Halifax....

Silence.

That's it. That's all I hear right now and I'm loving every minute of it. The girls are in bed, snuggled up for the night with their dolls. The boy is asleep in his crib, curled under his blanket and twitching in a dream. They're tired from the playground and the walk and the excitement of a new home, a new city.

There are older kids outside playing basketball, I'm watching them from my living room window while they laugh at each other's failed attempts at stealing the ball or missing the basket. A man is walking what looks like a German Shepard up the road and the lady the next house down is waving to him while she plants her flowers.

Almost feels like a twisted Norman Rockwell painting.

I'm finding it hard to believe I'm in a city at all while at the same time I'm loving the anonymity of it. There are still smiling faces and friendly hello's but no one cares to look twice. No drama. No expectations. I'm simply the new girl who moved into #84; she has three babies and a big tattoo. And the talk is over at that point.

This week has been one huge sigh of relief. I feel stronger, capable and resilient. I feel like I'm becoming myself again, laughing again, singing silly songs while I wash the dishes again.

I forgot what happy felt like. I'm positive I'm remembering.

After only a week I can honestly say that it will be a cold day in Hell before I would even consider going back to that Island....

Halifax is home.

Flower Chucking Glory

That bouquet left my hand with the typical comic book "swoosh" and landed with a very gentle "thud" before skidding across the gravel in the driveway. My arms went up in frustration and I stomped back to my step where the neighbours were waiting for me. I was met with the obligitory "are you okay?" and I just shook my head. I couldn't tell you if it was up and down or side to side but it was shaking.

The situation is comical to me now and I wish I could've seen myself but at the time I was so mad. My brain was swirling in a fit of "how dare you!" and ... well, that was about it. It would be so liberating to just blabber it all out here but I really don't want to. We'll just say that Big Cranky (the ex) came by with flowers, presumably from the kids for Mother's Day but a slight, quick conversation happened that ended in a way that made me feel as though I still had a special place, that I still had a piece of his heart in some weird way. It was nice to know that I was still cared about and thought about. A couple of weeks earlier I was shown something else by him and told a little story that made me think that all those years weren't in vain after all and that we both still held onto the good memories.

No so much.

I walked outside with him thinking I was walking him to his car, flowers in hand, smelling them and smiling, feeling special and like I was still an important part of his life aside from being the mother of his children. When I looked up, there she was. The Icky Pixie. Smiling at me in that too-young-to-understand coy "I've got your man bitch" kind of smile. He knows that after the name-calling, the midnight hang-ups and the emails of the two of them together from her and her friends, that I didn't want her around. I didn't want to see her, meet her, know her. Not yet, I'm not ready. Don't get me wrong, I don't want him back but seeing the girl who was (from what I am told and don't know if it's true) sleeping with my fiance while I was pregnant with his son, hurt like a sonofabitch. Even if it's not true and he didn't cheat, I find it odd that they were together in a serious relationship only a week after I left ... fishy fishy.

Insert Alanis Morrisette here: It was a slap in the face, how quickly I was replaced ...

I'm standing there feeling ambushed by reality. My own little world crumbled and my newly found confidence dwindled away. My self-control supply depleted and I gripped those flowers to keep from screaming. I looked at my neighbour and she looked at me, we were both thinking the same thing and I turned on my heel, ran my chubby ass to that driveway as they were pulling out and swwwwoooossshh. It was slow motion, watching those flowers fly through the air and plop on the gravel. Oddly enough, I watched the bouquet and not their reaction. I can see them flying, petals falling off and floating to the ground below them. Beautiful at first and then falling apart, much like our relationship had been. That analogy is almost ironic isn't it ...

Maybe I would've been less angry if it was any other day and the visit was for any other reason. Maybe it would have been easier if I knew what I was going to see. Maybe I would have reacted better if I had been given the chance to decide when my first glimpse of her would be. If I had known she was there that day I would have declined the visit until another time, when I could gather myself and be a little bit more open to the idea of meeting. In any case, showing up like that, saying what he said to me and doing what he did only to have her in that car waiting was inappropiate at best. That kind of surprise would only lead to an emotionally charged situation and I honestly don't know what either one of them were thinking.

Now that I think about it ... they're lucky I still had enough self-control that I didn't pick up a rock. But let me tell you, I have my biffin' arm all warmed up and I'm ready for the big Flower Chucking Competition. And, in an odd sense, I feel relieved. The flowers are in the dumpster and it felt good to put them there, watching them fall apart as I dropped them in felt like letting go. Sometimes getting that proverbial kick in the teeth makes you realize that being alone isn't all that bad, makes you take stock in yourself (again) and realize that rebuilding your life on your own can be an amazing journey. We all do stupid things like chucking flowers but in all honesty, I don't think I was throwing them at the Crank and the Pixie, I was throwing them at my own hurt and the situation as a whole.

With that said, I'm off and running to clean my house. Smile on my face and a skip in my step. Will I throw flowers again? Only if it feels as good as the last time ...

COOTIES!!

That’s right people, you heard it here first:  there is a rampant Cootie infection that is sweeping the globe!  Just remember, to be properly diagnosed, you must seek the advice of a child aged five to nine as they have the most acute sensitivity to the Cootie virus.

So, here’s the deal on Cooties:

Cooties is a highly contagious virus that is usually passed between children during recess at school, normally on the playground.  The two strains, male and female, are passed interchangeably between both boys and girls and so, not just one particular sex carries the virus.  A male will carry Cootie Type-M and be highly susceptible to Cootie Type-F which is carried by females who will, in turn, be highly susceptible to the male Cootie strain.  It was previously believed that Cooties was carried by a female host and only infected males but research over the last ten years has proven otherwise.

However, recent studies have shown that adults can now carry the Cootie virus.  The source for this study is none other than my own daughter, Miss Lily who, at the age of six, is at the height of her Cootie detection sensitivity. This information has also been passed to her from other highly aware children in her school.

The Cootie contagion is both airborne and waterborne, as well as having the capability to pass through the mucus membranes.  Hand-washing, while ideal for the impeding of other ailments such as colds and flu, is unnecessary as it does not kill the Cootie virus.  The virus can be passed through direct or indirect contact with a member of the opposite sex.  Simply sharing a couch or loveseat, using the monkey bars in a playground, a hug (ahem, my apparent way to catch them, not the couch as originally suspected), walking by or even talking to someone of the opposite sex. 

Symptoms of Cooties are varied and sometimes hard to diagnose.  In young girls and women it can show as almost flu-like symptoms, weight loss, the watching of 1980’s Brat Pack movies such as the Breakfast Club or Pretty in Pink and drawing hearts over their i’s when writing.  These can also be confused with an actual flu (like me) or the onset of another disease commonly known as “Fascinated Infatuation”.  Older females may also begin paying more attention to their attire, hairstyle and hygiene.

With male victims of Cooties the onset may come on the same way as females but with slight differences.  The younger males may turn toward almost violent behaviour towards girls such as teasing, pinching or knocking books off of their desk.  It could also result in young boys wanting to spend a little more time with other boys watching Transformers and discussing the possibility of Cootie infestation as well as the drawing of “boobies” in the back of their schoolbooks.  The aversion to girls of their age group is not uncommon in the beginning stages of a Cootie infection.  Older boys or men may also begin paying more attention to hygiene and clothing coupled with an attempt to spend more time closer to the opposite sex.  Again, another symptom related to Fascinated Infatuation.

There is a guard against this dangerous infection, an inoculation that will provide a lifetime of Cootie protection from both Type-M and Type-F Cooties.  It is a simple vaccination that is best performed by a close friend of the same sex.  To perform this, have your friend draw two circles on your arm followed by placing a dot in each circle.  During this process you should both recite the following lyric:

Circle, Circle

Dot, Dot

Now you’ve (I’ve) had your (my) Cootie shot!

That is all the protection you need from this incessant bug.  If, however, you have already been infected by a case of the Cooties, you should see a local Cootie immune child immediately for a Cootie-ectomy.  This procedure is too graphic to detail in this short informative yet Cootie-ridden blog.

In closing I would like to wish you all the best of luck with this recent global Cootie outbreak.  Hopefully none of the infections will be as severe as the one I apparently have although I am absolutely convinced I have the damn flu.

Click here for an important Cootie PSA!

Something to Think About …

I’m going to write something a little more serious today.

I went out last night with a good friend and some people that are close to her.  We went to see a friend’s band play at a small local pub and wanted nothing more to do there except have a couple of drinks and enjoy the music, support our friend and his band.  However, I am absolutely appalled at some of the disgraceful and disgusting behaviour that occurred during the time that we were there.

I don’t normally consider myself a naive person but I think that there are some things that I just don’t believe can still exist anymore on certain levels.  Pride in being a bigot and holding onto discriminatory ideals being one of them.  I know that there is still a lot of hate in this world but I was under the impression (or the hope) that the tides were changing and that minds were opening.  I may have this thought because I was lucky enough to never be exposed to true violent hatred towards another person simply because of how they identify themselves – gay, straight, black, white, etc.

Don’t get me wrong here, I’m not totally in the dark and have come across racists and bigots throughout my entire life.  I have been exposed to their hatred and unkindness on many occasions but I have also seen them shut their mouths and keep their opinions to themselves for the sake of keeping the peace and knowing that what they say or do isn’t going to change anything anyway.  The people of this ignorant mentality that I have known in my life have all kept to themselves and never acted the way they boasted when push came to shove or when given the opportunity.  I have heard the slurs, the jokes, the name-calling and, in all honesty, everyone has a twinge of pre-judgement in them.  It is. unfortunately, human nature to feel that way.  However, I think that the ability to put that aside and get to know a person despite what that silly thought in the back of your mind is telling you is also part of human nature.

Last night I saw something completely different.  I saw pure, unadulterated hate.  There is no other word to describe the words or the actions that I had the displeasure of witnessing but “hate”.

Here’s the thing:  two of the girls in the little group of friends that I went out with last night were a couple, partners or girlfriends or whatever you want to call their relationship.  No one in our group gives a shit.  They’re good people and, just like the rest of us, were just enjoying the music.  We all kept together or broke off into pairs for bathroom breaks, dancing or going outside to smoke.  No one was bothering anyone, just enjoying an awesome night with fantastic music from very talented musicians.  At some point a slur was uttered towards our friends.  I’m not sure if it was in the pub or outside where people went to smoke but it happened.

“Dirty fuckin’ dyke.”

That might not sound like much to some but it does when comes out of the mouth of someone whose aim it is to hurt and degrade another person.  It didn’t stop there.  When my friend and I stumbled upon the situation outside it was a heated battle of words.  One spewing hate and insanity in a drunken sectarian rant, grabbing and pushing the object of her disgust while the other, our friend, trying to defend herself and her partner from a flurry of words and attempted, sometimes connecting, slaps and grabs.  I couldn’t believe that there were people who were coming to the defence of this horrible display.  The group we were with split and tried to calm the situation but then one of the worst things happened:

The bouncer at this establishment came outside, threatening to ban these girls from the premises permanently.  No, not the instigators of this fiasco but the those who were the ones forced to defend themselves.  This bouncer, in his wisdom, thought it would be better to throw out quiet patrons rather than one who did attempted to start an altercation and effectively “gay bash” with verbal and physical assault.  He admitted that he knew what was happening and just didn’t care.  I never thought I would see such blatant discrimination defended by someone who is supposed to be impartial.  Throw out the troublemakers is his job but in this case, he preferred to keep them there.  In the end we all walked away.  This is a situation that could have gotten out of control very quickly with a lot of repercussions for everyone involved.

I must say that I am proud that these girls acted with knowledge that no matter what, nothing was going to change these people.  They walked away with their heads high and hands together, the way it should be.  There is no reason for them to hide.  They have my utmost respect after seeing their display of common sense and strength.  They walked away from a very heated and repugnant situation that would make even the best of us want to stay and fight.  I find myself disillusioned in this small town by allowing such things to occur on an apparent regular basis.

Aren’t we all adults?  Aren’t we all just trying to make a good life for ourselves and our families?  Is it really anyone’s business who we choose to make our life with? 

I was raised with the knowledge that love was love and that’s what mattered most.  I just wish that everyone else could feel the same way and this sort of nonsense could become a less frequent occurrence.

Resurrection Adventures

It’s Easter.  My house is full of noise and chocolate.  There are a couple of dolls and one hell of a kick-ass car set but for the most part, it’s all chocolate

I started out my Saturday in a flurry of laziness.  I shirked my dishes and my laundry, just stared at it sitting on top of the kitchen table begging to be folded and the counter pleading to be shoved into some hot water.  I could do nothing but roll my eyes and stir my tea.  I needed a day off.  I managed to get the babies and I dressed and washed which was a good thing considering Maggpie called for some impromptu shopping.

Shopping was fun for a change.  Didn’t seem quite like the battle I usually have but then again, I wasn’t alone.  We hit Wally-World and found absolutely nothing and so, opted to explore the vast expanse of" “The Mall” which turned out to be a lot better.  We really only went on an adventure to one particular store and that’s where I found what I was looking for.  I also found a Christian Audigier handbag that I would love love love to have but really can’t justify the expense right now.  Maybe I could write it off as a fashion crisis?  No?  I didn’t think so.  But c’mon people, CHRISTIAN AUDIGIER HANDBAG!!  Need I say more???

Okay, I’ll stop.

After the big one stop shopping trip the “The Mall”, we meandered our way to a new restaurant in said mall.  It all started out great with crayons, little colouring books and ended with the Meatball throwing his chicken nuggets all over the place.  He discovered he can throw and he’s got quite an arm on him which makes things a little difficult to control.  Random baseball pitched chicken nuggets followed by an empty plastic cup.  Fun.  Honestly, it is rather hilarious but we’re not going to let on to the Meatball that we think that way.  I think I’d like him to grow out of this one.

Saturday ended well with three babies happily going to bed.  Meatball fell asleep almost right way while the girls talked and laughed about what the Easter Bunny was going to bring them.  They were so excited and had to get up to pee many, many times.  I’m positive that it was just to check to see if he was there yet.  My girls are just like me, always peeking at the surprise.

Mommy’s Saturday night was just as good.  Maggpie came for wine and an old friend came for company.  However, waking up Sunday morning was a different story.  I realized that you shouldn’t take a day off from sweeping when you wake up to find a French fry on your bedroom floor from supper the night before.  That’s just highly embarrassing and oddly humourous.  I found that at seven in the morning while the girls were hollering at me that they needed to pee and couldn’t hold it.  I did my half-asleep run to the room and took them down and got the Meatball out of his crib.

At this point insanity ensued.  The damn bunny was here and he left presents.  The Easter egg hunt was a huge success and the presents were even bigger.  Simple things, small things and yet, such a treat.  They had their breakfast and dressed themselves in their new clothes then had a couple of treats.  Not much.  I asked if they wanted more and they asked for a banana instead … they make me wonder.

Once the extravaganza of destroying the living room and me discovering that I need an engineering degree to open a Barbie Doll, the babies all went to visit Nanny and Big Cranky…

That’s when my adventure began …