In the End

Canada wasn't where we needed to be.

Wasn't where I needed to be.

I didn't ever settle in well there.

I blame no one and nothing but myself really.

It was hard. It was cold. It felt very isolating. It wasn't what I was hoping it'd be.

Though I can't exactly pinpoint what I thought it was going to be.

What it was ... wasn't it.

Who I was there wasn't who I felt comfortable being.

We had some good times there while I was working it out, however!

Spent some evenings over at my mom's mans house doing heart warming activities like roasting marshmallows inside!

Rhiannon got to spend crazy time with her favorite cousin

I got to spend time with old friends

Went to a country auction where a ridiculous amount of money was raised amongst down home decor

Helped out neighbors and family with brandings

Looking back, pictorially ... fun times were had. I just couldn't settle.

I always had a fissure of unease. Or discontent. Or anxiety.

I didn't know how to talk about it. Or even where the source of it was.

Probably deep inside me where I don't like to look.

Eh Hem

*twiddles thumbs*

*looks left then right*

*blushes slightly*

Sooo... it's been a while.

Like, a LONG while.

Should we get reacquainted or just jump right back in and see how it goes?

I vote for the latter and I'm the writer so I win.

YAY for being the author!

I'm not sure how to go about presenting the last five months.

The votes are in. Oldest to most recent it is!

(I KNOW no one actually voted, go about your business! I like my not so stable reality.)

Dancin' Machine

All of Rhiannon's "girl cousins" who are old enough participate in dance here in Raymond. Clogging, Ballet, Jazz and Hip Hop are covered by the 7 of them. None of them take ALL, but most take at least two. Except Rhiannon, she wasn't even too sure she'd like the ONE jazz class she asked to be signed up for.

Turns out she LOVES it and was disappointed she wasn't involved in more.

Much to my delight.

Not that I'm a dancer.

At all.

But I'm thrilled that she is finally getting off the couch WILLINGLY to do something physical.

Heritage

My Grandparents have lived on their land for longer than I've been alive, longer than my mom has been apart of the family, longer than Old Chief Mountain has been a peak to conquer.

They are in the process of selling it. It's not SOLD, just on the market.

Which makes the breath in my throat catch every time.

I love that place.

Something is always broken.

The water smells funny.

There is mice in the basement.

The barn is so old it should be condemned.

It's ours as far as your eye can see.

The River runs true.

The forest/brush on it have seen many a childhood "battle" take place.

In any direction you walk you can find history just waiting for you to look for it.

None of the Sons or Grandsons have shown an interest in taking over the "Double Anchor" cattle/farming/trucking business.

Well, One has, but they are at loggerheads and my Granp is a proud man.

So is the Grandson.

They are so much alike when I hear my cousin talk I can close my eyes and drift into a "this is grandpa talking" haze.

In any case.

My Granps birthday was the say before Mother's Day, so a bunch of us rolled on out there to

celebrate him getting wiser *cough cough*

and my grams getting more regal :)

I took the opportunity to walk some of the close pastures and capture a tiny smidgon of the history, love, hard work and dedication that has endured.

Really made me wish I had a nice camera ... BOOOOO!

Da-Zoo

Last Thursday we went up to Calgary with my mom to check out if she wanted to have corrective eye surgery. Turns out she doesn't, but that doesn't mean we didn't have a blast in Calgary anyway!

While she was at her assessment I took the kids to IKEA, where in the past they have LOVED hanging out because Smaland is terrific fun. I thought it'd be a great way to waste away an hour. Turns out punk #1 has grown so much since we left Texas she can

no longer go IN Smaland ...

*tear*. She was torn between misery of not being allowed to go play and excitement of being THAT MUCH taller than when we left Texas.

I some how managed to forget all of our jackets at home ... therefore we all got new ones. Yay! Unneeded expenses! I admit, I HATE spending a lot of money on stuff for me. Mostly because I don't think I look great in anything (ya ya ya, body issues I'll over come some day). However, this time I actually talked myself into a nice jacket. Realizing that while my waist may get bigger and smaller, my "chest" size will always stay the same ... so I fit it to THAT part of my body and wasn't disappointed in the least. It rained off and on all day while we wondered the zoo and while I got chilly from time to time - I was NEVER wet. Brilliant!

After we picked up my mom from her appointment we headed to the zoo.

It was a great "break day" for us all.

Oh. Dear.

Will you just LOOK at the time? No! not the actual time. Especially you mom, do NOT notice what time I was up writing this post, I'm old enough to stay up past ten ... well, these days that really doesn't count since I am nodding off before I even put my kids to bed. Physical labor is HARD WORK!!

by time, I meant how long it's been since I blogged last.

Then again, maybe I don't want you looking at that either.

It's been an embarrassingly long time.

The load I've been hauling since coming to Canada has been ... hard and tiring.

Sometimes rewarding.

Some what fulfilling.

At times overwhelming.

I'll write a series of posts to catch you up on the small things that made up the big experience.

Easier to posts pictures to individual posts than a bunch to one.

So says I ;)

Wert-ing

I work semi-part time doing respite for a friend of mine.

We've been friends since I was 12; she started hanging out with me to get closer to my brother ... I ended up keeping her. hahaha.

She's been trying to "catch up" on her life since her third-of-four kid was born.

Courtney was born with a respiratory disfunction in which her brain essentially forgets to tell her to breathe. Especially when she's sleeping or sick. It's been a long, hard road for this family to travel. Parts of her life have gone to the way-side while she tries to keep up with the day to day of a family of six. Which is where I come in. I clean, organize, haul, move, toss the unneeded, watch the two youngest while Maria get out of the house for a breather ... Essentially anything that needs to be done.

keel-ing over

I have a some-what-most-of-the-time job working at a feedlot North of Raymond.

Let's not get "feedlot" confused with "slaughter house", they are TOTALLY different beasts.

If cattle die at the feedlot, they are inedible. hahahaaa.

No really they are, it's just a really gross happenstance.

And if I don't laugh at about it, it'd make me sick.

My job is "cattle processor".

Which essentially means I ... do it all.

Push,

count, innoculate, implant,

brand, split, run gates,

record,

cauterize

...

I don't check for nuts though,

I have my limits.

Which I get grief to NO end for.

I feel like I'm violating those poor beasts.

Though maybe they should be thanking me!

*another set of amused laughter*

Editor, Please?

I'm writing a book. A one sided, totally biased book about my life. I'm not sure if I'm going to go entirely biographical or part whimsy part truth. I just ... I have a lot to say.
A lot of words that want to come out and tell people something.
A warning, a caution, a celebration.
I want to tell my tale in the words that I have thought, not those that others have given me.
Or told me to feel.
Or made me feel.
Let's all hold our breath and hope it's not NEARLY as long as the pictured book ... I don't think I'm THAT long winded.

Hit Home or Home Run?

You know how on the surface you're aware of stuff. Obvious stuff. Like your child's hair is blond, he has brown eyes, he's smart, he prefers you over anyone else in the world, he has a label ... Autistic.Then you're thrust into a situation that things have to be "reassessed" and "diagnosed" and "named".
You receive reports with phrases like "severely delayed range", "trouble with temporal and spatial relationships", "areas of weakness", "lacks both social and emotional reciprocity", "tactile defensiveness" and "great difficulty" written in them.
Your stomach cramps up.
Your eyes glaze over with what seems suspiciously like tears.
You wonder if everything you've done, all the work you've put in, the sacrifices you've made, the tears you've already shed have moved you forward at all.

Step back. Look at the good again.
He loves his sister, he adores his mother,he's actively interested in other people, he is incredibly intelligent, he's interested in the outside world, he's creative, he makes me laugh regularly ... He's brightened my life and made me more aware.

We can do this. Putting names and terminology to what already existed doesn't change who he is. It helps us move forward.

Hate vs. Hope

Days. I hate them. Not the actual time period, I have come to grips with that. Though there was a time that I detested anytime earlier than 2pm. Seemed ungodly, unfriendly and definitely undoable.

The Days I'm talking about now are specific days. BirthDays, HoliDays, Anniversaries.

I haven't always hated them. There was a time that I thought that Days were fun, exciting, something to anticipate with glee.

Then He changed that. It wasn't a sudden thing, it was many years in the process. Probably took that long because I am a creature of perpetual Hope. I Hope next year will be better. I Hoped he realizes Days are important to me even if he could care less. I Hoped something would change. I Hoped it'll mean more next time. I Hoped hoped hoped.

Now I Hate them. I Hate realizing that if it's going to mean something it's up to me. I Hate knowing that the only one it matters to is me. I Hate that I still have the enduring hope that something will be different this year.

I Hate ... until ...

Her
She changes that for me. Days matter to her. Moments are dear to her. Memories are cuddled, cherished, expounded and reclaimed. She doesn't let me Hate because She cares. She wants it to be special, so I make the effort. Write her silly poems to let her know I love her, tuck notes into her pockets so she knows I'm thinking about her, take her for lunch because it makes her glow with joy.

Him
He changes that for me. I am his world. I'm his touch stone. I am what makes his world peaceful and right. I hold him extra long so he knows where his center is, I love him extra hard so he never doubts what love feels like, I say it extra loud so he can't help but hear it. He brings me Hope.

Then there was no more Hate. Just Hope.

Stress. I didn't think about it much, though my body complained of it often (I break out in cold sores).
Stress. I didn't worry about it much, though my body took the toll of it (I gained 35 pounds).
Stress. I didn't talk about it much, though my heart felt the weight of it (I cried more than I knew I had tears).
Stress. I didn't consider it much, though my kids felt the impact more often than I felt comfortable with (I yelled at THEM when THEY were not the source of distress).

I made a huge change. Took a gigantic risk. Worried about the toll it would take on us all.

And came out the winner.
Don't get me wrong; I still have HUGE stress points in my life.
Will I make enough to pay all the bills this month?
How far can I make these groceries stretch?
Have I done the right thing for my kids?How do I get to where I want to be?
How do I lose these last 12 pounds? ... okay, that's not so much a stress as a point of vanity :)

But I find myself able to deal with it a lot more calmly. I haven't had one cold sore, lost a few pounds, only cried in sadness not frustration (ha, I say that like sadness is preferred to stress) and have only lost my patience with my kids a couple times when I really should have just had a nap.

It's amazing what you learn to cope with, what you learn to think is okay or at least livable.
Then you take a step, make a change, get a back bone and realize you're way braver, smarter and resourceful than you ever anticipated.

We're gonna be just fine.

Pick one, Any One

You know those people that have "plans" for their life? Whom have known since infancy what they anticipate for their future. Some how deep in their bones they know that what they are doing is it.

I'm not that person

at all.

When I was a kid I thought I wanted to be a nurse. Seemed like a very helpful, tidy type of profession. Then I discovered you'd have to clean up peoples urine, puke and any other bodily fluid they may leak. I don't do puke well

at all.

Then I moved onto an airline stewardess (at the time, that's what they were still called ... why'd that change anyway? Don't give me any hooie about equal rights either!) I liked their snazzy uniforms (uh, yeah I realize how ridiculous I am!), how they proudly did the pre-flight demonstration ... I was also under the impression that if you were a stewardess, you'd get to fly first class. However, mid way through this dream I was told I was too short. Now I realize that person was just a dream killer. Too late, already moved onto the next dream.

Okay, there really wasn't any dreams after that. I just kind of drifted between jobs. Enrolled in college ... and life happen. Then I became a mom. Now I'm reinvesting my thoughts into what I want to "be". WHO I want to be. Where I want to do those things. I'm in limbo right now, helping out an old friend ... but when I look like this at the end of the day(is that a death glimmer in my eye?) I realize this is NOT a long term solution...