man.”

I love my father and I’m proud of him. I’m proud of his accomplishments in life, I’m proud to be his daughter. He has taught me so much that only now I am beginning to see the depth in which he has taught me. I know that I will see him again. I know he will be waiting for me at the end of the road, ready to walk with me and hear about my day. What I did, what I learned, what I accomplished, and how I enjoyed life.

I love you Pa. I’m thinking of you and I miss you.

June 30, 2005 Thursday (the stupid date thing is out of wack and I’m too retarded to figure out how to fix the time stamp. I tried for a couple of hours then gave up.)

I don’t understand the fascination with liquid that seems to take hold upon my kid’s brains… Ryan closed the door to the bedroom as he left this morning so I did not hear the kids when they woke up. I slept in.*sigh* My little TaliBrandon decided my kitchen floors needed watering… with milk. I didn’t even freak out. I should’ve made him clean it up, but I just felt defeated… and it was only 10:00am. Josh has trained his brother in Terrorism 101 and Brandon is cultivating his skill and working wonders in our house everyday.

Josh has broken me in. He has redefined the word terror. I’m sure that if I looked it up there would be a picture of my former 2 year old looking angelic, but smiling as if he was a cat that just ate a canary. Unfortunately for me he inherited my creativity and mischievous behavior. I’ve documented all his mischievous adventures on a calendar, so I’ll have to disclose it here one day. He’s such a funny kid.

He’ll do something like make a funny face or do a crazy dance or open his mouth with his food in it and look at me and say, “Mommy was that funny?”
Usually I tell him yes, but I was tired and a little annoyed so I sighed and said, “no Josh.”
So he’ll do it again, but change it slightly. “ok.. was THAT funny?”
I can’t help but laugh, “yes, you’re very funny!”
He’s all proud of himself and goes off to make someone else smile.

He cracks me up. He is such a comedian. He’s able to make anyone laugh and he loves to make people laugh. He goes out of his way to be crazy and be funny. He’s my clown. I adore him for it. He sees the funniness in everything and he is only 4 now. I can just hear the calls from school telling me that he’s the class clown. Already in Pre-school they tell me he is. I hope his new teacher in the fall at Kindergarten doesn’t mind his sense of humor.

Josh was outside playing when he comes in with wet pants. He had peed himself because he was too busy playing.
“What happened Josh?” I ask.
“Oh mom you won’t believe it!” He tells me all wide-eyed and breathless.
What?
“A dog came up to me, lifted his leg up and peed on me! Isn’t that gross!” His blue eyes intently studying my face for a reaction.
He’s so creative this one… “A dog?” I ask, playing it cool as I arch my eye brow totally not believing his story.
“Ya, the neighbor’s dog! It came over, chased me down and peed on me. That’s why my pants are wet.” He tells this to me with a straight face as if he truly believes it himself.
“You didn’t pee your pants?” I query trying to get him to tell me the truth.
“Nope, it was the neighbor’s dog… that bad dog.”
“Ya know, you’re not going to get in trouble Josh. I just want to know the truth.” I keep probing him.
“Well, maybe it was a little bit me, but mostly it was the dog that peed on me. He just lifted his leg and peed on me right here,” he says pointing to his wet pants.
I try to keep myself from laughing out loud because he is so sensitive. “Well, go change your pants, and go to the bathroom while you’re at it.” The kid is such a nut.

He’s such a good looking kid that I can tell I’m going to be in trouble when he reaches his teens. *sigh* Already he has captured the rapt attention of two adorable little girls. Emily, a quiet, shy girl that has vowed to marry Josh when she gets older. She doesn’t see him much, usually only on Sundays at church or the occasional play-date when Laura has her older sister Rachel over to play. Josh has somehow cast a spell on her, she’s always telling her mother that she loves Josh, thinks he’s handsome and will marry him when he gets older.

Victoria, girl #2 is his best friend. She’s this beautiful blonde, big brown eyed girl with a lot of spunk. If she grows up to be like her mother, she’ll be a smart, drop dead gorgeous girl. A natural beauty. He just adores her and they play so well together. She thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread. She loves it when he tells her jokes and she’ll laugh hysterically at him. He just basks in her attention and her joyous laughter. They get each other souvenirs on holidays and make drawings for each other.

I’m friends with her mother Christina, so they see each other at least once or twice a week for play dates. They’ve been playing together since they were one. They get along very well and the only thing they argue about is marriage. I’ve banned the topic of marriage in my house when the two of them are around. Victoria keeps telling Josh that she will marry him when they are older to which Josh says, “Yuck! I don’t want to get married! I just want to play!” She gets her feelings hurt and he gets so annoyed that she keeps bringing it up and discussing their future plans.

One day when we were going over to Christina’s for dinner I tell Josh to hurry and get dressed so we can leave, “but mommmm, I don’t want to get married to Victoria TODAY!” lol… In order to get him upstairs, I assure him that he doesn’t have to be married today, to which he breathes a sigh of relief.

I keep telling him that he doesn’t have to marry her. That when they get older and he’s 25 he can get married to her if he wants to. He is still upset over that answer, “I just don’t want to get married!” I tell him that’s his decision to make when he’s older, but he may change his mind. To which Victoria hears my remarks and says, “But Joshy HAS to marry ME!” She’s quite the vivacious one. *sigh* Josh is so cute, charming, sweet and funny that I think he’ll break a lot of hearts along the way.

Due to the crazy flooding that the town is under we have a “don’t use the water unless you have to” advisory out or “we’ll spank you for not listening to us.” hmmm… I wonder if it’ll be hard or soft?… anyway… I suppose I’m taking this opportunity to yet again procrastinate the heaps of laundry and dishes that patiently await my attention. *sigh* Think positive: ok… I’m grateful that we are asked to lower our consumption of water, cuz then I can procrastinate a little longer and blame it on the town… lol… I want a maid! I miss having a house cleaner.

It’s Canada Day July 1, tomorrow and we will be heading out with Guy and Jayna to Drumheller. We always have such a blast with them. They are the one couple that we hang out with that we can just let loose, relax, laugh our heads off and enjoy ourselves. There’s no tension and we all get along with each other. Guy is such a comedian that once he starts talking you just laugh until your sides hurt.

Guy looks like Mr. Clean… a French Mr. Clean. He reminds me of my dad, because of his accent and his genuine concern you see in his eyes. Guy and I spar with one another, always trying to one up the other with wit or who can be the craziest. Jayna and Ryan are both the mellow ones watching the silliness that ensue once we get together. They throw their quips in, but it’s just a fun time all around. After, we go home thankful that we are with the spouses we have. Opposites attract for a reason. Ryan has a calming effect on me and I need that in my life.

Well, I can sense the dishes and laundry beckoning to me, so off I go, hi ho, hi ho.

Got this through email and thought they were interesting snippets…

1. I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am with you.
2. No man or woman is worth your tears and the one who is, won’t make you cry.
3. Just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.
4. A true friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart.
5. The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside them knowing you can’t have them.
6. Never frown, even when you are sad, because you never know who is falling in love with your smile.
7. To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the world.
8. Don’t waste your time on a man/woman, who isn’t willing to waste their time on you.
9. Maybe God wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right one, so that when we finally meet the person we will know how to be grateful.
10. Don’t cry because it is over, smile because it happened.
11. There’s always going to be people that hurt you so what you have to do is keep on trusting and just be more careful about who you trust next time around.
12. Make yourself a better person and know how you are before you try and know someone else and expect them to know you.
13. Don’t try so hard, the best things come when you least expect them to.
14. Remember, whatever happens, happens for a reason. Learn from it.

This is my one addiction that I have: Smallville. I love this show. Season 1, 2 and 3 were phenomenal! Season 4 was ok, it only had a few good episodes.

I think the writers were on a lot of drugs or drunk when they wrote most of the episodes because the writing sucked! They were inconsistent, poor scripts with terrible lines. *sigh* I really hope they don’t ruin the show.

I can’t wait until Season 5 starts. The spoilers look good already. I just hope the writers have given themselves a shake and reminded themselves about what the characters have said and did in the Past Seasons. If they screw up Season 5 as badly as 4 I’ll be forced to do something drastic like send them a decomposing fish in the mail telling them they have jumped the shark and they suck. *sigh*

The only reason why I kept watching was cuz of Tom. He is my sexception after all! He’s so amazing! Wow!…and I’m not just talking about the body… although that is a work of art! He is an excellent actor!

I became a Tom Welling fan when I saw that he not only was gorgeous, but he is an incredible actor! I really, really hate bad acting and I hate when you can tell the actor/actress is acting. I was so surprised that even though Tom didn’t have much experience, he was a really good actor. He is so believable and real in playing any role he takes on. He makes it seem so effortless and easy.

The more I learn and read about him, he comes off as intelligent, humble, polite, kind and funny. It’s nice to know that he’s got integrity and character along with the good looks and a gorgeous body. There is nothing more disappointing than when you find out an actor or actress is just such a not-smart. Thankfully Tom has got the whole package.

I think he will become an A-List movie star one day. I seriously wish him the best in his career and I will support his career by going to his movies and watching his shows.

I’d say there were 3 reasons I became a Smallville fan. 1. Tom Welling, 2. Tom Welling, 3. Tom Welling. … ok … and I also like the acting, the storyline and the special effects. Season 4 has had horrible writing this year with only a few episodes that I’ve liked. So I’ve been hanging on to the fact that Tom is on the show and I want to support his career.

Babaluwee, one of the posters on DTS made this comment that pretty much sums it up:

His face is mesmerizing. There’s something about his face that stuns me, stills me, silences me and draws me in. I can’t stop staring at that face, especially his unique pair of eyes, described as “the color of pale green grapes.” There really is something about Tom’s face that does not seem humanly possible: He’s either really an alien, an angel, enchanted/charmed, or has made a pact with the devil to have women react this way in exchange for his soul.

You just get lost in those eyes. They are so piercing, unique and captivating. He has such full, kissable lips. If Michelangelo was alive he would paint and sculpt Tom. He is just stunning and breathtaking.

It’s not what happens to you, It’s what you do about it.
The wrapping might have been damaged but the gift inside is still in good shape.
It’s the folks who don’t pay attention to what “everybody knows” who often succeed in life.

W. Mitchell

So I was watching Balance TV today and on comes W. Mitchell. He is a motivational speaker and I think it’s what I need to get out of this funk that I’m in. He was really interesting and inspiring. Some of his thoughts:

1. Take Responsibility

When you take responsibility for your life, you take responsibility for where you are going to go next…

How am I going to fix it.
Stop blaming others, take the blame yourself.
Either you fix it or it’s not going to get fixed.
Take ownership.
WE make the decision to be responsible. They key word is focus.

2. Make a list
Where do you want to go
Set goals

3. Focus on the good.
There is a lot of good in the world, find it.

Don’t focus on the negative, focus on the positive. What we focus on is what we accomplish.

4. ACT

The longest journey begins with a single step. By changing one small behavior, you can make a huge amount of difference.

Choose to watch or do something to make a positive change.
Focus on the things you CAN do instead of the things you Cannot.
Choose to do what you need to do.

Your life is entirely what you decide it is. The universe starts in your head and spreads out into the world. Change what happens in your head and the universe changes

So based on this I’ve decided to try and think positive, garner enough energy to take on the mundane things of the house and just do it! That and be grateful for what I have.

So to start off I’d like to say that I’m grateful that Bissell makes carpet cleaners so I can clean spaghetti sauce out of my carpet that my 2 year old Brandon spilled all over the basement carpet.

I’m grateful that Ryan bought 2 jugs of 4L milk yesterday because today Brandon opened the drawer of our coffee table and proceeded to dump 1/2 the milk jug into the drawer.

I’m grateful that it is raining yet again even though the community is going to be flooded for the 3rd time this month because then I don’t have to water the lawn.

I’m grateful that Ryan does have a job because even though he is away from us a lot, we have food, shelter and clothing.

I am grateful for a dishwasher, because I have tones of dishes that 4 children generate and I’m glad I don’t have to do it all by hand.

I’m grateful for a washing machine and dryer that works because I would not want to do 15 loads of laundry a week by hand.

I’m grateful for a twist mop to mop my floors after Brandon spilled an entire jug of kool-aid on the floor.

I’m grateful that we are able to have food in the house, even if it ends up in sticky clumps on the floors or on my walls because that means we are being fed and don’t have to go hungry.

I’m grateful for 4 adorable kids, even though they use their creative energies to mess up and destroy the house they are so sweet, funny and they love me even when I’m a bag.

I’m grateful for Ryan who does have a job and works hard to support his family. I love it when he calls me during the day to tell me that he’s thinking of me, he misses me and he loves me.

I’m grateful for friends who are willing to help me at the drop of a hat and listen to my crazy rants.

Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, ambition inspired, and success achieved. ~ Helen Keller

Man has to suffer. When he has no real afflictions, he invents some. ~ Jose Marti

A cynic is not merely one who reads bitter lessons from the past, he is one who is prematurely disappointed in the future. ~ Sidney J. Harris

People have a hard time letting go of their suffering. Out of a fear of the unknown, they prefer suffering that is familiar. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh.

It’s 10:40pm and I’m covered in paint. I only have up the stairs and a few walls left to do, but I’m procrastinating again. I’m so annoyed cuz the Devoted to Smallville site that I always go visit is down.. AGAIN… somebody probably hacked into their site yet again.. that just pisses me off. I just don’ t understand why people just can’t leave that site the freak alone cuz they are tampering not only with them but with my addiction as well! I wish I was a computer master so I could figure out who was doing this to them and then unload a huge whoopass virus on their computer… aww.. heck, why stop there, I wish I could Darth Vader them…*sigh* I’m too sadistic. Sometimes my evil thoughts scare me… I blame my mother… just kidding… only 1/2.

I’ve decided to try blogging because I can type faster than I can write and this way I can just try to work through all the crazy thoughts that roam around in my lil’ brain. Anger management. Stress relief. I’m such a stressed out person, you say the word stress and I’m stressed.. again I blame it on my mother. I’m tired so none of this is going to make sense or follow any pattern. I feel like I’m drowning in a big vat of negativity, anger, stress, sadness, regret, woulda, coulda, shoulda’s and cynicism…(is that even a word or spelled right? I don’t know, but I do know that I am cynical.) I read somewhere that Being Cynical is Just Being Realistic. I’m just so jaded and I just feel like bopping all these naive, happy people on the head.

I’m not always like this, just every now and then. I don’t show this side to anyone, so I’m glad I can vent it out here. People just see the crazy, fun, outgoing, loud, bubbly, happy, friendly, carefree me. The me that’s inside my bubble, not thinking about anything deep or dealing with crap.

I’m such a manic depressive. Right now I’m on my way down.. wait a day or so and I’ll be on my way up again… then I’ll be the happy fun loving person that everyone thinks they know. I just need to retreat back into my little bubble again.

I use to live in this bubble my entire life, even when I was little. It’s how I deal with stuff I don’t want to deal with. It’s where I feel safe. I still retreat to it and live most of my life in it. I’m very imaginative so I just have running daydreams that play out in my head like a TV that’s never turned off. As long as the TV is running I can function and I’m happy…well… temporarily. But every now and then I get snapped out of it. Reality kicks me in the ass, drags me around and makes me eat dirt until I can safely escape back into the warm, comfort and familiarity of my bubble. Sounds weird, stupid, but it’s how I cope with disappointment. It’s the only way I know how to do it. So right now at this moment, I am in reality and I don’t like it. I try to push myself back into the bubble, but something is not letting me retreat. I’m annoyed, because right now I feel a rush of feelings wash over me like the Tsunami and all I want to do is escape. Where the HELL is my Smallville site when I need it! I swear I so wish I was Darth Vader, but then again if I was people in my life would be dead a thousand times over, especially my mother and Ryan.

I’ve made so many bad choices and decisions in my life. I feel like I had so much potential, but I just got lost and now I’m trying to stumble back on the road that I had carved out for myself as a teenager but I’m so far off that I just don’t know which way is north. When I was a teenager I’d contemplate suicide…but now that I have kids, I just contemplate death by car accident or E-coli or salmonella poisoning or West Nile… but only when I’m having a really, really, really horrible, down day. Cuz suicide would really f*ck them up, but a death would probably too, but it probably wouldn’t be as bad as suicide… besides, suicide is a bad example for them. Death is more like… “aww geez too bad.” I just don’t want to screw my kids up.

I struggle with perfectionism. That too I blame on my mother. “What you only got 97%? What you got 1 wrong on your test? You knew that one! Why didn’t you get 100%?” I was an honor student, but still not good enough. I wasn’t as good as my older brother Hans. Who’s off the chart smart. I love him and respect the guy, but I feel like egging him sometimes cuz he was just too smart. He uses such big words that having a conversation with him is such a strain. I always tell him to dumbify it for me or to slow down cuz I didn’t find the last big word he said in my dictionary… how do you spell that? Anyway, my mother’s nagging, angry voice still blares in my brain all these years later. I’m sure that she did the best she could, and I shouldn’t harbor angry feelings toward her, but I still do. I’m working on it.

This trip to the Philippines has put me over the edge with her. Before we went on this trip I was on speaking terms with her and I actually enjoyed talking to her. For once in the past few months our conversations were not angry and she didn’t hang up on me… she’s such a child. She always hangs up the phone and never hears me out or tries to understand my position or where I’m coming from. B*tch.

She psychotic and I don’t want to turn into her. Unfortunately I hear myself talk to my kids the way my nutso mother talked to me and it just PISSES me off. I get so angry at myself for doing that. I do apologize to my kids when I lose it and yell, something that my mother never did. I do try to warn my kids that I’m starting to get angry so they settle down. “I’m getting angry now, please stop.” I sit and try to talk it out calmly with them, again something my mother never did with me. But when I do get those angry feelings they wash over me like a torrent rain storm. I feel like I’m such a bad mother. I’m still so selfish, I wish I could figure out how to help my kids not be so selfish so they don’t turn out angry and resentful like me when they get older. I hate the fact that I’m not this sweet, quiet, demur Mary Poppins mother, but that so isn’t me.

*sigh* I want to be a good mother. All my kids’ friends congregate here at the house. My house is the place to hang out. So I guess that makes me feel good that they feel comfortable here.

I try to do mommy - daughter dates with Laura so I can try to create a bond with her that I never had with my mother. I wish my husband would cooperate (but that’s a whole nother blah, blah, blah) so he could take the boys while her and I just went out. She so desperately needs attention. My time just seems swamped and taken over by the little kids. I think maybe I will try to put the boys to bed early and have a little candle light picnic of cookies n’ milk in front of the fireplace with wine goblets and fancy plates.

My friends say I’m the queen of the kitchen. Well, I do like to bake and cook. I hate the crap cookies that stores try to make. So I always make sure there are cookies, banana bread and cinnamon buns fresh on hand whenever they ask for it. However, being a good cook has it’s downsides too. It’s hard for me to go to restaurants cuz a lot of restaurants out there cook crap. I think they just went over to the toilet, scooped some out, added a little pepper and salt then dish it out… Have some a la crapola. It’s delicious. It’s also hard to go over to people’s houses too. People are cooing over their food and I’m like seriously? are they serious? This lump of regurgitated meat is suppose to be good? *sigh* now I’m just being mean… be nice, be nice. I just like to do the entertaining. It’s easier, that way I don’t have to lie. “Wow! This is salmon?! I’ve never tasted it quite like this before!”

Speaking of cinnamon buns, I think people are being retarded over them. I think they’ve taken a life of their own. People talk about them like they are eating a piece of heaven or something… it’s stupid. I hate it when people ask me to bake some for them… I’m usually pretty gracious and I’ll do it but I get annoyed. Cuz if I’m in the mood and I bake them and take some over whatever, but don’t freakn’ ask me, hint at it or constantly harass me about it. I do them when I feel like it, I’m not the Pillsbury Doughboy. I guess I just don’t take compliments well cuz I just always think that it could be better. ..mind you there are days on the upswing when I think they are pretty damn good and I’m the Queen, but then usually something comes along to bash me across the head to humble me again… like I’ll burn the cookies to which Ryan rejoices cuz he loves hard almost burned cookies. It reminds him of when he was a kid he says…. but his mother is just a bad cook…. but that’s another rant on it’s own.

I love Simple Plan.

It’s an amazing band. I swear their songs tap into every emotion and thought that I have. Especially, “Shut up” dedicated to my mother, “Untitled” although it’s about drinking and driving, I more relate it to my present situation of being right now. “Welcome to my life” same thing my life right now. “Perfect” dedicated once again to my mother. “I don’t want to think about you” dedicated to Ryan. I really hope they go to Calgary, I’m definitely going to go see them. I’d stand in line… They’re Canadian. They just rock. They are awesome!

So since coming back from the Philippines I’m glad I’m home, but all the problems that were here when I left are unfortunately still here. I said this to Ryan and I say it again, we are great as a couple and on vacation, but when you throw kids into the mix along with reality of the real life, we just don’t work well together. All the old issues have come up and I’m pissed… “What’s new?” he says. Sometimes, I just want to walk away and divorce his sorry ass. If he wasn’t so damn good looking and charming I would’ve left a long time ago. *sigh*

Marriage is such hard work. I fell for his looks and that’s such a bad thing to do, cuz I had rose colored glasses and refused to deal with his imperfections to see if I could actually handle and deal with all that sh*t. I’m such an idiot. In a fight the other day he said, “You look at me like you don’t like me anymore, maybe even hate me. You think I’m an idiot and a loser with a bad job.” Ya know, he nailed it. Right on the nose. I just looked at him. I didn’t deny it, cuz I DO think he’s such a not-smart. I have no respect for him at all. He has let me down time and time again, and quite frankly I’m sick of it. I’ve distanced myself from him and have placed him behind a very tall wall and I don’t know if he will ever be able to climb over it or if I will be able to climb over it.

He’s hurt me too many times that I just don’t trust him. He lies to me even though he doesn’t call it lying… I forget what he calls it but he’s the KING of EXCUSES. He’s such a sweet talker and good B.S’er. He can get himself out of any situation like slippery soap. Seriously… he should have been a lawyer. He’s able to twist the truth so that it turns out that I’m the crazy one, the sky really is Purple and OMG dogs do speak!

I’ve told him this to his face. I’m honest… maybe too honest, but I’m desperately trying to get him to see my point of view before it’s too late and I distance myself even further. I feel like I’m swimming along a dark murky river, gulping dirty water frantically trying to swim for shore, but the current keeps getting faster and keeps dragging me further away.

The other night we went to see “Batman Begins.” AWESOME! AMAZING!PHENOMENAL! Best movie I’ve seen since the 1st Matrix. Where you come out of it going, “Wow! I wanna be the Batman! I wanna have a Batmobile! I want the cool toys! I wanna go all kung-fu and kick ass!” Thankfully it didn’t have too many stupid mushy romantic scenes which just makes my stomach curl up and gag.

I hated Spiderman2 because he’s an idiot to keep pinning away after Mary Jane… get the freak over her and MOVE ON! GAH! I hated the last installment. I felt like I wanted to punch Al & Miles. Bring on more action not stupid Peter Parker feeling sorry for himself because some chick won’t jump his bones. Hell, there were tones of other women screamn’ for him. Pick one of those! I just don’t get it. Stupid, just plain stupid… but I’m sure they needed to market it towards the women which pisses me off. Stupid women.

I’m a woman, but I dunno, I hate chick flicks and sappy movies… they just make me gag. If it’s well done I don’t mind, but I haven’t seen one of those in forever. Last chick flick I liked was “Titanic”… I think… oh ya, and “Ever After”. If I’m feeling especially cranky I like to watch Ever After cuz then I can watch it with the kids. It’s fairy tale, but at least Drew Barrymore kicks ass and doesn’t just sit there and say, “Oh, oh, poor me.” She picks up a sword and kicks ass. She has guts, she says what’s on her mind and doesn’t take any prisoners. I like that. Women that don’t stick up for themselves drive me crazy and make me angry. I just feel like slapping them.

Even some of my friends, whine that their husbands don’t do this or that…
“well, did you tell him how you feel? Did you tell him how he hurts your feelings?”
uhh…no.. ”
Well then how the hell are they suppose to know if you don’t tell them! They are not mind readers!”
Duh! It’s not rocket science people. I’m not the smartest apple on the tree and I’ve figured that one out. *I have no patience with people that don’t speak their mind.*

ANYWAY…I loved the Batman, because they kept the stupid love blah blah to a minimum and instead focused on him and working through his fear and anger. Maybe I just related to the Batman that’s why I love it so much. I loved it! I saw it on the IMAX and it was amazing. I felt like I was IN the movie. Just wonderful. It was funny, sad, had awesome action, drama, and made you think. I just thought it was incredible.

I’m going to take my kids to see it. They might be a little young, but they’ve seen both Spiderman’s so I’m sure they can deal with it. Laura is 7 and Josh is 4. It’s not too scary so I think they’ll be fine…. hmm…well, maybe they can close their eyes and peek with one eye open when the people have their nightmares…and if they have problems with it.. ah well.. that’s what counseling is for… lol.. “my mom took me to see batman cuz I begged her everyday and I got scared, even though she told me it was scary. Now I’m 20 and I still pee my pants when I dream of zombies attacking..” *sigh* I’m such a bad mother.

Anyway, back to ranting about’ my husband… so we’re driving back from seeing the Batman and I start talking to him and telling him how I really feel. It’s hard to open my heart up to him especially since I’ve been so closed off and protective of what’s really been bothering me. I just put everything out on the table and tried to explain what I was going through. He listened quietly and let me say my peace, which is what I also love about him because he always listens and doesn’t interrupt. I know he was listening to me intently and not just staring off into the darkened black road we were heading down.

I told him that I didn’t trust him. There have been affairs running rampant out here and they have affected like 8 couples that I know in the past year. That’s 30+ kids whose lives have been given a jolt because one of their parents couldn’t keep their pants on and go to counseling or talk to their spouse about what’s troubling them. Idiots. But I’m still on edge and it makes me suspicious of him. Even though that’s stupid and in my head, I just don’t want to be a stat.

Ryan doesn’t come home early anymore. His version of early is 7pm. Lately it’s been 8, 9, 10, 11pm before he finally graces us with his presence…actually ever since we got back from the Philippines he’s been coming home that late. It makes me suspicious, but he’s always got a good reason/excuse. In my heart of hearts I don’t want to think that’s he’s cheating, but honestly how long can you really work out in the evening? I don’t think that he would cheat, but who knows?

I’ve told him that if he does cheat and I do find out I’m going to drug him with the date-rape drug, then beat him with the cast iron frying pan. Then I would castrate him.. LOL.. I went into detail on how it’s done. I use to help my mother do it all the time at the farm to the animals so I actually do know. It makes him squeamish…lol… sadistic, evil… yep, that’s why I always say, I’m the nicest, most generous person, just don’t make me mad. You wouldn’t like it when I get mad.

Anyway, so I’m pouring my heart out, but I don’t know if I turned the light on. It’s still dim in his house. He didn’t get it. He just said : paraphrasing and then interpreting it as I heard it: sucks to be me if I don’t let anyone in all the way. It’s no way to live and I shouldn’t do that. *DUH* I know that, but I’m trying hard to change that and that’s why I opened up to him. Anyway, he shut me down a few more times by his little asinine comments and the needles that flew out from his mouth. It hurt my feelings so I stopped and clink, clink up went a few more bricks.

*sigh* and the evening started out so good…
and in typical Ryan fashion he says, “I’m tired of talking, I want to go to bed. Are you done?”
uhh… no…
“oh” Big sigh.
forget it.
“What? what did I say?”
More like what you didn’t say dumbass! I thought it, but I didn’t say it. What’s the use of starting an argument now.
I went downstairs once we got home and drowned myself in my DTS pages until the wee hours of the morning when the ache had been pushed down far enough that it wouldn’t come up to slap me in the face repeatedly.

Bleary eyed and exhausted I passed out once my head hit the pillow. Everything has been pushed down into the hollow pit of my heart. I can now sleep…

I can see why people say they fell out of love. It takes work and if people don’t connect on an emotional level, it just dies. Physically we are doing fine. I’ll usually always put out. Very rarely do I say no… hence the 4 kids in 8 years. I’m of the opinion of like hey if I’m not in the mood: help yourself, I’m yours for the taking. If I’m sleeping just roll me over and go nuts, I’ll wake up. Of late I want it more often than he does. Baby come on over…Ahh.. the glory of being 30. He connects on the physical level, but I connect on the emotional level and my emotional needs and wants are not being met right now.

Intelligence is a real turn on for me, as is good looks, but I feel like the rose colored glasses were on so thickly that I thought he was the smartest, hottest guy around that I couldn’t take them off for a sec to realize that he’s blowing smoke. Smoke n’ mirrors, smoke n’ mirrors. I’m tired, sad and disgruntled… and I’m being bitchy.. but hey at least I’m a skinny bitch. hahaha.. our friend Guy who’s French calls me a “skinny bitch” with his thick French accent and I think that’s just hilarious. Cuz well… it’s true. I can be a bitch, don’t get me mad… hell hath no wrath like me… It’s the German in me… brings out the Hitler side.

*sigh* I have more issues than Rolling Stone magazine.

I hate these damn pink flowers on this border. I love lilies, but I hate pink. The pink is driving me nuts. Why can’t they be red, or white? I want to go back to school and learn all about computers, web design, etc. I think it would be interesting and I just want to know everything about it so I don’t have to screw around for hours at a time trying to figure something out. It makes me so annoyed that I can’t just read a book and retain all the info I read just like Will on Good Will Hunting. I swear I’m getting Alzheimer’s. I can’t remember anything to save my life. The more kids I have the stupider I get. I swear, they suck brain cells from me.

And another thing damnit! I’ve had 4 kids and I’m not fat, I’m about 10 lbs. heavier than I was when I was 20. I was 113lbs at 20 now at 30 I’m 123. I was 119lbs when I came back from the Philippines, but I keep baking those damn cookies. damn them and all their sugar! Whatever I still look good in my little red dress. I just need to get out and walk more and tone up. That and Mya is only 9 months old. I know I’ll lose it and be back down to 115lbs.

I want to start running again. I feel so free when I run. You run your heart out and push yourself till your body is screaming for relief… it’s such a great rush. A friend of mine is training for a marathon and I would love to join her, once Mya stops nursing I’m going to start training.

People are always amazed when they see that I have 4 kids…
“Are they all yours?”
No, I just picked up a couple because I like changing stinky diapers for fun, having snotty shirts, doing lots of laundry and having my house destroyed on a daily basis you moron.
*sigh* but unfortunately I don’t say that… instead I just snark,
“ya, my husband keeps knocking me up… ya know the pull out and pray method doesn’t work very well.”
hehe.. which I so enjoy saying cuz I get the funniest reactions sometimes… especially from the old ladies… ha. The look on their faces is priceless… ah… all for the shock value…

Another time I was at the park and this lady asked me how I liked having a day care.
“Oh no, these are all mine!,” I reply.
“Really! You don’t look like you could have 4 kids. You don’t look like a mom”
Why? Cuz I’m not fat? What the hell does that mean? Is there some sort of mommy mold you’re suppose to jump into when you have kids? Am I suppose to wear frumpy clothes and walk around with wicked witch of the east hair?
I’ve gotten that a few times and quite frankly it annoys the hell out of me. I don’t know why. I haven’t sat down to process that one yet.

When we went to the Batman movie I brought Mya cuz I’m still nursing her so I can’t leave her with the baby sitter. So we go to sit down and people around us give us dirty looks and some even moved. I felt like saying bite me! I turned to the people beside me who were staring at me and said, “Don’t worry, she won’t say a word during the movie. She’ll fall asleep, she’s use to loud noises at home. We’ve been taking her to the movies since she was 1 week old. I wouldn’t be here if I thought she would even whimper.” To which they smiled and nodded. I’m sure they were thinking, “bitch, for ruining the movie.” Well, once the movie started she was instantly out and sleeping. Even through the booms, crashes and explosions. Didn’t peep or utter a word. The lights go up at the end of the movie and people all around us say surprisingly..
“wow, we didn’t even hear your baby!”
“She didn’t even cry!”
“I forgot you even brought a baby!”
To which I’d snark: Ya, I dipped her soother in Vodka so she’d pass out.
ha, that always gets a good reaction too.

Idiots. This world is filled with idiots. There’s just too many of them. They are taking over and for some reason I keep running into them. *sigh*

I feel darkness creeping in. I need to snap out of it before I turn into Darth Vader…. then again… that is a good idea…