The Danger In Starting A Fire

Moving is stupid. Never do it.

Over the last few months, I’ve gone through a plethora of emotions ranging from euphoric to miserable. This past week has just been beyond stupid. I’ve considered closing my blog because I wasn’t comfortable writing about my feelings & I sometimes wonder if I’m using my writing because I’m rather lonely out here in Cow Province & I miss regular chats with friends back home. I had this grand vision that I would get out here & my editor would love my work, I’d land a full time gig & my new gym would be as awesome as my old gym & everything would be perfect.

Yeah, nope. 

Instead I’ve been miserable at my gym, hating my job & trying to overcome years of mistrust in a day. So, I’m homesick & sometimes contemplate just moving home in the spring (my friend Damanda is sending a U-Haul). But, I realize I’m not giving myself any time to adjust to anything. Like, at all. 

I’m such an ambitious little creature, that I assume it’ll be easy to adjust when most people say it takes a year to adjust to a new community. I get better at trusting people, but it’s a process & I can’t rush that process. I’ll warm up to the gym, it’ll take time. There are some cool people & some not cool people. But I’ll get used to it. It’ll never be as awesome as my old gym, but still good. My new job isn’t journalism, but again, new audience, it’s a process. 

I keep trying to rush to get to the part where this feels like home, but it’s gonna take time. The difference is I’m going to allow myself that time to get used to how things are done here. If you’ve ever switched provinces/states, you’ll understand. Some days it just feels weird. And I just want to fit in with the cow people (maybe I should stop calling them cow people). But I realize it’s not as easy for some people. And I’ve got to allow myself time to get used to my life here. It’s okay to feel homesick. It’s okay to feel lonely. It’s okay to miss my gym & my friends & DECENT DAMN PIZZA. WHY IS THERE NO GOOD PIZZA?! But I kept trying to think it was wrong to go through periods of sadness. My birthday was a great day, but I’ve been lonely ever since. It was the first year it wasn’t a clusterfuck, which was nice. But it was also the first year I didn’t have belated drinks with Melissa, or dinner with Rena & Damanda. And it was just kind of sad. And over the past few days, as things have been sucky, I realized how much I missed having nearby friends who could watch the older kids while I took the littlest to the Voodoo Witch Doctor, as she’s allergic to every medication ever made, or Bree hugs. Or the fact that people here call shopping carts baskets. NO. THEY ARE SHOPPING CARTS.  But I didn’t want to adjust to the culture shock. I wanted to be awesome. Now, I’m going to focus on making Cow Province my home…& maybe stop calling it Cow Province. 

***However, I have only seen geese once, so good job Cow Province****

  
Same with everything else, I need to give myself time to open up, time to build trust, time to get comfortable. And it’s okay to want to do that slowly. It’s okay to not want to rush. It’s okay to have moments of doubt or fear. All of these things are fine. People who love me understand why I’m a bit batty & love me anyway. They get it & will let me muddle through on my own until I get to a place where I can fully trust people the way I want to. But it takes time. 

  
The good thing about time is we have a lot of it. Every day is another day to make awesome. So, that’s what I will do. Make tomorrow awesome. And the next day. And the next. But the only way to make this place home is to work on it. So, I’m going to put up curtains, pictures & BUY A DAMN KITCHEN TABLE NEXT WEEK. I’m very excited about my table. And each day I wake up I’ll feel better & better about living here, until one day, it’s home. And everything else will come in time, so I won’t rush the process anymore. 

  

The Document Speaks for Itself

A lot of times, when I write about my life, I get weirded out. 

There are always valid reasons for my weirded out-ness, such as “I hate talking about myself in a way that makes me feel vulnerable.” There is the “people I know read this shit & will text me about it or they’ll think I’m totes crazy.” I also feel like I spend a ridiculous amount of time writing lately because I am fretfully lonely for my Windsor/Sarnia/London friends. I’ve made some rad friends here so far, but I find myself missing home, so I use my blog as sort of a security blanket. This brings about the concern that people would rather read about me than engage in conversation or stay connected to me, like I’m some sort of zoo animal. Yes, I analyze literally everything.

I have a point, I promise.

I’ve decided that since I’m just going to keep using my one outlet as my way of feeling less isolated from almost everything that I love, I may as well use it to be a better person. So, I’m being more open about all the things that make me less than perfect MHC. Why? Because I want to be a better person. I want to be some kind of hybrid of the person I am and the person I was before. Still bad ass, but nicer. I really feel like the whole purpose to being alive is to grow and evolve and be kinder and gentler to our fellow man, etc.

Anywho, I wrote a whole bunch of stuff about why I suck at trusting people. I guess that was the first step to me actually being able to do it. But again, I felt weird because people I know read this crap. People I love. People who mean a great deal to me. And my mother (waves to my mother). I don’t want the people I love most to read about my thoughts on my blog. I want them to talk to me (although my good friend Gleason thinks it might be good for people to read my weird thoughts, it’ll help them understand my mind better and therefore make those relationships stronger). I don’t want them to think that I don’t trust them or that they need to coddle me or make me feel secure, because I don’t want that.  I honestly just write stuff because I feel happy when I write stuff! When anything bothers me in the slightest, I write about it & feel better! It’s like an extension of who I am as a person or something. Also, people I do not care for in the slightest read my blog (waves to ex husband) & I don’t want them to make my attempts to grow & become a more confident person fuel their narcissism. I began to worry. People I know read this. People I care about read this. I do not want people I care about to get upset that I am writing about my life in great detail because I’m lonely and homesick and I write about stuff to fill the void. Instead, I got texts from my friends, who said they could relate. They feel the same way sometimes. They struggle with trusting people. They’re waiting for the other shoe to drop. They just didn’t know how to tell people without feeling crazy. Suddenly, I felt very sane. Which was nice. Thank you, fellow crazy people for helping me feel united in our crazy. 

  
But I guess the best feedback I got was from my friend Gleason. He basically told me how I’m always putting the needs of my daughters, my friends, my lover, my mother over my own and it’s perfectly okay to feel insecure or like all the things that went wrong before will again. But I’m very lucky to have the ability to be self aware enough to start to fix the things about my personality I want to improve upon without it destroying my life in the process. So, I should be proud of myself for having a talent that makes others think and want to improve. And I can appreciate how fortunate I am to have an amazing family, a loving boyfriend and great friends and find happiness on days where there are none. By being able to see all of the wonderful things I have helps me continue to be positive when things aren’t and he’s lucky to have me as a friend. All of these things are totally rad.

So, thanks fellow crazy people for reading my blog & telling me that I’m not crazy. Pretty sure I am, but I’m pretty sure that’s okay. Because even though I go through periods of loneliness or rejection (by newspapers), that’s all part of life & I can turn all of those things into positives to improve who I am. Yay! 

And if all else fails, I provide y’all with entertainment. 

Also here is this penguin. You literally cannot be sad while looking at a penguin

But You Won’t

I’ve struggled to talk about this with anyone but my best friend Melissa & friend Paul, and Erica, but she knows everything all of the time.  It’s been a source of great guilt for me, but I guess I’m sharing it because I wonder if other moms have been in this boat. 

Last week, I made a very important decision about facilitating a relationship between my kids & their dad; I’m going to stop trying. 

When we moved out here, I tried to make it easier. I called with updates, sent photos, and offered to cover the entire cost of travel for him to visit his kids for Xmas. I also told him if he wanted to move closer (as he is currently unemployed) & take a job here, he wouldn’t have to pay child support & we could split custody, where he could have them most weekends (as they are at the age where they want slumber parties with friends, etc) & I could have them during the week. He said he’d think about it. 

Meanwhile, the excuses started coming. Already he couldn’t afford to come for Xmas, as he wasn’t working or if he got a job, he wouldn’t be allowed any time off to see them. As flights are already filling up for holiday travel, I started texting, asking when he wanted to fly out, so I could book it. No reply. Second reminder. No reply. More excuses to the girls as there was just no money for him to come, maybe March Break. Or next summer. But not Xmas. That’s when I realized, no matter how easy I make it, he just doesn’t want to see them. He doesn’t care enough to be a dad. 

  
So, I wondered if by pushing the girls to call, to continue to facilitate a relationship that he’s made it clear doesn’t matter, am I hurting my children? After all, they get hurt when Dad doesn’t bother to call or visit. When we lived in the same city, every visit ended early. When I let him take them for March Break, he brought them home on Wednesday, because he was too busy. When they spent the summer with his mom, he rarely saw them, instead spending time with a girl he was seeing & drinking (according to my eldest). He doesn’t care to make that effort, so why should I? Why am I saving money for him to come here & see the kids when he can’t even tell me what day he wants to come?

I find myself offering him mental health support, which I did again this week, and for what? To be on the receiving end of his rage when I ask him once again to be a parent or tell me when he wants to come see his girls on my dime? Why do I keep trying to help this person? So my kids can have a dad? Shouldn’t that be his job? Shouldn’t he be making his kids his number one priority? Maybe my constant attempts to remind him to be a dad are hindering him from wanting to make his own efforts to be a parent. 

So, the flight I was going to pay for, I offered to his mom for March Break. I’m not sending any more photos or updates unless he asks me for them. I’m not going to ask the girls to call unless they choose to. I can’t keep trying to force someone to do what they can’t be bothered to do; which is be a parent. He doesn’t want to be a parent, so I’m not going to try to make him into one. It’s sad because I have friends who just want to coparent and spend as much time with their kids as possible & he won’t even come see them when it’s free for him to do so. 

  
But I’m done trying. It’s up to him to be a parent now. Maybe he’ll step up & be the kind of parent my kids deserve, calling every day & asking about school, life. Maybe he’ll save up to visit & spend all his time with them. Maybe when they fly to visit family next year, he will devote all of his time to his children. But if not, it’ll be on him. 

As for me, I’ll feel guilty, because that’s who I am. But I won’t keep trying to be nice & include someone who doesn’t want to be included & I will focus on raising strong women. 

  

If It Means a Lot To You

So, I switched jobs again. Haha. 

Shocking huh? This is my fourth job since the demise of my beloved Target. But I think this one may stick. The pay is better, benefits & more advancement opportunities for me. It’s not media, but it’ll do. 

You’re probably wondering why I keep switching, but it’s because I have vowed to be the happiest girl in the world, like my homegirl Ruby Gloom. I’m also a sole support parent, so I need to always make sure that I’m doing my best for my girls. So, I need to continue to focus on ensuring I’m earning the most that I can for them. This requires making choices to ensure that I’m earning to my potential & my sanity is intact.  My job asked me to travel more than I was able to & still support my family. I’m making just enough to live, but not enough to save for college, for vacations, etc. I need to make changes & now I’ll be happier.  

I haven’t given up on the reason that I am here; writing full time. But that requires a few things, so I’ll work on those things while building my career at my new job. This isn’t the job I intend to spend my life at, but it’s a good experience builder for my future. 

I think sometimes it’s easier to get frustrated about our job, especially when it’s not where we intend to spend the rest of their lives. But sometimes we lose sight of the fact that these steps, these jobs that we hate, are all steps towards the future we want. I’m building experience in two different fields & while I wasn’t happy at my most recent job, I learned things that I can apply to my new job & keep growing as a manager. Yes, time is tight & I have to keep juggling my life to make time for my girls & my partner & even myself. Finding time for the gym can be tedious but it needs to be done. Balancing time for the girls is a priority. And my partner & I find time to be together when we have it. Sometimes there isn’t much, but that quality time is just that. We make it count. We support each other’s career aspirations & share the vision for our future with our children. While right now, my current life requires a lot of time management, I know this is all for the greater good for my long term future. 

Everything is temporary. This chapter in my life may seem hectic, but soon it’ll die down & I’ll be able to enjoy my downtime. But in order to get to that place, I’ve got to keep working towards my goals by putting in time & building experience. 

 

Smile & think about how it all affects the greater good

I guess I just like to remind myself that everything leads to the good things I’ve got and the good things I will continue to gain. In order to build the future and family I want, I’ve gotta keep working & sacrifice some things in the short term to achieve the long term goals. Sometimes I can’t spend as much time with my partner as I would like, but I remind myself that we have our whole lives, so one night isn’t going to be the end of the world. We have other nights & when the time is right, we’ll have every night. I had to miss parent/teacher night, but I was there to play Barbie & watch movies & guess which one they’ll remember more. 

I know a lot of people will tell me that the future isn’t guarenteed. It’s not; I could die tomorrow (except I promised Erica I would never die), my partner & I could split up tomorrow (although I doubt it). But why push myself to death because the future is promised to no one? That would mean I’d lose my patience for my life. Then all of a sudden I’m frustrated because things need to be rearranged, which leads to fighting & conflict & stress. I’d rather be able to understand that yes, I need to work, sometimes my partner can’t be there when I want him & that we can always make time another time, so that we can make that time count, whether it’s with my daughters or my mate. 

So, I’ll keep being optimistic that the choices I’m making will boost my short term joy & build my long term happiness, enjoying each and every day of my wacky life. 

  

Writing’s on the Wall

Parenting a teenager super sucks sometimes. 

I’m fortunate that I’m raising a mature & well rounded teen girl. She’s not concerned with gossip. She doesn’t waste days on social media. She likes boys & fashion & selfies & reality TV, but she’s not caught up in celebrity worship as much as her peers (except for Queen Taylor Swift).  

I’m perfectly fine with my daughter loving Taylor Swift. She’s a good person who loves her friends and her fans. She promotes the concept of women building up other women. She responds to criticism with class and poise. She isn’t afraid to stand up for other artists. Taylor Swift is a fine role model for young women & I applaud her commitment to retaining her true personality despite her growing fame. 

However, my daughter’s new school friend recently teased her (good naturedly) for her obsession with the E! Reality show Total Divas. She adores the Bella Twins (Brie & Nikki) and enjoys their adventures as they climb the mountain to become the most dominant Divas in WWE history (a feat they’ve accomplished as Brie is the only Diva to co-main event a PPV, and Nikki recently held the Divas Championship longer than any Diva in history). But her friends are more concerned with Keeping Up With the Kardashians, most notably, their “style icon and role model,” Kylie Jenner. 

My daughter argues that her reality show is better, because Brie & Nikki Bella have an actual skill, whether their skill is respected by mainstream entertainment fans or not. Brie & Nikki can wrestle; they train to wrestle. Nikki has continued to compete through three separate injuries over the 301 days she was Divas champion. Brie & Nikki travel often, missing weddings, family functions, all in the name of entertainment. Brie most recently missed her first wedding anniversary because she was touring. My daughter often points out that Kylie has no discernible skill, nor do any of her sisters. They don’t have actual jobs, or a talent, or anything that makes them special, so why are we keeping up with them. But I overheard her friends this week telling her that Kylie Jenner is an icon & they should all aspire to be like her, get her signature pout & her relationship with rapper Tyga are “relationship goals.” All of this sort of makes me sad.  

I don’t know Kylie Jenner. I’m sure she’s a very sweet girl. She’s quite pretty. If she is a wild child, it’s probably more due to a lack of adequate supervision from her parents, Kris & Caitlyn Jenner. But there are so many more interesting things for young girls to aspire to be than pretty with a full pout. There is so much more for young women to accomplish than dating a 25 year old man while underage and bikini selfies and launching an app with makeup tips. These girls are 13 and 14 years old. They can grow into women of distinction; they can change the world. Why are they limiting themselves by wanting to be more like a woman with no discernible talent & her only goal is to be pretty & desired by men? Is this how my parents felt when I was all about Madonna?  

Girls, please don’t sell yourself short. If you must look up to someone famous, why not Hailee Stenfeld? This young lady was nominated for an Academy Award at the age of 14. She recently released her single “Love Myself,” which is quickly climbing the Billboard charts. The catchy song is an anthem for self love, reminding people that as long as she sees her worth, she doesn’t need anyone to validate her. What about Malala Yousafzai, who took on the Taliban, survived a gunshot wound & now advocates education for women in underdeveloped countries. Both of these young women are the same age as Miss Jenner & their messages are so much more positive. Love who you are, grow as a woman, seek knowledge. While neither may have Miss Jenner’s perfect pout, they have something so much more: goals & aspirations & a desire to make the world better.   

Somewhere, did we as parents fail our children? We can blame the media for giving the Kardashian-Jenner clan attention, but we are responsible for their infamy. We comment on their articles, we download their games, much like the Simpsons Treehouse of Horror Episode, if you ignore them, they will die. We keep them alive with every retweet, click and comment.   

But maybe it’s deeper. Maybe we as moms have failed our children by our own example. Why do our daughters aspire only to be pretty? They don’t learn from celebrities, they learn from us. We can blame Barbie, even Kylie Jenner, but we have to ask what kind of example are we setting? Do we acquiesce to our husbands? Did we abandon our goals? Do we focus too much on our own aesthetic so that out daughters see us fearing aging & obsessed with being “Cougars” because either we are single moms hoping to meet a mate or because we still want to feel sexy? There is nothing wrong with these things on the surface, know there are times I’m too caught up in my appearance, especially my weight & my weight loss journey & I need to be mindful of that for my daughters.  But perhaps we need to use them as talking points, while aspiring to be more; professionally, personally.   Perhaps we as moms need to start setting goals for ourselves to showcase that we as moms are strong, brave, smart and beautiful. Then perhaps our daughters will look up to us, admire us, and not Kylie Jenner. Because your daughter’s role model should be you, not the flavour of the week on TV. Maybe if we kept up with being the best version of ourselves, our kids could keep up with us, and not the Kardashians.   

Hey Mama

Because I’ve spent many years covering entertainment media, I read a lot of celebrity gossip. 

Let me rephrase: I read comments on celebrity gossip. 

I prefer the comments because I think it’s funny that people waste their days calling celebs names. I comment, but even my constructive comments get maligned with replies with poor grammar & calling celebs whores. Such fun. I love the Internet. I once talked about how parents wonder where their children learn bullying from. They learn it from you BULLYING STRANGERS ON THE INTERNET. 

But the Kelly Rutherford/Daniel Giersch custody case has been interesting, as it covers a world of issues, from parental alienation, international coparenting & what is truly in the best interest of the children (you can read the decision here). As someone who is now attempting to cross country coparent, I was very interested in seeing how this plays out. 

  
The decision references that while both are good parents, Ms. Rutherford’s attempts to marginalize her ex husband’s role as dad prompted the judge to choose to give him primary custody of the couple’s two children, as the minimum time he proposed for mom to see the kids was more than the maximum time he would have seen the kids with her plan. As Ms. Rutherford demands her American children be returned to America (the kids hold dual citizenship with the EU), one of the comments I see most is;

“Children belong with their mother, only their mother. What a horrible dad for taking those kids from their mother.”

Wait. What? 

One of my favourite blogs is Daddy Doin’ Work. Doyin Richards is committed to promoting the role of dad & encourages women to also allow dad to embrace their parental role. Kids need two parents that are active & emotionally present. You only need to step up when one parent doesn’t step in. And we need to stop with the antiquated idea that dads don’t matter. 

One of my best friends is a single dad with full custody of his son. I won’t violate his privacy with details, but he stepped up in a situation where a lot of men wouldn’t & he rose to the occasion & is raising a fine young gentleman. Another one of my friends from public school is fighting tooth & nail every day to be a hands on and present father for his children. Yes, there are deadbeat dads & yes, they suck. But if you are a mom lucky enough to have a partner or former partner who wants to be an active father, don’t be like Ms. Rutherford. Don’t shut dad out. 

Dads are damned if they do & damned if they don’t. Look at Stephen Curry, who brought his daughter Riley to all of his playoff games, & press conferences, etc. Women pissed all over him for not “leaving his brat at home with mom” instead if commending him for wanting to share his big moments with his family. But if he left his wife & owed back child support, we’d string him up for being a deadbeat. 

  
I know some of you are thinking “But MHC, you just moved across the country. Didn’t you shut dad out?” I once let myself think that way, but then I realized the difference. Mr. Giersch wants to parent. My former partner blows off Skype dates, and spent less than 10 days with them during his month with them, often leaving them with their grandmother for days. I would call & ask how Daddy was & if they were having fun with him & they answered “he’s at home”. He doesn’t call often. I can give all the access in the world & even offered to help him if he wanted to move closer to give him more access if need be, but he didn’t exercise his access when they were nearby. However, I will always try to encourage him to be a father, to the point where I practically force him, telling him he can’t send our teen daughter home after a few days because she’s annoying him, or demanding he call. If he wanted to parent, he’s got the opportunity. Maybe this idea that dads don’t matter bugs me because while I would kill for my kids to have a dad that’s invested in his children, other dads are being denied the opportunity to coparent. 

The other question I read from the “moms are the only option” supporters are “what would you do if you were Kelly?” If I were Ms. Rutherford, or the NCP, I would do the only option; I would move to where they are. Part of being a parent means making the tough choices. This was not an easy choice, but making more money & having full time hours while being able to supplement my income doing what I love made so much more sense than working two jobs & never seeing my kids to put a roof over our head. Sometimes you’ve gotta look at the big picture & do what’s right, not what’s best for you. If I was the NCP, I would have packed my bags the minute the CP said this was the plan. I would have been in the same city with them, so I could attend parent teacher meetings, doctor’s appointments, and birthday parties. 

We could all take a lesson in “what’s best for kids” from another celebrity; Britney Spears. 2007 & 2008 weren’t kind to Ms. Spears. But she got it together. We should all commend her for pulling her life together & conquering her mental illness & personal struggles to be the successful woman she’s become. But when she had it together, her sons Sean & Jayden were happily well adjusted in their father Kevin Federline’s Tarzana home. So, she didn’t try to get custody. She put her sons’ needs over her own. And Federline & Spears coparent well. She’s been spotted playing with Federline’s daughters with new wife Victoria Prince while cheering on her sons at soccer. They throw joint birthday parties. Her sons spend all their school vacation time with their mom, and Sean & Jayden win.  

Dads matter. If dad doesn’t want to be there, stop forcing him to try to be there, a lesson I’m learning. Trying to make a man parent only hurts the kids. But shutting out a man who wants to parent (or ridiculing a man for wanting to be a parent) hurts them too. So, even if he wasn’t an active dad, but wants to turn that around, let him try to be a dad. If he’s been a good dad all along, let him be a good dad. But what’s best for the kids isn’t just mom. It could be living with mom, or living with dad, or living with grandma. What’s best for kids is the life that is actually best for the kids.  

Bright

Have you ever been happy, but not that happy? 

I’m not unhappy, or sad or anything, & I’m still generally happy with my life. But, I have been in this weird funk for the last few days. Almost mopey even. Even listening to the Overlord’s favourite song on repeat hasn’t helped. 

I wonder if it’s because I’ve been doing nothing but work & prepare my house except for two days this past month. Maybe it’s because my District Manager has expectations for me I don’t think I can live up to & the more I’m prepped to take over my store as manager, the more unsure I am that this is the right position for me. I’m excited about my latest article, an entertainment piece on an up and coming Canadian artist, but even my ever growing cow province portfolio isn’t making me upbeat. Can fatigue do this? After all, I haven’t been sleeping well. My youngest isn’t sleeping well because she doesn’t like when I go to work, she wants to be with me every second. So, after she falls asleep, I wrack my brain with trying to help her adjust, as well as what more I can do for them, for work, my life, etc. So, perhaps the lack of sleep caught up to me?

Maybe. There’s also that I’m homesick af. 

When you’re a person who thrives on social interaction, taking yourself far away from everyone you know maybe isn’t the best idea. I get so lonely, because I’m used to having friends around. I never really appreciated my break time chats with my friend/former coworker, or when my friend Bonnie would randomly invite me to lunch. I stayed away from home (Windsor) for so long to avoid someone I didn’t actually want to avoid, but was afraid of being let down if I went home & I didn’t see them, that I find myself missing it. It’s not a person or a thing I miss. I miss the feeling that I am “home.” 

 

The Detroit Skyline reminds me of home
 
It’s just stupid things, like wanting chicken wings & fries & a pint without having to check Yelp, because I know Hurricane’s & the Loose Goose have them & they’re yummy. It’s the idea that if I wanted to go out for said chicken wings, I could call Sarah & Nic, or Rena & we would just go (Damanda would just eat fries). Now…I know two people & we rarely have days off at the same time. It’s this weird feeling of “I don’t actually belong here & I’m kind of a floating island that no one knows & I want this place to feel like home.” I know it will, once I find familiar haunts (besides a lake) & meet people & maybe make friends with someone. But how does one make friends when they only have two coworkers & go to the gym? I’m so glad the girls have school, because adults trying to make friends sucks. 

 

my lake is really pretty though
 
Of course, I’m not completely alone. I have the girls. I have the two people I know. I have the person who I care more for than anyone else in the world. But I’m afraid that I’m heading towards a turn of events that feels like I’ve been there before (because I have…twice) & I know how they end. Spoiler alert: it never ends well for me. And no matter how many times I tell myself it’s not rational, it’s not going to happen this time because that’s what my gut instincts tell me, the far more emotional part of me, that sounds a lot like my best friend’s husband says “you’re dumb. You keep blindly whistling along, super happy & the ground is gonna fall out because you know what’s gonna happen next.” And no matter how much I focus on present tense, that nagging fear clings to me & I don’t like it. It just adds to my feeling of being an outsider. Because, as I’ve been reminded, if history repeats itself, I am completely on my own. I’ll have no support system to help me through, because they’re all waiting to say “I told you so.”

I was totally prepared for being far away until I actually was. Now I just feel like a spectator in the world I knew, spending way too much time on FB trying to feel connected, while simultaneously trying to feel like my new world is home. It’s weird; because I know if I was in my London house or home in Windsor, I’d probably just be doing the same thing; chilling with the littles, going to crossfit, blogging about my life. I guess it’s just a matter of building a life as we go. 

Fortunately, there are days off that I spend with the littles that things feel like they could be home (like when I finally got to see penguins or out audience with Taylor Swift) & I get excited because this could be home someday. It’s just not yet, & that’s a weird feeling. 

  

Giants

I often joke that I’ve turned my 8yo daughter into a “crossfit douchebag” & it’s my proudest achievement as a parent. 

Maybe it’s not the GREATEST, but I like it. 

To balance parenting & fitness, I often bring my kids to the gym with me. My teen daughter is preparing to start crossfit soon, as she is getting ready to start her quest to become the youngest WWE Divas Champion in history. And my youngest builds forts out of foam rollers. But my middle child, whom we call the Overlord LOVES crossfit. 

When her dad told her that girls with big muscles weren’t pretty, she cited the “prettiest girl ever” was our West London Crossfit coach Lacey, who was “pretty like a princess & stronger than boys!” She’s already told me a Lacey-free gym won’t be as fun, despite my telling her that the new gym has girl coaches. She says when she grows up, she wants to be pretty & stronger than boys (& will tell you why kale is amazing). 

 

I don’t post photos of my daughters, so you’re stuck with my post-wod selfie with Lacey
 
This brings me to a hilarious story. 

When our cable provider messed up connecting our internet & TV, they gave us a PPV credit, & I asked them what to do with it. The Overlord shouted “I WANT TO WATCH BLONDE LADY FIGHT!” If you’re wondering who “blonde lady” is, allow me to show you!

 

from mmanews
 
That’s right; my 8yo idolizes Ronda Rousey. 

As a big WWE fan, she absolutely LOATHES the character of Stephanie McMahon. In fact, her Stephanie action figure only exists for her Brie Bella action figure to put in the Yes! Lock. When Ronda appeared at Wrestlemania 31 & tossed Triple H & put the hated Stephanie in the armbar, a girl crush was born. Ronda is strong. Ronda is tougher than boys. Ronda could probably whoop a boy. Ronda won an ESPY & BEAT OUT BOYS. Ronda is pretty much the coolest person on Earth to her. Ronda is sooooooo pretty. And after explaining that unlike WWE, Ronda fights for real & the fight might not be long (“because the other girl isn’t Ronda Mommy,”) & we NEVER imitate WWE or  Ronda, we are going to watch “Blonde Lady” fight tomorrow (cue all the sanctimommies questioning my parenting!). 

from mmanews

I also love Ronda; she takes no crap. She showcases an image that women have been told wasn’t a real thing; that strong women aren’t sexy. They are masculine & ugly. The thing the dad told my daughter. I stopped trying to be thin long ago; I started losing weight to be healthier for my girls, but now the goal is strong. Maybe I’ll always wear a size 10-12, but my thick thighs don’t bother me anymore. They are the product of hard ass work & strength. Those thighs can deadlift my body weight & squat in triple digits. And they’re only going to get stronger, as my goal is a 200lbs back squat by year’s end. A few years ago, a woman like Ronda Rousey would have been mocked relentlessly for her physique, called a dude, & yes, it still happens, but when she shuts the body shamers down, we cheer with her. When similar comments were made about Serena Williams, JK Rowling shut them down like a boss. It’s cool to be athletic, strong, & strong women can be beautiful! 

 

It’s pretty much an awesome time to be woman, as we can now be proud of our bodies regardless of size, whether the media agrees or not. Tess Holliday made “plus size” women stand up and say “we are beautiful too, not a fetish or a niche!” (While I think sexiness comes from self love, I’ll give Tess credit) Women of colour are celebrated for beauty, not “exotic looks,” thanks in part to Lupita Nyong’o. And Ronda Rousey made the world see that it’s cool to be strong. 

I’ll get “uh, MHC, body shaming still happens, it’s REAL. Just because it doesn’t bother you doesn’t mean it isn’t a thing.” Yup, still is a thing. I get accused of it all of the time because of my fitness posts on social media, but here’s the thing; you are in control of your body. If you love yourself, no one can shame you. My belly isn’t taut & my thighs have cellulite, but I am strong. And I’m proud of my strength. The definition will come if I work hard. I’ll always have double D’s & big hips. But I also have daughters & it’s more important that I embrace those double D’s & deadlift thighs than I fit in a size three. And no amount of body shaming will make me stop loving my body so my daughters emulate self love. Tess Holliday is successful because when she looks in the mirror, she sees beauty. When Ronda Rousey looks in the mirror, she sees beauty (& the knowledge that she can kick the crap out of anyone who thinks otherwise). You need to see beauty when you look in the mirror (as I’ve said before) & then no one can hurt you. 

 

from usa today

There’s something awesome about women being able to look at any body type & see beauty. My teen daughter is a 00. She will always be thin. She’s often mocked for her thin frame, but I remind her that her body is perfect, as she’s an athlete, a track star. She’s proud of her fast, long legs & doesn’t need to stress about her chest or booty because she’s built to be an athlete, the thing she wants to be. And if her idol, AJ Lee, can buck beauty standards & be a champion, so can she. 

from wwe.com

You can listen to body shamers who tell women they’re too thin, too buxom, too fat, too strong, or you can embrace your body, like women like Ronda Rousey. I love that my 8yo thinks she’s cool, mostly because she is cool. She’s confident & proud, and that matters more than how she looks on the outside. 
 

That’s What You Get

I am starting to think that I am simply afraid to be happy.

I understand that all humans have a basic right to be happy. I am generally a happy person. I find ways to be happy even when everything is actually stupid. I pride myself on this. But when things play out in a way that makes me truly happy, I start to feel guilty, like do I deserve this? Is it fair that I’m so happy when other people aren’t, etc.?

I lead a very charmed existence. My life used to be very challenging & I’ve worked very hard to build myself in a way that I can be happy regardless of what’s happening in my beautiful life. I have been fortunate to have been blessed with three wonderful children. I have a talent I am passionate about and I’m growing as a writer every day. I’m building connections and career opportunities in my field and I’m super excited about that. My home is slowly becoming a lovely little house where I can raise my family. The girls love their new surroundings and like to chase the bunnies in the yard, they’ve already made friends their own age, and are always outside enjoying their new hometown. Business is even picking up at my day job, so I’m worrying less and less about money and focusing more on becoming a good manager and leader. You know, why I was hired in the first place. My friends back home are always supportive and my friends here are super fun. My girlfriend & I are setting up a playdate with her boys and my girls once the boys get home from camp. My frazzled nerves are often soothed by three words, sent by text message almost every day. They give me peace & security. I’m beautiful and smart and for the first time in my life, I don’t feel anxious and my self esteem doesn’t suck.

But I also find myself worrying that something is going to go terribly wrong. I find myself feeing increasingly sorry for the Dad, who seems to be miserable and that’s my fault. I know you could rationalize that if he wanted to see his kids, he would find a job here, or he would have actually spent time with them when he had them for the month, but I can’t help but feel badly that his life has gone so far downhill and mine seems pretty rad. Kids deserve two hands on parents and I keep hoping he’ll finally get it together and focus on being a good father for his children, but it never happens. And I just keep thinking that I’ve ruined his life somehow. I worry all of the things that are making me happy will suddenly be taken away and it won’t be here anymore. I hadn’t planned for certain developments, and now that they’re in play, it scares me that the other shoe will drop and it’ll go away & the thought scares me so much. I worry that maybe they prefer me as a zoo animal to be observed & watched than a woman to be loved & respected. I can see the girls are adjusting nicely, but I’m still worried that they won’t be happy or that I’m making choices that will impact them in a negative way, despite everything being positive. I also wonder WHY I feel badly that he’s miserable. If the shoe were on the other foot, he would revel in my misery. But I keep worrying that he won’t handle the transition okay, which causes me to distance myself from other aspects of my life so that I can try to help him adjust.

 

I understand all of these feelings are super normal. I understand that change is scary and letting people in is terrifying and trusting people is hard and people have free will and they choose to love you and they can choose to self destruct and there’s nothing you can do about it. I guess it’s all part of the adjustment; learning to trust your gut instincts (which currently tell me to relax and enjoy my life, it’s the overthinking that gets me) and learning to accept that feelings of self doubt and even fear are normal; especially when every other time you’ve been really happy, it seems to go away. You’ve just gotta remind yourself that it won’t go away. I’ll just continue to focus my efforts on raising my girls, self improvement, and most importantly, the written word. I apply for jobs I’m grossly underqualified for, just so I can get my name out there while I continue to work with my current magazines. I’ll continue to revel with my time with my girls. I’m doing every day crossfit, which means my body hurts like mother effer, but I’m feeling more like myself which means I’m much happier here. It finally feels like this is home. London never really felt like home. It felt like a stepping stone to someplace else. Maybe this was that someplace else? Or maybe this is a stepping stone to someplace else and in two years or so I’ll end up in BC working at some rural newspaper in some hick town, or I’ll actually go to the arctic. Who knows? All I know is I need to do what my Queen Taylor Swift says and “shake it off” and not allow guilt or feelings that the other shoe will drop spoil the happy life I’m building.

But it’s easier said than done & it’s something I need to work on to help me be a more confident person. But as we slowly adjust into a comfortable routine here, and as time passes, it’ll be easier for me to settle into my comfortable place & just be happy.   

Wait For Me

My house is oddly quiet, except for the prattling of the not so angry teen who is currently enjoying a warm reunion with…her clothing.

My children are home and my heart is full. I can’t remember the last time I have been this happy. I revel in my role as mom, I love being there for my children and raising them and spending my days with them. They’re my favourite people in the entire world and after 28 miserable ass days, they are finally home where they belong, although two of them have been fast asleep since they got home. But they’re resting and recouping after a long journey. Even the cat is happy.

Now we can focus on the adjustment period, where the girls adjust to the new time zone, the new house, etc. I wanted to do this during the summer so they have time to feel comfortable. I sort of flung myself into everything and ended up feeling overwhelmed and a huge emotional wreck. Fortunately, I had friends (home and away) that have been there or me, whether it’s FaceTime chats, or texts, or sobbing phone calls, or even just holding me and reminding me that everything will be fine and they’re right here beside me and they’re not going anywhere. I want my children to have an easier transition. So, I want them to have time to play at the park, learn their way around, enjoy the city, etc. Then we can add school and friends and life. Oh, but first, our audience with Queen Taylor.

Now, our lives in cow province can begin. I’m excited to build a comfortable routine with my daughters. Something where we can be happy and have adventures and enjoy our little existence. It’s going to be nice to have “our” lives again, not to mention it’ll be awesome for them to learn more about our country by living in more than just Southwestern Ontario. They’re excited for the next chapter of our lives and I’m excited too. I used to just be terrified, but the fact that they are here and I no longer have to worry about what’s happening with them makes it easier. I no longer have to wonder about if they’re around something questionable, are the caregivers drinking to excess, are people smoking near them, are they being kept up too late? Now we can go back to our happy life of tea parties, learning and adventures. I start back at the gym full time on Wednesday, so the girls will see a normal schedule again. All of these things are essential to helping them adjust, which is my primary focus right now.

Being reunited with my children makes it easier to focus on why we are here; to continue to build my career. I like my day job and I understand it’s essential, but I came out here for a full time gig. Rome isn’t built in a day, so it’s time to continue to focus on building that portfolio so I can get a permanent position…and learn to drive. You know, perfectly normal things. But I’m very thankful that I have even this sliver of opportunity to build my dream career. I went to school and worked hard and have continued to work hard to get this far. Now, I just need to keep working. Of course, part of that means I need to stop being so hesitant to consider a long term career in entertainment media. I know I want to write human interest stuff and stuff that I feel makes a difference, but I’m really good at music reviews, and editorials about pop culture. Maybe that’s what I’m meant to do? I guess I need to stop bucking the idea and just enjoy writing! Maybe I’ve been a bit of a snob and felt like pop culture wasn’t a long term career plan. Maybe I need to just focus on finding that solid writing job and let the rest fall into place. After all, I guess as long as one person is reading my drivel, it means I’m a success, right?

In the interim, I’m going to enjoy my life. I have always led a pretty charmed existence and each move I make seems to make it better. I have beautiful children, I’m making strides in my career, and I finally know what time it is. I’m blessed with wonderful people who love me. My house is looking pretty nice. Not a bad gig. And I’m going to enjoy watching it play out and see what wonderful things happen next.