I've been realizing that I hate the fish I live with. They really creep me out. Maybe it's because they can't live with other fish that are the same as they are. They kill each other. Literally kill each other if they are in the same tank. A guy in my building told me he thought 2 in a 40 gallon tank would be all right but one attacked and ate the other one. They are obviously trying to say something - I'm just not sure what.
I take care of these fish named Goldie (I still think of Z's as chocolate chip) grudgingly. Z likes to scare his by waving a stuffed dolphin in front of it. It scared the hell out of the fish and Z finds it hilarious. So do I, actually. I guess he's showing me that if they are scared of a stuffed dolphin then they probably won't jump up and devour my arm while I'm feeding them. And yes, that's actually what I'm scared of happening. Isn't that ridiculous? I feel like they're biding their time.
I really Hate them. I wish I was at least indifferent to them, that would be a reasonably 'normal' response to having fish in the house. I think I have to move them to somewhere not in the middle of the living space. And certainly away from where I write and listen to music. And I have to clean their little tanks, the water is getting a bit cloudy but I need to buy a net because otherwise I can't get them out of the tank to clean it. You'd think that if you worked at a pet store and this woman came in to buy 2 fish for her kids and was totally clueless about fish that you'd include a fishnet with the rest of the paraphernalia (I am so proud of myself for being able to spell that word!). It's a pretty bad omission.
I'm the kind of person who would make sure that the customer walked out with everything they needed. If my job was to work at a pet store, I would make it my business to learn my job really well and give the best service I could. I hate going into a store and the clerk does a half-assed job. Either do your job well or don't do it at all. Don't sort-of do it. That makes me nuts.
Once upon a time I was a chambermaid in a small London hotel. We had to wear these uniforms, navy skirt, blue and white vertical striped tops with rounded collars, and a little apron (same stripes) that tied around the waist. I forgot about those uniforms although I do think I have a picture of it somewhere. Cleaning, especially hotel rooms, is one of the most finite jobs I know of. It is possible to do a perfect job every time because you are doing the same thing over and over again. There's something therapeutic about the physical labour of cleaning. And when I was finished, I was finished. I didn't think about it, worry that I could have done a better job. I did it, and I did it well and then it was done. I like jobs like that...
My point is that there was a woman who was hired who did a really lousy job and her excuse was that she was an architect (she had a degree). I told her that she might have a degree to be an architect but that right now she was a maid and she'd better start doing it properly because I was tired of cleaning up after her. Back then I didn't care if people didn't like me and I liked most people. Now I dislike most people and I do care if people like me. How messed up is that?
A few interesting things about when I worked at that hotel:
There were three chambermaids and we split the work and cleaned the hotel. We cleaned until it was done no matter what time that was. So we left anytime ranging from 3-7. One day we were all leaving in the middle of the afternoon and the manager stopped us: Where are you going? I pay you until 5. We told him we were done the work. He said: Well I pay you until 5 and you'll stay until 5. I don't know what his problem was that day. So we went downstairs to the staff area and drank tea and talked for two hours then left. The next time the hotel was really busy we all left at 5. He stopped us: Where are you going? It's not finished. We said: You pay us until 5. So we made him pay us overtime and he never stopped us from leaving again. Because in a hotel, the maid is the Most Important Person. Very few people realize that, but they are.
The staff all lived together in a flat that was a few blocks away from the hotel. It was in a great location, about a 10 minute walk to the British Museum. So we lived together, dined together, worked together. I did a similar thing in Australia with the encyclopedia. Living with the people I work with. I enjoy doing that. I like life to just balance like that - I hope to have that in my future in some capacity.
I got paid cash every friday. 63 pounds, 88 pence. And every week I spent 63 pounds, 88 pence. It was a pretty sweet way of life. I wish I had spent more time wandering though. I was fresh out of being very sheltered and I didn't know how to live outside a small community. I guess deep down I am a kibbutznik. Had my parents stayed in Israel and lived on Kibbutz I probably would have done really well. I also would have done really well in the army because of that thing I said earlier about doing any job really well. Maybe it's all happening in an alternate reality.
I was also a total space cadet and could get lost in a paper bag. I can still manage that but now I know how to use a map and not be scared of getting lost. I was scared of so much back then, I just didn't know it. It's cool to me to see how far I came but it seems that after meeting x I went downhill back into the fear. Now I'm coming out of it. Just for the record - it's way better on the way out than the way in.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Screw the Guilt!
I have a question I want to throw out there... what are my obligations to other people? One of the subjects that came up again and again as L and I 'therapized' each other is that my default answer to things is Yes. I decided that I am changing that to 'I have to think about it'. So now that I am actually going have to think about something, I might as well do it right. Since I have no idea where healthy boundaries lie, I would love some input here. These are some of my questions and thoughts:
1. Can I say 'no' guilt free when someone asks me to do something? Like if someone invites me over and I don't really know them and don't really want to know them, can I just say no thank you? Because that's what I'd like to do. I'm so tired of worrying about offending people. I used to enjoy offending people and I want to get back there.
2. Is it correct/healthy to remember that just because someone else wants me to do something, it does not mean I have to do it. It is definitely something I need to keep in mind.
3. Adults can take care of themselves and if they can not take No for an answer then they either shouldn't ask the questions, or they should suck it up. I have to remember that I am not responsible for anyone's well being other than mine and my kids'.
4. It is not my responsibility to make everyone happy. I know that my wanting to do that stems from my childhood but I haven't been in that situation for a very long time now and would like to Stop It. How do I stop?
5. I used to be told I'm honest before I'm nice. I like that about me and would love to get back there. While I was married to x I lost my ability to be honest if it meant rocking the boat or hurting someone's feelings. For instance: I always had to be so careful of what I said to his mother because she is a disgusting combo of sensitive and stupid so I tiptoed all the time. At the time I didn't think it was fair to make x choose between me and his mother. In retrospect I realize that she wouldn't have accepted me no matter what I did anyway so I should have stood up for myself and what matters to me, and let her deal with it. Instead, I made sure I went Out Of My Way to make her happy.
As an aside, her sister was stupid too. I once had a conversation with her and within the course of 10 minutes she talked about how someone she knew was so stressed that she had emphysema all over her scalp (I'm pretty sure she meant eczema) and then she went on to discuss the 'war veterinarians'. I didn't have the heart to correct her and really, I don't know if I could have stopped laughing for long enough to do it nicely. Thankfully she is so stupid she didn't even know I was laughing at her.
Now that I am out of my marriage I see that I tiptoed with x as well. He was so sensitive and I thought it was my job to protect him from... everything I guess. It is very easy to lose myself when I am so concerned about someone else's feelings and stop thinking of my own.
The kids and I were watching 'Big and Small' yesterday (which I love because Small is such an asshole) and Small throws a party that no one has a good time at. A told me that if one of her friends had a party and it wasn't fun that she would say it was. I asked her why and she said because she wants her friends to be happy. Nice sentiment, but I don't want her to feel like she always has to make everyone around her happy. That's what my role was in my family and it didn't get me very far, so I'd like to nip it in the bud. The question is: What is a healthy balance? If anyone has even an inkling of how to achieve that, please do share.
Something I've been meaning to mention: The kids have a few toys with lots of tiny pieces and everything was always getting lost all over the place. So I implemented a hula hoop rule. I put the hula hoop on the ground and all the little pieces inside of it. The kids know the pieces have to stay in the hula hoop or I take them away. It's made life a lot nicer and the kids actually find it's like a game to keep the pieces together. It also makes cleaning up way faster and easier. Just letting you know...
I have much much more I want to write but the time has come for me to sign off for now... But look forward to more coming out of the 'therapizing' that was done in Toronto, and also about what I am realizing about the cycle of abuse and control and the boiling frog.
On a final note, I want you all to know that a few days ago I used chameleon as a verb. It's a good one.
1. Can I say 'no' guilt free when someone asks me to do something? Like if someone invites me over and I don't really know them and don't really want to know them, can I just say no thank you? Because that's what I'd like to do. I'm so tired of worrying about offending people. I used to enjoy offending people and I want to get back there.
2. Is it correct/healthy to remember that just because someone else wants me to do something, it does not mean I have to do it. It is definitely something I need to keep in mind.
3. Adults can take care of themselves and if they can not take No for an answer then they either shouldn't ask the questions, or they should suck it up. I have to remember that I am not responsible for anyone's well being other than mine and my kids'.
4. It is not my responsibility to make everyone happy. I know that my wanting to do that stems from my childhood but I haven't been in that situation for a very long time now and would like to Stop It. How do I stop?
5. I used to be told I'm honest before I'm nice. I like that about me and would love to get back there. While I was married to x I lost my ability to be honest if it meant rocking the boat or hurting someone's feelings. For instance: I always had to be so careful of what I said to his mother because she is a disgusting combo of sensitive and stupid so I tiptoed all the time. At the time I didn't think it was fair to make x choose between me and his mother. In retrospect I realize that she wouldn't have accepted me no matter what I did anyway so I should have stood up for myself and what matters to me, and let her deal with it. Instead, I made sure I went Out Of My Way to make her happy.
As an aside, her sister was stupid too. I once had a conversation with her and within the course of 10 minutes she talked about how someone she knew was so stressed that she had emphysema all over her scalp (I'm pretty sure she meant eczema) and then she went on to discuss the 'war veterinarians'. I didn't have the heart to correct her and really, I don't know if I could have stopped laughing for long enough to do it nicely. Thankfully she is so stupid she didn't even know I was laughing at her.
Now that I am out of my marriage I see that I tiptoed with x as well. He was so sensitive and I thought it was my job to protect him from... everything I guess. It is very easy to lose myself when I am so concerned about someone else's feelings and stop thinking of my own.
The kids and I were watching 'Big and Small' yesterday (which I love because Small is such an asshole) and Small throws a party that no one has a good time at. A told me that if one of her friends had a party and it wasn't fun that she would say it was. I asked her why and she said because she wants her friends to be happy. Nice sentiment, but I don't want her to feel like she always has to make everyone around her happy. That's what my role was in my family and it didn't get me very far, so I'd like to nip it in the bud. The question is: What is a healthy balance? If anyone has even an inkling of how to achieve that, please do share.
Something I've been meaning to mention: The kids have a few toys with lots of tiny pieces and everything was always getting lost all over the place. So I implemented a hula hoop rule. I put the hula hoop on the ground and all the little pieces inside of it. The kids know the pieces have to stay in the hula hoop or I take them away. It's made life a lot nicer and the kids actually find it's like a game to keep the pieces together. It also makes cleaning up way faster and easier. Just letting you know...
I have much much more I want to write but the time has come for me to sign off for now... But look forward to more coming out of the 'therapizing' that was done in Toronto, and also about what I am realizing about the cycle of abuse and control and the boiling frog.
On a final note, I want you all to know that a few days ago I used chameleon as a verb. It's a good one.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Romance Novels?!
On a side note I would like to tell my friend with whom I had hoped to spend the eve of the new year this: I was being selfish. Forgive me. The universe was looking out for us because really what I needed to do was stay home, listen to Pink Floyd, and write just as you needed to do what you did.
I was an avid reader growing up. I taught myself how to read the summer before grade one. I remember I was learning with the book: Are you my Mother? I kept asking my mom what sound an i makes. But then I read it. My second book was Fun with Dick and Jane. Really. Fun with Dick and Jane.
My mom always read to me when I was little. I don't remember her reading story books but she did read Charlotte's Web, Little Women and the first three of the Anne of Green Gables books. I loved reading. I loved being able to escape into a book and live somewhere totally made up. After my mother's initial 'introducing me to literature', she did not follow through by making sure there were good books for me to read. There should have been books at my fingertips that she provided that were interesting, educational, funny, sad, poignant, and lots more things.But there were not.
I don't know when it started, but I started reading romance novels. Danielle Steele, Harlequin Romances, and literally hundreds of teen romance novels. I spent all my money on buying them, had a huge collection of them. I read some good books interspersed, but I always came back to the romance novels. I know how cheesy they are. I know that things don't always work out in the end (or maybe they do and I just haven't come to the end yet) but I still read the books. Once, just once, I would like it to end in tragedy, but somewhere I don't expect it, like in a Harlequin. I think I like to be surprised. But only in the safety of a book as I've had quite enough of it in real life.
I like lots of different kinds of books now, mystery, courtroom drama, weird, biographical, 'literature', religious books, pretty much anything someone puts in front of me. If it grabs me pretty close to right away then I will read it. Otherwise I put it down and take another. There are so many amazing books out there that I'm not going to waste my time on bad ones. I'd rather not write a book at all than write a bad one. Or a poorly edited one - what's that all about? How does that even happen? Typos and grammatical errors, and it's been edited by a professional 'editor'. I'm sure I have mistakes in here, but guess what? I edit very briefly - once. So please forgive me my imperfections.
I am reading a book right now that was given to me by two incredible people who I just was lucky enough to hang out with in Toronto, C&A. It is called Spat the Dummy, written by Ed MacDonald. It is hilarious. I started reading it yesterday and have only put it down when I have to. It's funny, honest, aggressive, and so many other adjectives. You should read it and then you can come with some adjectives of your own. I knew by the title that I was going to like it and loved it by page 10. Please - read it! You'll never look back.
I spent several days in Toronto without the kids. All I did was hang out with people I love. I didn't get to see my sister and her family as much as I would have liked, and I didn't get to Kitchener to see another friend, but I used up the time I had resting, talking, laughing, visiting. My friend L who I stayed with and I had an 8 hour therapy session with each other the first day and it went from there. I love my friends and family in Toronto. I wish I could merge my life here with my people there. That would be the best of both worlds! For Real.
I was an avid reader growing up. I taught myself how to read the summer before grade one. I remember I was learning with the book: Are you my Mother? I kept asking my mom what sound an i makes. But then I read it. My second book was Fun with Dick and Jane. Really. Fun with Dick and Jane.
My mom always read to me when I was little. I don't remember her reading story books but she did read Charlotte's Web, Little Women and the first three of the Anne of Green Gables books. I loved reading. I loved being able to escape into a book and live somewhere totally made up. After my mother's initial 'introducing me to literature', she did not follow through by making sure there were good books for me to read. There should have been books at my fingertips that she provided that were interesting, educational, funny, sad, poignant, and lots more things.But there were not.
I don't know when it started, but I started reading romance novels. Danielle Steele, Harlequin Romances, and literally hundreds of teen romance novels. I spent all my money on buying them, had a huge collection of them. I read some good books interspersed, but I always came back to the romance novels. I know how cheesy they are. I know that things don't always work out in the end (or maybe they do and I just haven't come to the end yet) but I still read the books. Once, just once, I would like it to end in tragedy, but somewhere I don't expect it, like in a Harlequin. I think I like to be surprised. But only in the safety of a book as I've had quite enough of it in real life.
I like lots of different kinds of books now, mystery, courtroom drama, weird, biographical, 'literature', religious books, pretty much anything someone puts in front of me. If it grabs me pretty close to right away then I will read it. Otherwise I put it down and take another. There are so many amazing books out there that I'm not going to waste my time on bad ones. I'd rather not write a book at all than write a bad one. Or a poorly edited one - what's that all about? How does that even happen? Typos and grammatical errors, and it's been edited by a professional 'editor'. I'm sure I have mistakes in here, but guess what? I edit very briefly - once. So please forgive me my imperfections.
I am reading a book right now that was given to me by two incredible people who I just was lucky enough to hang out with in Toronto, C&A. It is called Spat the Dummy, written by Ed MacDonald. It is hilarious. I started reading it yesterday and have only put it down when I have to. It's funny, honest, aggressive, and so many other adjectives. You should read it and then you can come with some adjectives of your own. I knew by the title that I was going to like it and loved it by page 10. Please - read it! You'll never look back.
I spent several days in Toronto without the kids. All I did was hang out with people I love. I didn't get to see my sister and her family as much as I would have liked, and I didn't get to Kitchener to see another friend, but I used up the time I had resting, talking, laughing, visiting. My friend L who I stayed with and I had an 8 hour therapy session with each other the first day and it went from there. I love my friends and family in Toronto. I wish I could merge my life here with my people there. That would be the best of both worlds! For Real.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Boils?!
I ordered in Chinese tonight. A wanted chicken chow mein, one of her favourites that she has not had in quite a while, and I can always go for some Chinese food. I called the place I usually order from and after being on hold for 7 minutes decided to try somewhere else. Big Mistake. The food took almost an hour and a half to get here. By the time it did, A had pretty much eaten dinner in the form of snacks (probably healthier than the chow mein anyway, but not the point). The chow mein had no flavour and was so greasy that soy sauce balled up on it. The hot and sour soup was pink. Pink. The unnatural kind of pink that used to be on Elephant Pink Popcorn. The spring rolls were soggy, cold, and had curry in them. I threw everything in the garbage. Sad but true. So what I'm basically saying is don't order food from The Oriental Pearl on Marion. It sucks.
I was emailing with my friend J in Toronto yesterday. She said that she read about my flood with her jaw on the floor. She wrote: What's next? Locusts? To which I replied: I know, I just keep waiting for the boils to appear. Well - wait no longer!
The other day I was getting dressed to go to a party when I noticed something wet on my stomach. I looked down and saw that where I had been rubbing the skin was coming off. And the skin just kept peeling and peeling. Until the spot without skin was about the size of a toonie. Bigger, actually, and it was red about two inches around the patch of sloughed off skin.
I have to admit that it freaked me out more than a bit. I had no idea what could have possibly caused it. I mean, because it started out like a blister I thought that it would have most likely been a burn, but don't you think that if I got a burn bad enough to blister, I would have felt it?
Later that day, when I was peeling off the band aid that I had put on it, I was so thankful that I couldn't feel the band aid coming off the skin (because it pulled more skin off with it)(Gross!). And then I realized that the burn is in an area where I have no feeling because the nerve endings were damaged when I had stomach surgery. So of course I didn't feel the burn. Which is why I got such a bad one. Now that I think back, I fell asleep one night with the heating pad on. And now I know that it is possible to get very badly burned by a heating pad. Especially when you can't feel your skin burning to the point of blistering...
I have been changing the dressing every morning and night. I was told to keep it dry, so I didn't put anything on it. Then last night when I changed the bandage there was some greenish yellow discharge on it, so I put polysporin on it. Today it wasn't any better. I looked at the expiry date and it expired in April of 2007, so it probably didn't have that much punch left in it. I bought a new tube today, put it on the raw open wound and am hoping that when I change the dressing in the morning that there is no longer any sign of infection. If there is then I will go to the doctor. It would be pretty ridiculous not to. I am not suicidal, and if I was, killing myself by infected three inch burn would be a pretty stupid and slow way to do it...
So: I have had a fire, flood, blistering burn... That's three. Perhaps it will now end and good things can happen. How amazing would that be?!
I was emailing with my friend J in Toronto yesterday. She said that she read about my flood with her jaw on the floor. She wrote: What's next? Locusts? To which I replied: I know, I just keep waiting for the boils to appear. Well - wait no longer!
The other day I was getting dressed to go to a party when I noticed something wet on my stomach. I looked down and saw that where I had been rubbing the skin was coming off. And the skin just kept peeling and peeling. Until the spot without skin was about the size of a toonie. Bigger, actually, and it was red about two inches around the patch of sloughed off skin.
I have to admit that it freaked me out more than a bit. I had no idea what could have possibly caused it. I mean, because it started out like a blister I thought that it would have most likely been a burn, but don't you think that if I got a burn bad enough to blister, I would have felt it?
Later that day, when I was peeling off the band aid that I had put on it, I was so thankful that I couldn't feel the band aid coming off the skin (because it pulled more skin off with it)(Gross!). And then I realized that the burn is in an area where I have no feeling because the nerve endings were damaged when I had stomach surgery. So of course I didn't feel the burn. Which is why I got such a bad one. Now that I think back, I fell asleep one night with the heating pad on. And now I know that it is possible to get very badly burned by a heating pad. Especially when you can't feel your skin burning to the point of blistering...
I have been changing the dressing every morning and night. I was told to keep it dry, so I didn't put anything on it. Then last night when I changed the bandage there was some greenish yellow discharge on it, so I put polysporin on it. Today it wasn't any better. I looked at the expiry date and it expired in April of 2007, so it probably didn't have that much punch left in it. I bought a new tube today, put it on the raw open wound and am hoping that when I change the dressing in the morning that there is no longer any sign of infection. If there is then I will go to the doctor. It would be pretty ridiculous not to. I am not suicidal, and if I was, killing myself by infected three inch burn would be a pretty stupid and slow way to do it...
So: I have had a fire, flood, blistering burn... That's three. Perhaps it will now end and good things can happen. How amazing would that be?!
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Here... fishy fishy fishy
A has been asking for a fish for Chanukah. That's all she's been talking about, fish this and fish that. So I decided to get her a fish but to give it to her on the last night of Chanukah, which was a week ago, Wednesday the 8th.
That same day I got up in the morning and had nothing to wear that made me feel good about myself. I realized that had been happening a lot and I thought back to that post I wrote about my being fine with the fact that I'm fat because I make sure I have nice things to wear that fit properly so I can feel good about myself. And I didn't have those things and was not feeling good about myself so I decided to go shopping. I took the day off work so I could clothes shop for myself and then buy fish for the kids and get everything home and set up before I picked the kids up.
I know this is going to be hard to believe, but things did not go exactly as planned... I went clothes shopping and essentially bought the basics of a new wardrobe. Two pairs of dressy (and comfy) pants and seven shirts. All things that make me look and feel good and are nice enough to wear to work.
I needed to pick up a few random things and wanted to get a fish bowl (because back in the day when I was a kid, we kept goldfish in a fishbowl in plain old tapwater. Apparently it doesn't work like that anymore...) so I went to the devil store (WalMart). I usually try to shop Zellers because it's Canadian but the devil store was closer and much bigger so it was there I went. I picked up the odds and ends I was looking for and then found the pet section. It's really not a pet section as they don't sell any pets there, rather it is a pet paraphernalia section and I figured that I could get the basics there and then head to a pet store to get the actual fish.
Have you looked at buying fish lately? Yes, there are still fishbowls but there are so many other things. And there were all kinds of water conditioner that each worked best for different kinds of fish because they can't live in tapwater. And different kinds of food for each kind of fish. And even special tanks/bowls/containers for different kinds of fish. The last time I had fish was at least 30 years ago. I guess our tap water was more 'natural' then, because our fish lived just fine in it. We cleaned the bowl about once a week and all was well. I say that loosely because once when my brother, M, was cleaning the fishbowl, he filled a jar of water to put the fish in while he cleaned the bowl. He realized the water in the jar was too hot so he dumped it out and put in cooler water. He then put the fish in, the fish swam into the side of the jar and died as soon as he touched the hot glass... We also had guppies (where have all the guppies gone?) that sometimes jumped out of the jar and went down the drain. Hmmmmm, since then I have seen Finding Nemo and I wonder now if they were following the adage: All drains lead to the ocean. Not these drains, fishies!
Anyway, I was so confused so instead of buying any of the fish stuff there I went to Petland. I figured they could set me up with something pretty basic. Was I ever surprised when the only goldfish they had were 'feeder fish' and they said they wouldn't be good pets. What?! Fish are never good pets.Except Mexican Walking Fish. Looking back, I can't believe I listened to them. But listen to them I did which is why about 20 minutes later I walked out with $60 worth of fish and equipment. Of course I had to buy two fish because if A had one then Z needed one. That was one fight not worth having. And I bought betta fish - you know, the ones that have to live in separate tanks or they will kill each other? Not so unlike kids...
I do have to add that the pet store really freaked me out. I like animals well enough. And I like fish. I have snorkeled and let them nibble on me and had no problem with it. But all of those fish in all of those tanks... and these betta fish each in it's own little bowl ... I was so disgusted by all of it that I couldn't even pick the fish out. I just had the girl pick them for me, looking at them made me queasy and uneasy. For some reason the whole ordeal completely disgusted me.
It was about -10 Celcius that day. At the store they told me that I could only keep the fish in the bags for about an hour and that they could not be in the car without the car running and warm for more than a few minutes. I still had to pick up Z at daycare and A at my Mom's. So I drove to get Z, rushed him into the car and got stuck in traffic getting to A. My hour was dwindling quickly. I knew that I could not leave the fish in the car for more than a few minutes because they would freeze, so I called ahead and A was ready for me when I got to my Mom's so we didn't have to go in. Because we would have been way longer than a few minutes.
We got home, I had about 5 minutes left of my hour so I knew I had to hustle. I got the kids out of the car, got all the bags out of the back (all the clothes, odds and ends, fish, and fish tanks, A's backpack and my purse and computer bag) and managed to get everything and both kids to the apartment without any major catastrophes. Until I opened the door. To a flood.
A flood!!!! I don't know if I mentioned it but I had a fire about 8 months ago. And with the karma I've had lately I guess I should have expected a flood, really. The kitchen floor had inches of water on it and it all came up through the sink drain. I kept the kids in the hall and called my super from my cell. He came in, said Holy Shit, called a plumber. Meanwhile, I had these fish that were going to die any second if I didn't get them in water. And inasmuch as I wanted to just throw them on the kitchen floor and let them swim around there, I held back.
Did I mention that the fish were a surprise? So I got the kids in front of the tv with instructions to not get off the couch No Matter What. Went to my bathroom where there is thankfully lots of counter space, and started reading the instructions for these betta tanks. (They call them tanks but they are really just plastic containers with air holes) I had to put the decorative rocks in the tank, suction the tree down (although I didn't read that part so I put the rocks and water in first and then sort of buried the suction cup thing under the rocks. One of the trees is floating around) then I had to get the right temperature water in the tanks. The girl (she was very young so I can call her a , right? Or am I getting old?) told me that the water should be a bit cooler than room temperature. The instructions told me it should be lukewarm. I settled for room temp. I put opened up the tops of the fishbags and put each bag into a tank to acclimatize the water so the poor fish wouldn't be shocked by a water temp change.
This sounds like it may have not taken very long. But please remember that while I was doing it I had to keep the kids from going into the kitchen, discovered that the carpet was soaked through in some places, answer questions the plumber asked and get my head around the fact that my place was flooded. So - I finally get the fish in the water, they are still alive, and I bring the kids in. A took one look at her fish (which is purple and blue and very pretty) and said, in a disgusted and horrified voice: I don't want a fish anymore, Mommy.
Now, I admit that I swear in front of my kids, but I do not swear at them. I heard her say it, looked at her and growled: Are you fucking kidding me? I was So Angry. But I had no time to really dwell on it because at that point the carpet guy was there and I had to figure out where we were going to sleep that night since it couldn't be at home. The plumber had no idea how long things were going to take and the noise from the plumber's shop vac was scaring the kids. So I called my Mom, packed a bag, and took the kids to her house.
The long and short of it is that we were out of the house for two nights which sucked but really, it could have been so much worse. None of us got sick from breathing in the fumes from gray water, nothing got destroyed that was irreplaceable.
A likes her fish now. She named it Goldie. Z originally named his Chocolate Chip, which I think is a fabulous name for a fish, but changed it to Goldie when he heard A's name. Z and I have discussed it quite explicitly and he knows that he is not allowed to touch, play with, or eat his fish. He can show it things, talk to it and sing to it, which he does. He really enjoys showing his fish playing cards. So he plays cards with his fish while A and I play fish with some cards...
That same day I got up in the morning and had nothing to wear that made me feel good about myself. I realized that had been happening a lot and I thought back to that post I wrote about my being fine with the fact that I'm fat because I make sure I have nice things to wear that fit properly so I can feel good about myself. And I didn't have those things and was not feeling good about myself so I decided to go shopping. I took the day off work so I could clothes shop for myself and then buy fish for the kids and get everything home and set up before I picked the kids up.
I know this is going to be hard to believe, but things did not go exactly as planned... I went clothes shopping and essentially bought the basics of a new wardrobe. Two pairs of dressy (and comfy) pants and seven shirts. All things that make me look and feel good and are nice enough to wear to work.
I needed to pick up a few random things and wanted to get a fish bowl (because back in the day when I was a kid, we kept goldfish in a fishbowl in plain old tapwater. Apparently it doesn't work like that anymore...) so I went to the devil store (WalMart). I usually try to shop Zellers because it's Canadian but the devil store was closer and much bigger so it was there I went. I picked up the odds and ends I was looking for and then found the pet section. It's really not a pet section as they don't sell any pets there, rather it is a pet paraphernalia section and I figured that I could get the basics there and then head to a pet store to get the actual fish.
Have you looked at buying fish lately? Yes, there are still fishbowls but there are so many other things. And there were all kinds of water conditioner that each worked best for different kinds of fish because they can't live in tapwater. And different kinds of food for each kind of fish. And even special tanks/bowls/containers for different kinds of fish. The last time I had fish was at least 30 years ago. I guess our tap water was more 'natural' then, because our fish lived just fine in it. We cleaned the bowl about once a week and all was well. I say that loosely because once when my brother, M, was cleaning the fishbowl, he filled a jar of water to put the fish in while he cleaned the bowl. He realized the water in the jar was too hot so he dumped it out and put in cooler water. He then put the fish in, the fish swam into the side of the jar and died as soon as he touched the hot glass... We also had guppies (where have all the guppies gone?) that sometimes jumped out of the jar and went down the drain. Hmmmmm, since then I have seen Finding Nemo and I wonder now if they were following the adage: All drains lead to the ocean. Not these drains, fishies!
Anyway, I was so confused so instead of buying any of the fish stuff there I went to Petland. I figured they could set me up with something pretty basic. Was I ever surprised when the only goldfish they had were 'feeder fish' and they said they wouldn't be good pets. What?! Fish are never good pets.Except Mexican Walking Fish. Looking back, I can't believe I listened to them. But listen to them I did which is why about 20 minutes later I walked out with $60 worth of fish and equipment. Of course I had to buy two fish because if A had one then Z needed one. That was one fight not worth having. And I bought betta fish - you know, the ones that have to live in separate tanks or they will kill each other? Not so unlike kids...
I do have to add that the pet store really freaked me out. I like animals well enough. And I like fish. I have snorkeled and let them nibble on me and had no problem with it. But all of those fish in all of those tanks... and these betta fish each in it's own little bowl ... I was so disgusted by all of it that I couldn't even pick the fish out. I just had the girl pick them for me, looking at them made me queasy and uneasy. For some reason the whole ordeal completely disgusted me.
It was about -10 Celcius that day. At the store they told me that I could only keep the fish in the bags for about an hour and that they could not be in the car without the car running and warm for more than a few minutes. I still had to pick up Z at daycare and A at my Mom's. So I drove to get Z, rushed him into the car and got stuck in traffic getting to A. My hour was dwindling quickly. I knew that I could not leave the fish in the car for more than a few minutes because they would freeze, so I called ahead and A was ready for me when I got to my Mom's so we didn't have to go in. Because we would have been way longer than a few minutes.
We got home, I had about 5 minutes left of my hour so I knew I had to hustle. I got the kids out of the car, got all the bags out of the back (all the clothes, odds and ends, fish, and fish tanks, A's backpack and my purse and computer bag) and managed to get everything and both kids to the apartment without any major catastrophes. Until I opened the door. To a flood.
A flood!!!! I don't know if I mentioned it but I had a fire about 8 months ago. And with the karma I've had lately I guess I should have expected a flood, really. The kitchen floor had inches of water on it and it all came up through the sink drain. I kept the kids in the hall and called my super from my cell. He came in, said Holy Shit, called a plumber. Meanwhile, I had these fish that were going to die any second if I didn't get them in water. And inasmuch as I wanted to just throw them on the kitchen floor and let them swim around there, I held back.
Did I mention that the fish were a surprise? So I got the kids in front of the tv with instructions to not get off the couch No Matter What. Went to my bathroom where there is thankfully lots of counter space, and started reading the instructions for these betta tanks. (They call them tanks but they are really just plastic containers with air holes) I had to put the decorative rocks in the tank, suction the tree down (although I didn't read that part so I put the rocks and water in first and then sort of buried the suction cup thing under the rocks. One of the trees is floating around) then I had to get the right temperature water in the tanks. The girl (she was very young so I can call her a , right? Or am I getting old?) told me that the water should be a bit cooler than room temperature. The instructions told me it should be lukewarm. I settled for room temp. I put opened up the tops of the fishbags and put each bag into a tank to acclimatize the water so the poor fish wouldn't be shocked by a water temp change.
This sounds like it may have not taken very long. But please remember that while I was doing it I had to keep the kids from going into the kitchen, discovered that the carpet was soaked through in some places, answer questions the plumber asked and get my head around the fact that my place was flooded. So - I finally get the fish in the water, they are still alive, and I bring the kids in. A took one look at her fish (which is purple and blue and very pretty) and said, in a disgusted and horrified voice: I don't want a fish anymore, Mommy.
Now, I admit that I swear in front of my kids, but I do not swear at them. I heard her say it, looked at her and growled: Are you fucking kidding me? I was So Angry. But I had no time to really dwell on it because at that point the carpet guy was there and I had to figure out where we were going to sleep that night since it couldn't be at home. The plumber had no idea how long things were going to take and the noise from the plumber's shop vac was scaring the kids. So I called my Mom, packed a bag, and took the kids to her house.
The long and short of it is that we were out of the house for two nights which sucked but really, it could have been so much worse. None of us got sick from breathing in the fumes from gray water, nothing got destroyed that was irreplaceable.
A likes her fish now. She named it Goldie. Z originally named his Chocolate Chip, which I think is a fabulous name for a fish, but changed it to Goldie when he heard A's name. Z and I have discussed it quite explicitly and he knows that he is not allowed to touch, play with, or eat his fish. He can show it things, talk to it and sing to it, which he does. He really enjoys showing his fish playing cards. So he plays cards with his fish while A and I play fish with some cards...
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Stop Yelling!
I am so tired of yelling. Of mine and of A's. There are so many things she says and does that reflect on me in a such a great way, like when she speaks kindly and I hear my words coming back to me. But then I hear her yelling and know that came from me as well.
Yesterday was not a great day here at one point. A splashed water all over me during bathtime and I got Mad because I have told her so many times not to. And I mean soaked my clothes, not just a light spray of water. And I yelled at her, ended the kids' bath, got them lotioned, dressed and put on their current favourite movie Lilo and Stitch and then I gave myself a time out.
I went to my room and lay down on the bed. A started yelling to me to get something for her and I ignored her (that's one my things now - when she tells me to do something for her by yelling from another room I completely ignore her. If she comes up to me and tells me to do something I have her re-phrase it into a polite request). She came into my room and told me again so I told her that I was in a time out and that I wasn't allowed out of my room yet. I told her that I would let her know when I was and that she could ask me for what she wanted then.
She left and I lay there thinking: Do I get to have one minute of time out for every year old I am? Do I get a time out for 39 minutes? Because that would Rock! I would love to not be allowed out of my room for 39 minutes when I was behaving badly. That is actually enough time to rest, relax, calm down, and re-assess what's really bothering me. Because in all reality the kids' behaviour isn't that bad. I obviously am very high strung right now and it is affecting me pretty intensely. Stress is unbelievably grating and time outs are a wonderful stress reliever. Now that I know how necessary they are to re-group I am going to start using them more. But I will send the kids to their room, not make them sit in a chair in the same room they lost it. Being removed from the situation is really the best way to deal with it, in my opinion.
I told A and Z that there will not be yelling allowed anymore. That if I yell then I get a time out (they need to tell me when I'm yelling in case I don't realize myself) and same goes for them. I'm also taking more deep breaths. It seems to help ground me.
Speaking of grounding me, I have this friend I haven't been hanging out with much lately and we saw each other again the other day. I realized that this person grounds me and helps me find my way back to myself so quickly and easily. One of the reasons I have been so stressed is because I am feeling the void in my life. It's unreal how someone else's energy can be so healing, calming.
On the flip side, when I lived in Toronto I had a friend who I worked with who made me so crazy irritated all the time but I really liked being with him. He made me so nuts that I would sometimes have to leave the restaurant, room, wherever we were because he was making me so mad/crazy/irritated/. He brought out this passion in me that was not the kind of passion we read about. It was raw passion, nothing to do with desire, sex, anything like that. And being with him made me feel so alive. That's how this friendship is, but it's healing, not crazy-making.
I'm working through it. I'm going to take you all with me. I left you behind for a bit but I like having you all to answer to. It forces me to actually do the work and become the best me I can be. And really - isn't that the whole point?
Yesterday was not a great day here at one point. A splashed water all over me during bathtime and I got Mad because I have told her so many times not to. And I mean soaked my clothes, not just a light spray of water. And I yelled at her, ended the kids' bath, got them lotioned, dressed and put on their current favourite movie Lilo and Stitch and then I gave myself a time out.
I went to my room and lay down on the bed. A started yelling to me to get something for her and I ignored her (that's one my things now - when she tells me to do something for her by yelling from another room I completely ignore her. If she comes up to me and tells me to do something I have her re-phrase it into a polite request). She came into my room and told me again so I told her that I was in a time out and that I wasn't allowed out of my room yet. I told her that I would let her know when I was and that she could ask me for what she wanted then.
She left and I lay there thinking: Do I get to have one minute of time out for every year old I am? Do I get a time out for 39 minutes? Because that would Rock! I would love to not be allowed out of my room for 39 minutes when I was behaving badly. That is actually enough time to rest, relax, calm down, and re-assess what's really bothering me. Because in all reality the kids' behaviour isn't that bad. I obviously am very high strung right now and it is affecting me pretty intensely. Stress is unbelievably grating and time outs are a wonderful stress reliever. Now that I know how necessary they are to re-group I am going to start using them more. But I will send the kids to their room, not make them sit in a chair in the same room they lost it. Being removed from the situation is really the best way to deal with it, in my opinion.
I told A and Z that there will not be yelling allowed anymore. That if I yell then I get a time out (they need to tell me when I'm yelling in case I don't realize myself) and same goes for them. I'm also taking more deep breaths. It seems to help ground me.
Speaking of grounding me, I have this friend I haven't been hanging out with much lately and we saw each other again the other day. I realized that this person grounds me and helps me find my way back to myself so quickly and easily. One of the reasons I have been so stressed is because I am feeling the void in my life. It's unreal how someone else's energy can be so healing, calming.
On the flip side, when I lived in Toronto I had a friend who I worked with who made me so crazy irritated all the time but I really liked being with him. He made me so nuts that I would sometimes have to leave the restaurant, room, wherever we were because he was making me so mad/crazy/irritated/. He brought out this passion in me that was not the kind of passion we read about. It was raw passion, nothing to do with desire, sex, anything like that. And being with him made me feel so alive. That's how this friendship is, but it's healing, not crazy-making.
I'm working through it. I'm going to take you all with me. I left you behind for a bit but I like having you all to answer to. It forces me to actually do the work and become the best me I can be. And really - isn't that the whole point?
Saturday, December 4, 2010
So ashamed...
I am so ashamed of myself. I stopped blogging. And that means that I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing and what was going on around me. Not a good way to be. For me, anyway. So here I am...
A lot of what has been happening in the past few weeks is not bloggable at this point. Either because legally I shouldn't be talking about it, or emotionally I don't want to deal with it and am not ready to share it. Suffice it to say that I thought my divorce from x was going to be clean and easy. Before we got married we discussed how we felt about marriage. We agreed that we would work through everything except four things:
1. Cheating
2. Abuse (emotional or physical)
3. Religion (If one of us joined a cult and became fervently religious in a way that wasn't agreeable)
4. Mental Incapacitation (though accident or disease)
If any of these four things occurred, the other person was allowed to walk away and not look back. They were immediate grounds for divorce if the non-offending party wanted that. Except in #4 you had to make sure the other person was taken care of properly.
Well, one of those four things happened and so, according to our agreement, divorce should simply be accepted by the offending person. Well, he's not making it easy. And unfortunately that's all I can say about it right now because this, as the other major thing in my life that I would like to be writing about, are open court cases and I can't discuss them.
How about if I write about parenting? I have to say that I have so much respect for those parents,single or otherwise, who don't lose their temper and yell at their kids. But really, do those people exist? Kids are irritating. Plain and simple. I know that not everyone feels like this - some people think it's cute and funny when they throw toys all over the place or make a huge mess while they are eating, or ask for something and then after I've made it don't want it anymore and it goes to waste. Those kid-lovers definitely have a leg up when it comes to kids. I, personally, think that so much about how kids are absolutely suck. I'm just not a kid person.
I do like my kids as people, and like them more and more the older they get so that's good. They are funny, smart, kind, silly, focused, interesting and interested. I keep looking at those things and telling myself that the irritating kid things will end. Z will eventually be toilet trained instead of giving an adamant NO when I ask if he wants to try the potty. A will stop having tantrums about nothing. (probably she won't stop that for many many years but I'm looking Far Ahead to the end of those!) But they won't make huge messes when they eat, they will be able to sit still for longer than 3 minutes, it will be easier to run errands with them because they will be able to get in and out of the car on their own, things like that. And eventually, and I know this is far in the future, they will be able to stay home alone and I will have a little bit more freedom.
I have a very good friend, L. She has two kids and the little one, E, just turned three. E also started at school half days this past September. L cried when 'her baby' went to school. And I said that shows a huge difference between her and I. When my kids are both at school I will be celebrating. I told her it's because she likes her kids more than I like mine. She started to refute that and I stopped her saying that it's true. She likes little kids and finds them cute and funny whereas I find them annoying and irritating. I don't believe she loves her kids more than I love mine, but she digs their antics.
I certainly don't spend all my time yelling at my kids. I play with them, read to them, talk to them, listen to them, take them places, introduce them to new people, places and things. I give them lots of love and kisses and cuddles. I listen to their music (even though I don't like it) and let them watch cartoons, and do knock-knock jokes with them ad nauseum. Do I enjoy it? Sometimes I love it! Other times, not so much.
But I am the one who decided to have these kids and they are my responsibility. And I don't take it lightly. I wish that I was sharing the parenting with another responsible, loving adult. Unfortunately x mis-represented himself in that manner and so it is much better that I am doing this alone than with him. But I really think that kids should have more than one adult who they can go to when they have a problem. Thankfully my kids do have more adults than just me. They have my parents who they see frequently, they have K who is our respite worker and one of the best gifts the universe has ever provided to us. They have aunts and uncles, teachers and a day-care mom. So they aren't lacking for adults but I seem to be lacking for adults. I guess I have spent more time making sure their needs are being taken care of than mine. Which stands to reason since one of the things I really have to learn better is how to take care of myself.
Yesterday Z went into my room, came out and handed me a book on Taoist Meditation: Methods for Cultivating a Healthy Mind and Body. I have no idea how he got it because he would have had to climb over a bunch of furniture to my windowsill to get it but he was only in there for about 15 seconds. So I guess he is aware that I need to be taking better care of myself and gave me a tool so I can start. I figure if he is giving me suggestions then the least I can do is read the book...
And so I will begin the journey into Taoist Meditation. I will keep you posted!
A lot of what has been happening in the past few weeks is not bloggable at this point. Either because legally I shouldn't be talking about it, or emotionally I don't want to deal with it and am not ready to share it. Suffice it to say that I thought my divorce from x was going to be clean and easy. Before we got married we discussed how we felt about marriage. We agreed that we would work through everything except four things:
1. Cheating
2. Abuse (emotional or physical)
3. Religion (If one of us joined a cult and became fervently religious in a way that wasn't agreeable)
4. Mental Incapacitation (though accident or disease)
If any of these four things occurred, the other person was allowed to walk away and not look back. They were immediate grounds for divorce if the non-offending party wanted that. Except in #4 you had to make sure the other person was taken care of properly.
Well, one of those four things happened and so, according to our agreement, divorce should simply be accepted by the offending person. Well, he's not making it easy. And unfortunately that's all I can say about it right now because this, as the other major thing in my life that I would like to be writing about, are open court cases and I can't discuss them.
How about if I write about parenting? I have to say that I have so much respect for those parents,single or otherwise, who don't lose their temper and yell at their kids. But really, do those people exist? Kids are irritating. Plain and simple. I know that not everyone feels like this - some people think it's cute and funny when they throw toys all over the place or make a huge mess while they are eating, or ask for something and then after I've made it don't want it anymore and it goes to waste. Those kid-lovers definitely have a leg up when it comes to kids. I, personally, think that so much about how kids are absolutely suck. I'm just not a kid person.
I do like my kids as people, and like them more and more the older they get so that's good. They are funny, smart, kind, silly, focused, interesting and interested. I keep looking at those things and telling myself that the irritating kid things will end. Z will eventually be toilet trained instead of giving an adamant NO when I ask if he wants to try the potty. A will stop having tantrums about nothing. (probably she won't stop that for many many years but I'm looking Far Ahead to the end of those!) But they won't make huge messes when they eat, they will be able to sit still for longer than 3 minutes, it will be easier to run errands with them because they will be able to get in and out of the car on their own, things like that. And eventually, and I know this is far in the future, they will be able to stay home alone and I will have a little bit more freedom.
I have a very good friend, L. She has two kids and the little one, E, just turned three. E also started at school half days this past September. L cried when 'her baby' went to school. And I said that shows a huge difference between her and I. When my kids are both at school I will be celebrating. I told her it's because she likes her kids more than I like mine. She started to refute that and I stopped her saying that it's true. She likes little kids and finds them cute and funny whereas I find them annoying and irritating. I don't believe she loves her kids more than I love mine, but she digs their antics.
I certainly don't spend all my time yelling at my kids. I play with them, read to them, talk to them, listen to them, take them places, introduce them to new people, places and things. I give them lots of love and kisses and cuddles. I listen to their music (even though I don't like it) and let them watch cartoons, and do knock-knock jokes with them ad nauseum. Do I enjoy it? Sometimes I love it! Other times, not so much.
But I am the one who decided to have these kids and they are my responsibility. And I don't take it lightly. I wish that I was sharing the parenting with another responsible, loving adult. Unfortunately x mis-represented himself in that manner and so it is much better that I am doing this alone than with him. But I really think that kids should have more than one adult who they can go to when they have a problem. Thankfully my kids do have more adults than just me. They have my parents who they see frequently, they have K who is our respite worker and one of the best gifts the universe has ever provided to us. They have aunts and uncles, teachers and a day-care mom. So they aren't lacking for adults but I seem to be lacking for adults. I guess I have spent more time making sure their needs are being taken care of than mine. Which stands to reason since one of the things I really have to learn better is how to take care of myself.
Yesterday Z went into my room, came out and handed me a book on Taoist Meditation: Methods for Cultivating a Healthy Mind and Body. I have no idea how he got it because he would have had to climb over a bunch of furniture to my windowsill to get it but he was only in there for about 15 seconds. So I guess he is aware that I need to be taking better care of myself and gave me a tool so I can start. I figure if he is giving me suggestions then the least I can do is read the book...
And so I will begin the journey into Taoist Meditation. I will keep you posted!
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