Growing pains

So, almost two weeks ago, my husband and my daughter and I drove several hours to take my beautiful first born, the boy, off to University. 

I cried. A lot. Not so much on the way home, but in the preceding weeks and most definitely on the car ride there. I tried to hide my tears behind my sunglasses, but I kept looking at my son in the back seat, so he quickly caught on that Mom was a bit emotional (Understatement of the century! I also believe there was a conspiracy set up by the government in cahoots with all radio stations to play the saddest music of all time so that all parental units dropping kids off were bawling by the time the drop-off was nearing. Who the hell plays 'Yesterday' by the Beatles on drop-off day?? Seriously). 

Once we were there, registering and watching him learn to fly with those wings I have tried to keep indefinitely clipped for 17 years was an experience I don't want to, but have to repeat in 2 years with my baby girl. I should really just start crying now and maybe I'll be all dried up by that time? No, I wont'.  We got him sorted out and made the bed, tried to figure out where his possessions would actually fit in a dorm room he shares with two friends, and then it was time to leave. I wanted to stay forever. Wasn't there room for me somewhere?? Sadly, the answer is no. I think that might be the worst recognition. Suddenly,  it donned on me that I'm just a Mom and while I have tended and clucked and prodded since he was born, there isn't much room anymore. I get it. I have parents, and while I miss them and talk often, it's different. Our worlds are now separate and we bring them together once in a while. Once you fly the coop, there's really no turning back. Things will never be the same. He will grow into a man while I'm not there to watch. He is learning, truly, how to think and experience and feel for himself and while I am beyond excited for him, I am fearful. Fearful for him (please make smart choices and for God's sake, stay safe!! (as in come home to me in one piece)), and absolutely scared out of my mind for me. I am terrified. What if he grows up and comes home at Thanksgiving and has decided that I text and call too often and frankly, he doesn't like me anymore. Thanks for helping, but see ya! Thanks for cooking me for 9 months and losing sleep for 17 years and counting, but nice knowin' ya!  Yup, not a coloured hair left on my head terrified. 

I have unsuccesfully tried to think of this University experience as though it were summer camp. Delusional, I know. While it worked for the first 48 hours, I knew I had to clean up my son's room and that's when it hit me...he might be home in a few weeks, he might not be home until Thanksgiving (which, lucky for me is in October in Canada, but still too long). You may want to note, that task has not been completed, it's too hard. It is honestly surreal. Wasn't this the brand new human I so tenderly held in my arms - with his big, curious, blue eyes, his beautiful cherubic cheeks and head of downy soft hair - just yesterday??

Too fast. Too much and too fast. 

I waited this long to compose these thoughts because, like my house that seems perpetually stuck in the chaotic state I left it while packing two weeks ago, I was at an emotional stand-still. I look around at the disaster that is currently my home, and know that it is an absolute reflection of my thoughts and feelings at the moment, and I should let them flow and clean it up!  Not so easy because part of me fears that if I tidy things up, or pack things away, it's putting a piece of my boy permanently out of sight. Or, worse yet, what if I throw something out or pack something away that he wanted. That wouldn't be very nice of me would it?

Frosh week went down without a hitch...for my son. At home we found it too quiet and too worrisome. I'm thinking this whole kid leaving the house thing is never easy, it's just getting used to it with time. No news is good news, right?  He had a lot of fun and even got himself out of bed (way too early) to try out for the rowing team. We are not sure if he made it yet, but I'm so proud of the kid that I spent four years screaming at to "GET. UP!! or you'll be late for school!" for getting up, and making it to tryouts. He worked hard. He's only been away for almost two weeks and he's already becoming a responsible man while I'm not looking. 

We miss him. All of us. I'm going to trust that he misses us back, and I'm hoping that he has an unforgetable experience. It is an incredible stage of life when you're young and eager. I just hope he remembers to frequently call home and keep us posted. And that I'll likely make the trek to visit by next week because I might not be able to last much longer than that without seeing his beautiful face. 

Maybe, just maybe, I'll try not to text him a million times a day for a play by play, and keep his wings from being clipped just a smidge more. It will be growing pains for all of us, and we shall just see how high the kid can fly...

Conquering nature!

This week was a week of relaxing and day trips with my wee family. As a busy, self-employed gal in health care, I get very little time off, and it is much needed.

Over the past few years I had worked myself so deeply to the core that the term 'burn-out' was an understatement.  My personal health care team couldn't figure out what was going on with me and it took a year to get a specialist who could figure out, and I quote a Nurse Practitioner, 'weird.'  It was difficult to work and then take the dogs for a walk. My body was literally buzzing, my brain caught in the longest fog storm in history and my muscles and heart, simply not cooperating (I'm pretty sure my adrenals were pooched but we can't prove that). If I worked and then tried to exercise, I was having to hang on or I was hitting the pavement after ten minutes at a slow pace. I was told to slow down at work and in life in general or I wouldn't be able to work or enjoy life again (The point was...I'd be dead). So, last year, I hibernated outside of work and did absolutely nothing. I mean it. Nada, zilch, zero, nothing. I lay out on the couch and buzzed away.

This year, through said 'weird' specialist, we discovered my body was attacking itself and I am just starting (with the help of thyroid medication) to recoup some energy and use my muscles outside of work. Not back to where I was, that's for sure, but yay energy!!

We were going to be headed to the beach this week, a great beach, 2.5 hours away (it's that nice), but the weather wasn't potentially cooperating, so we decided to drive 2.5 hours in a different direction and hit Niagara Falls, Canada. If you've never been there, you are missing out mother nature at her finest. It is spectacular. One of my all time favourite haunts.

The 'thing' about Niagara Falls is that you need to walk. A lot. I can walk for over 90 minutes at a good clip now, so I was prepared. What I wasn't prepared for was my own brilliant idea.

'Let's do the gorge hike! It's my favourite!' I enthusiastically encourage my family.

'Okay!' They all agreed.

I was excited. I was hiking the gorge. It's a bit like a fairy tale down in the gorge, an especially beautiful sanctuary for daydreamers.

We parked and looked at the map. I got laughed at by strangers (and some head shakes with eye rolls) as I urge my kids to hike the routes by the rapids marked DANGER on the map (there are two areas near each other marked Danger, I wanted to do both).

'Let's do Danger! Danger!' This was going to be fun!

Long forgotten was the fact that you need to hike down the cliff-side a mere 200ft,, climb open stairs (see through stairs scare the life out of me) and descend steep slippery stones and stairs before leaving the trail to climb giant boulders that have long fallen off the cliff-side and have been polished smooth by years of wet and snowy weather.

200 feet down from the hut at the top (red circle) to the rocks at the rivers edge. Red arrows indicate our route along the rivers edge

This is my favourite hike. I live for this hike. Observing the rush of the river as it winds its way toward Lake Ontario at the uuber slow speed of 1.5 million gallons per second. Pictures, though I'll add one or two can not visually translate the speed at which this mighty beast moves. You have to experience it for yourself. Awesome is an understatement.

We descended and reached Danger area 1.

This area did not prove thrilling enough for my family, so we decided to head to Danger area 2. This is when Mama (me) got a little over-ambitious.

Instead of climbing back up the hill we made the decision to go around by the water to the next rapids area. This required dangerous traversing on slippery boulders, jumping across potential ankle breaking crevasses, scaling sloped angles, finding hand and toe holds and hoping to hell you don't slip and fall. There is no immediate rescue if you fall into the Niagara River, especially into the rapids. This was fine and dandy for my fit husband and kids, but after 10 minutes of this crazy rambling to Danger 2, my leg started to give out. An unfortunate gift from my thyroid symptoms has been peripheral neuropathy, and didn't it decide to arrive right when the most difficult aspect of the climb began? I was frightened, my kids who don't understand physical and biochemical dis-ease, taunted me for suddenly slowing down and holding everyone back. My husband, however, gained brownie points for actually tracking back and travelling at a snails pace behind me in case I slipped or just couldn't weight bear on my leg.

Putting things in perspective: My 'boys' are 6'5" tall each, and my daughter hovers around 5'10"

Never in my life have I had to use such sheer will and concentration to physically achieve a goal as I did to complete the climb from Danger 1 to Danger 2 (okay, partially untrue, delivering babies required focus). I realized I had too lofty of a goal for a body that hadn't done much physically besides work and walk in a few years.

I made it. I ended up crawling for half of it, but I did it (Sit, reach, scoot. Sit, reach, scoot, crawl).  I did it and I was queen of the world for a few moments.

We enjoyed waving at the people in the boat that was battling the force of the rapids (the rapids almost won), hearing them shrill in terror and excitement. I enjoyed watching my husband and children defy death by inching closer and closer to the river's edge (I would have done so too if I had a deeper trust in my left side at that moment). It was beautiful. It was a rare moment where there were no outside thoughts, just the present.

This boat holds approximately 50 people

Before long it was time to head back so we would have time to take a gondola across the river and walk beside the majestic views of Horseshoe Falls, the American Falls and Bridle Falls. I stood up and realized that I had to climb up more rocks at un-kind angles and then hike up that 200 feet we came down.

Oh crap. I thought I might not make it.

Thirsty. I was thirsty and it was hot and I was sweating and my leg was trembling and I had to, oh, I don't know...breathe.

By the time I stepped up that final stair, my clothes were soaked to the bone, my heart almost fell out of my mouth and I honestly felt about eighty years old. I have to admit that I was a bit peeved at my body for nearly letting me down and embarrassing me in front of my kids.

I had a drink, took a brief rest on a bench and began to cool down. My mind changed. Once I was no longer thirsty and sweaty and my heart returned to it's natural home in my chest versus my throat, I realized that my body didn't fail me. It cooperated with my mind and though out of shape and a bit slow at the end, it did exactly what I needed it to do. It completed the hike I so wanted to take with my family. It carried me up those awful, awful, slopes and steps. It allowed me to enjoy the mossy covered stones in the lower trails, it kept me from falling down into the rapids and though I couldn't keep up with my kids...it only put me a minute or two behind.

My body didn't fail me...it allowed me to conquer nature! It pushed me to my limits physically and mentally and gifted me with new hope. If I can finish this hike, what else can I do?

I guess we'll have to find out!

Let the crap fall...

Once in a while (okay, a LOT in a while), people go out of their way to ruin your day.

Perhaps my head has fallen out of the clouds for a moment, as I have noticed this far too frequently as of late. Something in the stars perhaps? I don't know. All I do know, is that it is really, really, annoying (and hurtful).

I'm sure I ruin my kids days and sometimes my husband's beautiful day once in a while, and for that I am sorry. It absolutely sucks to have your perfectly great mood ruined. It can set your entire day on the wrong course.

I  love my family (number 1 on my favourite people and best friends list!), and the other day my daughter shushed me when I was singing. That stung and I felt my beautiful soul cringe and tuck itself away in a corner. My day was suddenly a bad day as my beloved daughter carried on after the initial shushing and told me I was annoying and to stop ruining songs by singing. NOW, I am not a fabulous songstress, even with my many years of musical training, but it brings me joy. It is one of my favourite things! I don't do it in public as I am well aware of my talents, or lack thereof (unless I am dared because a karaoke machine is nearby. I can't pass up a dare that involves me potentially embarrassing myself in front of a crowd...brings out the comedian in me).

Today, I had a beautiful day at a local zoo with my daughter (a far cry from the singing incedent in the car). I posted a picture on a site in which friends and acquaintances can see. Suddenly, a sad face appeared in the comment section. The picture was of my daughter (who is very tall) and a giraffe. It was titled 2 Giraffes. It was a lovely shot, my camera skills are improving, I was happy!

...and then the comments on how the animal is out of it's natural habitat and shouldn't be in Canada during winter etc., etc., began.  The zoo I was at is a rescue for ailing and abandoned animals. They may be out of their natural habitat, but they are cared for and well-fed. The point is; I don't always want an opinion. Sometimes, I just want to enjoy my day and take a picture of my gorgeous daughter without hearing about the politics of Zoo's. Sometimes, you just want to go and look at beautiful animals, because, well, they are there, they need to be fed (admission supports that), and well, I just can't afford a fucking plane ticket to Africa at the moment. Also, there are no poachers at the zoo that want to eat the monkey's paws or kill the nearly extinct animals because that makes them more exotic and gives them a higher price for people that care only about money and trophies. The zoo I was at has been successful in reproduction of animals hovering low on the numbers scale, which is usually a sign of health and well-being. Do I love zoo's (and circuses while we're on the topic), no. I don't. I have never taken my children to Sea World because I know the animals aren't happy there. I have watched Black Fish and Sharkwater. I love animals. Which is why I go to places that rescue them.

I don't eat certain brands of meat of from various fast food joints because they have been caught abusing animals. I support PETA to the best of my ability, I support dog (and cat and fish and hamster and guinea pig and bunny and horse) ownership, I support musicians. That doesn't mean I don't have pets (sort of like a zoo if you want to get right down to the dirt of it all) and it doesn't mean I don't like going to concerts. I'd love to be vegan except I can't digest legumes or most fruits and vegetables. So, I eat meat, I own pets, I go to concerts and I support the local rescue zoo once every decade (<---- that's riiiiight, decade).

Anyway, I digress. I was having a lovely day, posted a beautiful picture of my daughter and someone decided to ruin it. I was having a lovely day, singing in the car, and someone decided to ruin it.

Daydreamers are very sensitive. I am very sensitive. While I do yell at the kids, try to 'assist' them in making wise life choices and piss the hubster off once in a while, I certainly don't go out of my way to do so. In fact, I usually make it a daily goal to make people smile. ALL DAY.

The older I get, the more I realize how difficult life can be, the curve-balls it can throw in your direction (and hit you square in the face), and how important it is to go out of your way to make people smile, or enjoy their silliness and to let them just be themselves, no matter how it might irk you at the moment.

All humans have opinions, we think, we were blessed with having our own ideas and voices. We were also blessed with thinking first before we speak and biting our tongue when it's called for. In this we fail. More often than not. (I am, quite literally, failing right now as I type my words and open the tap "Filter OFF!").

You don't have to agree with me, you don't have to like what I say, how I sing, or what I do... I'm getting to the age where I don't really care what you think. I am at the age where I will sing poorly in my home or car as often and as loudly as I want, because it brings me joy. I am getting to the age where I go to the local rescue zoo because I WANT to. I want to help feed the beautiful animals, I WANT to enjoy what precious time I have with my beautiful children.

I'm not hurting you, in fact, I'm not hurting anyone. I support ethical treatment of all animals and children. I realize how swiftly life passes. I am a good person that goes out of her way to bring joy to others. So please, don't go out of your way to hurt me. My soul is tired of being told how to behave and to go cringe in a corner when it was free and happy.

Let me sing! You might have a great laugh (very high on the 'likely' list). Appreciate that the picture you saw was to capture a moment with my beautiful, teenage, gazelle and in lieu of being political, perhaps, oh I don't know...comment on how lovely my daughter is.

Be kind, be thoughtful, be aware that more often than not, you haven't a clue on behind the scenes stresses happening in others lives, and to appreciate instead of berate the beautiful moments others have felt safe to share with you.

PS. This is how 'at home' the animals were today: Monkey...watching the crowd, then masturbating FOR the crowd. Jaguars...mating in front of everyone. Baboon...full-on erection while chasing the female baboon around. Good times. Very educational.

2 Giraffes

To be Sixteen again...the bicycle ride.

Today I rode my bike like a sixteen year old; by following my sixteen year old.

I rode on the sidewalk, did not wear my helmet or sunglasses, and wore flip-flops instead of a good pair of sneakers. I was reliving my teenage years by doing exactly what my own teenager was doing. Riding uninhibited and breaking the rules!

I like to think of myself as a ‘free-spirit’ in general and today was a great lesson in how very, very wrong I am.

Today, I went down a hill in a parking lot because it’s fun. I weaved my bike onto every newly paved driveway available. I stuck my foot out to the side to feel some long, beautiful grass on my foot and leg from a lawn in dire need of a haircut. It was wonderful. I rode straight through a garage sale…and made the patrons move off of the sidewalk without a word.  I peddled backwards on the down hills instead of just coasting. At a stop light, I followed my daughter down a new street and instead of patiently waiting for the light to turn green, she changed direction and  took me down a foreign sidewalk and then across a street. At that point she opted to ride on the grassy boulevard and I stuck to the road. It was an opportunity lost and instantly regretted.  My adult self got in the way of a beautiful, care-free moment.

We wove through a forest that I didn’t know existed in the twenty-plus years we have lived in this neighbourhood. We came out a tight curve and I nearly fell off of the trail and down a steep slope. This trail was clearly designed by the youth of the area. We looped through a few streets via cat-walks and though I walk with my husband and friends this way often, my daughter started riding her bike on the wrong side of the street. My maternal, nagging, instincts came rushing forth.

“Why are you riding on the wrong side of the road?!!”

My daughter did not respond, but led me to a new, undiscovered (by me), cat-walk. I was at that moment glad she ignored me (there is apparently a first time for everything) and was amazed I had walked these streets for decades and never knew that particular path existed.

I rode my bike over bumps that grew out of people’s driveways. I went back down the other side of the hill in the parking lot, over a wooden bridge that apparently provides rickety, bumpy fun, only when atop a bicycle. It doesn’t do that when you walk on it. That was awesome and I will do that again.  We proceeded through a school yard on asphalt, gravel and some grass.

This half-hour adventure truly opened my eyes. I discovered that my perception of self has been morphed and changed by the rigors of society and ‘rules.’ I have learned that I ‘do’ actually try to control my kids (I usually deny that and just tell them to listen to me). I am indeed the ‘mother-goose’ my husband calls me lovingly (mockingly) when we are out and about.  I nag. I am a controlling drudge at times. I have been afraid to let go and trust my kids to make wise decisions. I have been afraid to let my kids follow their own path and trust they will land on their feet if I just let go…

Today’s small bike ride around the neighbourhood taught me that I need to veer from the path once in awhile to truly experience the joys of spontaneity, to face the bumps in life with joy and abandon, trusting that I will land and have a smooth ride after the bumps. That new routes lead to undiscovered treasure. New grass feels incredible on your feet and old, rickety wood bridges make a special kind of music and are fun to ride over. Breaking the rules once in a while is actually kind of (a LOT of) fun. I learned that when my daughter ignores my call, she is still having fun in a respectful manner. Her fun isn’t hurting anyone; it’s just feeding her soul. 

This daydreamer is grateful that I got off of my chair, and asked my daughter if I could ride with her on her bicycle adventure; as it fed my soul too.