Races

Wednesday, August 28, 2013

Loop Back

On Tuesday of this week I walked Jake into his new high school to get his class schedule. He tugged at his shirt and looked around nervously to see if he recognized any of his friends from his elementary school while I tugged at my own shirt wondering if the new baby was making its sweet little presence known on this momentous day. Jake and I realized together that when this baby goes into Kindergarten, Jake will be going into University. We laughed at the thought of it. What a lucky little brother or sister, having all of these big people to look up to!

Freddy was asking me one night about what makes up a family. I had explained to him that there are all different kinds of families. That I had grown up with three moms: my mom, and my two sisters who were a lot older (ha ha!) than me. When I was in grade eight, Tracey was married and I would often go to their place for sleepovers. I have fond memories of snuggling with their cat "Muffin" who, to my utmost glee, had kittens. I got to sleep on their pull-out couch and listen to the symphony of purring beside me on the floor. We'd always have peanut butter toast in the morning for breakfast on whole grain bread. We'd listen to the chickadees outside of their bathroom window, and that's when Tracey taught me how the chickadee got its name.

When I stayed at Lori and Dave's she always let me use all of her really expensive skin cream and makeup. I'd take a steaming hot shower and wash my hair with fancy salon products, slathering my locks in $60 leave-in conditioner. The best part? Lori would throw a huge fluffy bath towel into the dryer for me while I was showering so that when I got out, I could wrap myself up with it.

I imagine that I would have driven them nuts and so I'm not sure how I deserved all this sweet treatment but for some reason or another, they still gave it to me.

What makes a family? Even though we accept that it isn't always a mom, a dad, a son, a daughter and a golden retriever, we still tend to bend that way. Andrew and I giggle (giggle?) nervously about what we'll look like at Costco with my belly out ten feet and 5 kids rallying around us like protesters. Or school Christmas concerts when we have to reserve the first two rows...for just our immediate family. Meanwhile we'll be texting our exes about who has the shepherd's costume and oh, Katie just threw up in her angel wings.

I guess just like any other family, it's a group project. We look out for each other from the oldest to the youngest, looping back for hot towels and peanut butter toast. Everyone has something to offer and nobody knows what the hell is going on but at the end of it all, we all link up arms and take a bow.

As long as the baby is walking by then.


Monday, August 26, 2013

Alice Would be Blushing

I added a new label: "blended family." There aren't a whole lot of blended family blogs out there. If you're in a blended family yourself then it would be cool to be able to relate to someone else going through similar experiences. If you're not in a blended family then reading about them might help to broaden your horizon a bit! And a blended family is just that: a family. So a lot of the things our family will go through, so will any type of family, I am sure.

Our blended family is a relatively large one and so with it comes a spray park of dynamics; there are personalities coming at us in all directions. Andrew and I have seen counselors, read books, looked up websites, taken notes and made lists. Our date nights are filled with Spanish coffees (well, peppermint tea for me for the next 6 months) and discussions about how we will best parent our children together. There is no shortage of love in our family but we would be naive to think that love is all we need. We need plans, and then flexibility when said plans go to shit. We need to respect and forgive ourselves first so that we can then be able to respect and forgive each other. And above all, we need to communicate communicate communicate.

But it's good for us to realize that we can't control everything no matter how much we read and how many lists we make. And that sometimes we just need to let go. When I update people in my life about our family, I get asked a lot of questions and my reply is always honest: I make the rollercoaster motion with my hands in the air and that essentially sums it up. There's going to be a lot of tops and bottoms and hairpin curves and downright frightening moments. If we can just hold onto each other while we're being thrown around, then we can let go and throw our hands in the air when we're at the top.

One of my favourite memories is when we took our kids up the Abbotsford Grind: a tough hike up a local mountain. A couple of them tore up like it was nothing, and one or two kids straggled behind. But when we got to the top, we sat together and ate our sandwiches in peace while we looked out at the view below. We spent quite a bit of time at the top because it had been such hard work to get up there. I'm not sure who started this but all of our kids lined up along the edge and mooned us. We took a picture to capture the silly moment so that when we have more tough climbs we can remember that it's not always difficult, that they do pass and we do get to have fun at the top.

And we know that when we get shot upside the head with the hose water, we can just shake it off and show them the moon.


Sunday, August 25, 2013

Hey, How's it Going?

I went through this phase in University where I put a huge emphasis on authenticity to the point where I sacrificed manners and social skills in the name of "being real." One of the things I hated was when people used the question "how's it going?" as a greeting rather than an honest inquiry. And so I rebelled against it and whenever someone would ask me that, I'd stop and just start totally going into my life story to see their reaction. They'd get all squirmy and I'd get all smug, as if I taught them some sort of lesson in authenticity.

However, I've since matured, partly because I found myself without a whole lot of friends but mostly because it didn't feel good to not care. Don't get me wrong--I value sincerity. I recognize the goodness of being real, of acknowledging and giving validity to our feelings and moods as they ebb and flow through our days. But sometimes, just sometimes, we need to get over ourselves and give a fuck about someone else.

Being human means to be absorbed with Self. Exercising the muscle of Other is exactly that: an exercise. It doesn't come naturally. It's work. It makes us sweat and it often smarts. And sometimes the very last thing on earth that I ever want to do is care about whatever person is in my face in that moment and it takes every ounce of my energy to lift that weight and care. But each time I do, (and I often don't!) I feel better.

When I was younger, I'd whine to my mom about not wanting to go to church that day and my mom would always tell me that this is the best time to go--when I don't feel like it. That I will be doubly rewarded (an extra cookie in Sunday School?) if I forced myself to go. I'm not sure if this ideology deemed true each time but there's something to be said about doing things that you don't feel like doing.

Statistically, a smile, even if it's forced, produces happy chemicals in the brain and our bodies can't help but feel a bit happier! Maybe if we forced ourselves to look up and smile, even when we don't feel like it, we'd find our emotional muscles to be stronger and more efficient.

I'm sure you're angry and resentful and have every good and valid reason to unleash your assholery on the cashier/son/daughter/ex/dog/annoyingpersontalkingtooloudontheircellinthestarbucksline, and God knows they have no idea how hard your life has been and they most certainly haven't ever had a struggle in their lives. But just keep doing what you're doing. Leave the bar of Other on the ground in the weight room and see what happens. If it's the same thing that happened to me, you'll look up in the gym mirror and see nobody around you and your heart will be small and cold and flabby. Or, you can let go of Self and pick up the Other bar and join the rest of the world in all our glorious messes.

Because where there are messes, there are people. And where there are people, there is Love.



Friday, August 23, 2013

Inked

There's this guy who used to regularly come into the physio clinic when I first started working there and then his ICBC claim time limit came up and he stopped going. I remember him being so... defeated. His head was slung low and his shoulders seemed to curl forward as if they'd swallow his body whole and he'd disappear completely.

I can't imagine what it might be like to live with pain day in and day out. I see a lot of people at my work in pain, and I don't wish it on anyone. It seems to be a relentless beating that doesn't have a trigger; each attack is a surprise, not leaving a clue as to when it will cease. But then I noticed that there are some people who come in who deal with pain even worse than this guy and yet they have this positive and hopeful outlook on life. They might limp, but their eyes are sparkly. They might have paralysis in their face but they smile with as much of it as they can.

I don't dare judge, as I can't imagine standing for a moment in their shoes let alone walk a mile in them. All I do is observe and wonder how I'd live it out if it were me. I can only hope that my eyes would sparkle and that my mouth would curl into a lopsided grin but I bet with all of my able body parts that I would have both good days and bad.

The guy who stopped coming came back in the other day and when I unhooked him from the IFC machine, I noticed he has a tattoo on his back that I hadn't seen before. It reads: "Carpe Diem." Seize the Day.

For now, the tattoo is ironic. And maybe it would have been better if he had inked the slogan on the tops of his feet, as that is where is gaze usually falls. But as I stood there and wiped the ultrasound gel off his back, I decided that it's up to me, and only me, to seize the day.


Sunday, August 18, 2013

Drop Back In

No matter our social status, height-to-weight ratio, or the presence (or not) of a unibrow, each one of us take turns getting schooled in the lesson of humility.

Jake's friend was attempting to drop in on his skateboard at the skate park, and while he stood there staring down at the steep ramp in respectful fear, other skaters looked on in hopeful support. A few of them even came over and gave him some encouraging pointers. He stood there, rocked back and forth a bit and with the crowd of adolescents watching expectantly, he chickened out. He got off his board and tripped, landing face first over the edge of the ramp, his bum in the air and with his face pressed down into the grass on the other side.

Humility.

His eyes burned with embarrassment but we reassured him that we've all been there. Jake began listing his own personal stories of humiliation while his friend blinked back tears. Some self-regulation combined with a couple shoulder-smacks and a few friendly words of encouragement, and Jake's friend got right back on the board and dropped in on the ramp. Bam.

Becoming a mother is humbling. Sticking my finger in a diaper to check its status and pulling it out covered in poo can put a damper on how I view my mothering skills. Clipping my teenager's dragon toenails and having them rocket into my face can bring me down a couple notches. Lighting breast pump paraphernalia on fire, getting barfed on (ceasar salad, to boot), and losing my bathing suit bottoms at a grade two school pool party on the rope swing, are all examples of humility. In the moment? It's tragic. But if we can keep getting back up, we can look at the scene below us and laugh.

Jake's friend exemplified humility but even more so, he illustrated courage.

"Success is not final, failure is not fatal; it is the courage to continue that counts."
-Winston Churchill-




Thursday, August 8, 2013

Be Together

The kids and I were picking out a movie to watch tonight and Jake informed me that statistically, funny movies are funnier when a bunch of people watch it together. More people, more laughs, good times all around. Then he pointed out that scary movies are much scarier with less people. Isolation breeds fear like Kate makes eight.

This is true for movies, and true for life. Humans were created for community. Laughing feels good. Being scared is inevitable and even though it can sometimes be exciting and stimulating, we still need to know that when the scary part is over we can collapse into the safety of our loves.

Andrew and I are both "people" people. On one of our first dates we went to this ocean side restaurant where we sat at this really sweet romantic table for two beside a huge water fountain. This cute older couple sat down at the table next to us and we could hear them wondering aloud what "sliders" were. I was just about to turn to help them out when Andrew himself started talking to them, explaining the menu and laughing with them about something or other. I remember sitting there staring at him thinking to myself, "HE is talking?!? That's MY job!!!" And I knew we were made for each other. We're like those two guys in the balcony from the Muppet Show. People usually just stare at us with their mouths open while we go off on our little comedy act. We think we're hilarious. Why? Because there's two of us. People laugh because it's contagious! We don't do it to be funny, we just do it because it's fun to be together.

Life doesn't always hand out cotton candy and free tickets to Disneyland. Sometimes it's raw broccoli and shark tanks. Linking up and muscling through the scary parts will eventually get us through it in one piece, and then when we get to the good stuff, we won't be alone to enjoy the rides.