PREGNANT!!

Now that I've got your attention, I have to say that it's not me. There is a pregnancy happening in my house and that's HoneyCat, my little blonde kitty who sneaks out my windows for rendezvous with her tomcat lovers. She is supposed to stay in the house but when I moved to this new apartment she ran away for almost three weeks before I grabbed her out of the bushes and dragged her home.

After flea treatments and deworming and, luckily, no signs of pregnancy she seemed content to stay in the house with her sister/lesbian lover, Sasha. Yeah, they take care of each other when they're in heat, it's quite odd. So, I have incestuous gay kitties. However, that's neither here nor there right now. What's the main thing is that HoneyCat figured out she can come in and out of the windows when I open them to let fresh air in. The little brat didn't listen to me when we had the discussion about birth control. You know, typical of today's youth and their "it'll never happen to me" attitude. Well, it happened to her.

Now I have a cat in her first 3-5 weeks of pregnancy. Her belly is starting to balloon under her ribs, her nipples are getting large and pink, she's extra sookie and lovable AND I'm starting to be able to feel little golf balls in her belly. Now I have to prepare for a pregnancy and birth but I honestly have no clue as how to assist a cat through this life-altering time of her life. She's blessed to be a mother but she's not ready and neither am I.

We made a huge decision together based on poor HoneyCat's abilities and readiness to be a parent. She decided that she may only have the strength to raise her kittens for about eight weeks and, as a result, we are going the route of adoption. Abortion was discussed but she doesn't believe in it so we didn't even bother contacting the proper experts, IE: the vet. I'm happy for her decision to raise these kittens through their formative weeks but I would support her through any decision, including a kitty abortion.

Alright, I'm completely humanizing my cat and that's not always a good thing. Bottom line is that my sneaky feline got out of my window and got knocked up.

Anyone want a kitten??

Frozen doors, cold walks and barium...

I walked out the door today and it was c-c-c-cold. The sun was shining so I was a little misled as to the temperature outside so I decided that it would be a good idea to walk Miss Lily to school and then head down to my "Great Adventure". The Great Adventure meaning an Upper GI series to help diagnose the revolt in my belly (reference blog post: http://blueallieboo.blogspot.com/2008/12/body-revolution-epic-battle.html). What a wonderful way to start a day!!

Miss Lily and I slept in this morning so we ran around and got ready to leave. She ate her breakfast while I brushed her hair and we both got dressed in a tizzy, throwing on whatever was on the top of the clean clothes pile. Little Miss and Little Man Meatball stayed the night with Big Cranky because of my test this morning so I didn't have to worry about rushing them along. If they had been home, there wouldn't have been any hope to get out the door on time.
Anyway, Miss Lily and I got our winter protection together and went to go out the door but, to my suprise and dismay due to already having Miss late for school, was that the door was frozen shut. So there we were, Miss and I standing there trying to figure out how to get out of the house. Then, I saw a lightbulb over my little girl's head and with a big smile she says, "Mommy, get the blow dryer and melt the door!"

My baby is brilliant!! That's exactly what we did. She held the blowdryer and I yanked and yanked on that damn door which I'm starting to consider to be one of the bains of my existance. I've been looking into becoming a Buddhist so this thing is going to be on my list of things that I need to put out of my mind. Yes, I do think about that door quite a bit, it's scary when you're stuck in the house but then I was thinking about coming home and what would happen if we got stuck on the step. What would we do then?? I don't carry a blowdryer wherever I go, it's only a small purse and I have it crammed with papers and wallets (yes, that's supposed to be plural).
We did get the door open and off we went. I dropped Miss Lily off at school and I headed down to the hospital so I could drink yucky stuff and get x-rayed to death. It was very Arctic-esque out there today and it didn't matter how bundled I was, there was no way I could fight that kind of cold. -30 degree windchill and there I was, like a complete boob, walking in it again. Doesn't matter, I wanted to clear my mind before I got there because all these tests are scary for me now. It's getting closer to finding out what's going on with my evil belly and, in my typical fashion, my brain goes to worst possible scenario.

The walk wasn't too bad actually, cold and bitter but sunny and oddly pretty. I made it to the hospital and got myself registered, put on my beautiful johnny shirt and robe, walked into the waiting area and sat. I looked around and marvelled at how the brilliant orange plastic chairs set off the decor by complimenting the plushy, artichoke green ones and how the out of place wingback brown faux-leather chair with the tear in the seat hid itself in shame in the corner pulled it all together.

The nurse came out with that knowing look on her face, the impending doom and handed me to large cups full of thick, white, chaulky nastiness that smelled oddly good. She told me to drink it as fast as I could and let her know when I was finished. That was the hardest thing I ever drank, it was horrible...it was barium. Ick. After that fiasco that I don't even want to attempt to describe, I had an x-ray every fifteen minutes for the next two and half hours. It was crazy and boring and a little weird to be sitting there waiting to lay on my belly, hold my breath and have pictures taken of my insides...wheee!!

When it was all over I got dressed and left the hospital, walked home in the freezing cold but not before checking out deals in the Bargain Shop where I bought two good books for the kids for less than four bucks. Then I left and got Miss Lily at school and off to home. We got in the house, stripped off our winter clothes and then crawled under the blanket on my bed to read our new books and keep warm. Little Miss and Little Man Meatball came home after supper and my babies all kissed and told each other that they missed one another. It was an okay day, not bad at all.

Spending the weekend with just Lily and then watching those little bugger reconnect reminded me of the important things. Thinking about all the possible results that could come of these tests made me think that I need to cherish them as often as possible.

Open Discussion: Prison Pen Pals

Yup. That's what I'm writing about today is penpals in prison. I always found it sort of odd that women (and sometimes men) actively seek out and find people who are in prison, for any amount of time and for any crime, in order to specifically be their penpal and, as I've been finding with my limited online research, build romantic relationships with them. Actually, building a romantic relationship seems to be the most common goal of people seeking these specific type of penpals. It's not the truth in every case and some people do it to make a friend, to have the option of old-fashioned snail mail communication. This is my main reason for doing it. I figure that it never hurts to make a friend and it never hurts to keep lines of communication open, practice my penmanship and keep the post office in business.

Is there safety in this?? Definitely. Well for the most part there is safety in it and the safety is subjective, something that the person doing the initial contact has to take into their own consideration and decide for themselves if they're comfortable with the person they are about to contact and what they may have done. I guess it would be depend on with whom you are corresponding and the reasons that they are where they are. However, I do believe in reform for those who want it and I'm going to make a very uneducated psychological deduction here in believing that having someone waiting for you with an open mind as to your successful rehabilitation can work to someone's advantage in being successful when released.

But back to the safety issue; I seriously believe that it depends on the situation, for example: sexual assaults would be a huge red flag and other crimes could be held and considered according to circumstance. These people have already been through a trial and sentencing so it isn't up to us to pass a second judgement. I think that if you're comfortable enough to pick up a pen and tell someone "on the inside" (if that's even the correct jargon, excuse my naivety) secrets of your life, you're going to have to deal with the consequences if things go wrong, if anything.

Likewise, there will also be safety issues for those incarcerated penpals. They have to be curious about who would be writing to them and their reasons for it. I'm sure that there have been many occurances of inmates being taken advantage of, lied to or misled. I'm sure that there are trust issues not only from what may occur from trying to learn, know and grow with a person that you only get to communicate with through letters and pictures plus the occasional phone call but also the lifestyle that is led in prison and past experiences bringing about an almost immediate mistrust. These girls and boys also have a lot to lose by putting their hard-earned trust and understanding into someone they cannot physically touch or look into their face to gauge their honesty.

So...I have no idea where I'm going with this post. I decided to write to someone today who is in prison and as a result became my usual overanalytical self and did more thinking than necessary. I now know how to get in contact with inmates on death row -- how exciting! No, I'm not writing to someone on death row but someone within our own country who was introduced (if you could even use that word in this case) to me by a good friend. It'll be nice I think to write something that is tangible and I can hold in my hand. I'm sure it'll be exciting to wait for the envelope in the mail. I honestly, even through my analyzing and researching the fundamentals and psychological implications of having a prison penpal, can't see anything wrong with it. There is never anything wrong with making a new friend.

So, let me know what you guys think: do you think that having a penpal who is incarcerated a bad or detrimental thing??

Wagon Wheel & Smarties

I have groceries. Yup, I finally broke down and went to the grocery store and you'll never guess what I bought:

Wagon Wheels

Yes, I am a dork and you did read that correctly. It says "Wagon Wheels". I'm sure everyone my age has a bit of nostalgia for those things. Round graham wafers with marshmallow smooshed in the middle and covered with yummy chocolate. It conjures images of school lunches and recess treats. You must remember sneaking into the cupboard with the "lunch food" that you weren't allowed to touch and stealing a Wagon Wheel and run outside with it, hide under or in something and just enjoy.

Alright, maybe I was the only one.

I came home with my prize in my groceries and was excited to show Miss Lily. To my surprise, she didn't really care. I was shocked as I stood there holding one of the best lunch treats in the whole world, aside from pudding and cigarettes (don't ask) and she was more excited over the apples and the whole grain bagels for breakfast. Oh, to say I was disappointed was an understatement. I know my face fell and my hopes for all childhood were dashed at that moment. Okay, so that's a little dramatic but you get the picture.

I made her look at me as I shook the beautiful red box at her and told her that they were soooo delicious and such a treat that she should be excited that I bought them for her for her lunches or recess snack. She just looked at me, doe-eyed and knowing that her mother was merely having a fit of insanity. I tried to explain that when I was a little girl they were one of my favourite treats and that it was nice to see that she could have a treat like Mommy did when she was little.

She just kept staring at me like I was going to start force feeding her a Wagon Wheel. I finally breathed and stopped my wonton rant about all things great and Wagon Wheel and put the box on the table with the rest of the groceries that were waiting for me to put them away. I shrugged at her mispent youth and quietly put my stuff away. My little girl had turned on her heel and went to her room to finish putting toys away and get out of range of her Wagon Wheel obsessed mother.

Then...a blessing....Miss Lily appeared in the kitchen about ten minutes later, after I was finished putting away my treasures and turned on the kettle. Those big, blue eyes looked at me and asked me the redeeming question:

"Mommy, did you get any Smarties?"

Anonymous

Anonymous said...

How many "Real" friends do you have now? Maybe 1?

January 19, 2009 10:23 AM

My father once told me that doing something as an anonymous person only proved yourself to be a coward. I'm referring to a comment left on my previous post that was left only by one of two people. The safe bet would be one of the two people that I left behind. Even though one line, it was written to be malicious and proved the caliber of person that I have ejected from my life. I had already blocked/deleted them from everything they could use to contact me and so, they chose to do it on a public forum for which they know has a good following of readers in hopes of embarrassing or hurting me. This doesn't hurt me, not a bit but makes me want to use it as a way to show how much I trust and care for the honest and "Real" friends, family that surrounds me.

This is my opportunity now to talk about my real friends. I have them, I adore them, I love these girls like they are my sisters, my chosen family. They have their own quiet, silent lives and have also learned the lessons that I am learning now about honesty and trust. That it's better to have few friends who will stand behind you through anything that a multitude of friends with whom you could never become close. There is distance in numbers and I know that even though I craved to be surrounded by a group of friends and have a lot of people in my life, that really isn't what it's all about.

It's not about phone conversations about who is sleeping with who, who is dating, who lost their job, what she said, what he said -- gossip, lies and rumours. It's about the person who held your hand and cried with you when the doctor tells you that the baby you're carrying has passed away. It's about the person who knows your heart is broken and calls from 500 miles away just to tell you a joke to make you smile. It's about the person who tells you that you're being an asshole when you take your bad day out on the wrong person. It's the ones who walk into your house without knocking and greet you with smiles and hugs. It's the people who you can sit with in complete silence for hours and still be comfortable. The ones who know they can call you at 3am for advice, to cry or to laugh because they're lonely.

Play cards for hours and forgive you when you cheat.

Bring the clothes back that they borrow.

Be the only people you trust to be the guardian of you children.

Stand behind you on the most painful paths our lives take us on, including trying to figure out what gastly things may have happened to your own children.

They do this without blame, without inconsistencies, without running to others with a hot little story about you for the rumour mill. There is mutual respect, understanding and forgiveness for each other's shortcomings.

So, you see...I'm winding down my life, talking stock of the important things and people that encompass me. I have chosen my family, my friends as the ones who I love and admire the most and who have trusted me as much as I have trusted them.

So, as for having one real friend? Who cares how many you have. As long as they're a positive part of who you are, who cares how many there are.

Funny things we heal in the cold and the snow...

I put on my hat, looked in the mirror and decided that I had all the fly-away hairs sufficiently tucked in and hidden. I walked out of the washroom, turning to the left and creeped into my kids' room to take one last peek before I left. They were fine and snoring away, perfect. I walked into my bedroom where my babysitter was playing games with her friend, gave them my cell phone number, the password for the computer and any other info they'd need...hockey game and then my friend's place, just call the cell.

I checked the weather about half an hour before. -18 degrees but -27 with the windchill and here I was going for a walk. I'm starting to believe there is something seriously wrong with me. I left the room with the sitters and grabbed my coat, buttoned up, threw on my sneakers for the walk even though they really didn't match what I was wearing and left. Walked up the stairs in my porch, opened my door and stepped out into the freezing cold, all the while hoping that I didn't slip on the ice and break my neck/arm/leg/ankle or any of the above.

I needed to get out of the house. Staring at the same walls day in and day out isn't good for anyone's mental stability. It's been a long hard few months with the prospect of the next few being just as long and just as hard. I need a clear head, an open mind and a good, deep breath. The air immediately froze my breath and all my hot air turned into a frosty exhale. I smiled at it and walked off my concrete step, cutting through the back yard to the main road where I could walk to the hockey game. I wanted to skip at the prospect of being able to go for a walk all alone but there were things I wanted to think about.

I thought. I thought a lot. At the same time I pulled out my trust cell phone and called a friend to keep me company through the cold. It's funny how walking in the freezing cold can put some things into perspective and the dark and silence can actually shine the light on some of the bullshit and nonsense that happens in your life.

I recently said goodbye to two people who I thought were friends, who had been with me through a lot. However, these people had lives that were surrounded by drama and confusion which I was getting sucked into. My goals were never more than to raise my kids in peace and quiet, no time for highschool issues and gossip and lies. Things happened though and this is what happened, I was drawn into foolishness and webs of insanity that came with them. As much as I care for them, as much as I love them, my life isn't where they're at.

Things happened within my home that eventually led to the downfall of one friendship. So be it. I need to protect my family and if I lost her in the process than that has to be chalked up as being a casualty of trying to set things right for the people who matter to me the most. My children.

The other friendship was lost when I realized that she couldn't hold a confidence. That telling her something and joking around turned into her twisting what I said and gossiping to the point where it made me look like I was trying to ruin someone else's character. It couldn't be further from the truth. The story that came out were not the words that I had spoken. It caused a lot of trouble for a lot of people and left me stuck in the middle. Exactly where I did not want to be and somewhere that I did not position myself to be. She said that she was the one closing the door but I had closed it from the moment I found out about the lie she told.

I opened the door to Tim Horton's in town and wiggled my way to the counter, ordered a cup of tea. I rooted through my change and finally paid my $1.54, thanked the server and walked out the back door with a piping hot cup of tea, two cream and three sugar, in my hands. I started walking in the cold, watching my breath, briefly trying to blow an "O" and laughing at my silliness. I walked through the back of town, past the movie shop and towards the rink. My conclusions had been drawn, my breath of fresh air had happened and I gained some clarity.

There were two negative influences removed from my life. I wasn't choking and drowning in someone else's relationship drama or someone else's gossip and rumours. I wasn't being bombarded with "I had her creep his facebook and tell me about his new girlfriend" or "can you believe she did this and this who she's with and then I followed her here". It feels good. It's quiet, it's relaxed, it's nice. I love these girls dearly but we have come to an impass in the relationship we shared. There is no going back from the issues that occured and we are, obviously, at different points in our lives. Do I wish them well? Somewhat. I don't want to see harm come to either of them but I do hope that karma runs it's course. As of now, I'm at peace with the decision to not have these people in my life. It feels good to limit myself to those that I know are true friends, my girls who have become my sisters over the years.

I said goodbye to the friend on the phone and walked into the rink. It was warmer and exponentially more comfortable. I shook off the cold and walked straight to the doors to the ice and the bleachers. I stood there and took a deep breath again, feeling oddly at peace. I watched the boys on the ice fight, chase the puck and play a good game that, at this time of their lives, was all consuming. I was standing and watching through those doors, listening to the bustle in the canteen beside me just enjoying having people around me but not necessarily with me. The noise and the laughter was enough.

I had arrived at the beginning of the second period and enjoyed my spot until that buzzer rang. I walked back up the short steps toward the main door and ran into my old friend. I couldn't help but smile at him before he even noticed that I had arrived. What I was looking was uncomplicated, comfortable and familiar. Easy conversation, easy silence. I know that doesn't make sense but sometimes a walk that helps you let go also helps you see what's been right in front of your eyes the whole damn time -- sometimes our real friends are hidden in their own quiet, silent lives.

I think cold walks and hockey are my two new favourite things....

UFC & babbling nonsense

I should be in bed considering it's 2:23 AM but, I'm not. I was up watching UFC 93 tonight and I'm a little disappointed. I wanted to start screaming at the TV like a man or a fool (I suppose they're typically the same thing) for most of those buggers to stop dancing and just fight. I know, it's strategy and composure and all that nonsense but come on people, sometimes you just want to see a good brawl. Is that too much to ask?? I actually didn't watch the whole thing, figured it was getting late and had to let my sitter get home.

All in all it was a good night. I think that the walk outside in -27 degree weather to a local rink to take in a hockey game, a trip back into the freezing cold to a freezing cold car and a drive to enjoy some UFC with a very old friend did me a world of good. Wait. Back that up a little. My friend isn't very old, we've just known each other a very long time, I would guess around 10 years. There, that's settled. The night ended with us both dozing in our respective chairs, flicking channels, laughing at the names of the porn that were on and then back to -27 to get my ass home to my babies. Out of the house. Into the night. Surrounded by noise. I must say that I feel a lot better.

I still say those buggers in UFC should brawl more. I live for the "Ground N' Pound"....oh my. I should possibly seek psychiatric help for that one.

I guess I reaffirmed my being a Fanatic for the sport even though I am complaining a little right now. I don't get to watch it as much since I moved due to the lack of cable and I think I was holding high hopes for the reintroduction to a blood sport. Boo.

I have one thing to say here: Let's get Fedor out of Bodog and into UFC for one little fight in order to show these babies how it's done....