I Can't Stop Buying Books

I may have to enter Book-a-holics Anonymous.

I can't stop buying books. It used to be shoes and purses. I was always in pursuit of Purse Nirvana, just the right amount of pockets in the right places... but I've come to realize, in the last few years, I have left these behind. I have moved on...books. My vice.

As project "declutter house" continues, I realize that each room has book piles..my bedroom, which seems to be the worst, has books piled on dresser, floor, night table, in closet...My bookshelves are full already...so where to put them? There's the pile of urgent reads, then the semi-urgent pile from the library, the classics pile, the young adult pile...


The Great Glebe Garage Sale draws me in every year for more books. New books, the spine still cracking...read once, full price paid...I can hardly contain myself.....I just can't understand how someone can sell their books (Sigh).

Then, just down the road, another book sale...a whole bag of used books, and were talking reusable, Olympic size bag, for only $10. I went hog wild.

Then, purchasing gifts for friends via Amazon...well I had to throw in a few for myself, of course to reach the free shipping limit.

And then Stieg Larsson had to go ahead and write 3 great novels. I was able to get "The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" at the library. But the problem then became, I was hooked, and had to buy the second book. I have restrained myself and have not yet purchased the third. Breathe.

Sam and Andy (Rookie Blue): Sink or Swim

My Girl Crush

I started watching the new TV series Rookie Blue and I'm crushing on Missy Peregrym who plays Andy McNally. Her chemistry with Sam Swarek is sizzling with electricity.

“What do you mean girl crushing?” My husband asked looking a little alarmed. “Well, it's something that happens frequently with women,” I tried explaining, but I got the blank stare.

You meet someone new. They are fantastic. Interesting, animated, full of positive energy. Instantly, you have tons in common. You realize there is a bond. You can't wait to see them again. You feel slightly jealous when they are talking to someone else. Not only are they beautiful and have great teeth, but they are full of life. You are excited to see to them....

No, you are not suddenly switching teams, you have a girl crush.

I showed my hubby the definition according to http://www.urbandictionary.com/. A girl crush occurs when you (a girl) have feelings of admiration and adoration for another girl, without wanting to shag said girl. It is a nonsexual attraction, usually based on veneration at some level. Feelings of general euphoria, prolonged sense of inspiration, desire for intellectual-intercourse occur.

So hun, don't worry, it's just a girl crush.

Who are you girl crushing on?

The Quagmire of Pre-Mid Life

I ponder whether my mid life crisis has arrived a little early. As I watch the local teenagers walk to the neighbourhood high school for their summer program, I feel a sudden pang, aching, a longing to be back at that point in my life. I watch them with awe. They seem to have it all. With their tight little jeans, lean bodies, lustrous hair in their eyes. No responsibilities, except to get good grades and do the dishes every so often.

Driving the kids to summer camp, I sit at the stoplight waiting for it to turn green and watch them with envy. I haven't brushed my hair or my teeth. My clothes are a repeat from yesterday. I've had coffee for breakfast and my knees are aching from a 20 minute bike ride I took last night. As I watch them, I wonder, what teen angst could they possibly have? Maybe which zit cream to buy and whether their g-string is peaking out their low rise skinny jeans. Their lives seem so uncomplicated.

They are not worrying about atypical skin rashes, clogged toilets, instilling healthy eating habits, decluttering the house, getting enough exercise to ward of heart disease, and the other mundane issues that overwhelm us mid-lifers. “Good grief,” as Charlie Brown would say.

Somehow, my son telling me he loves my jelly belly, does nothing for the ego. The other day, a friend called me a skinny little B.x@#$%th. After a moment of shock, I actually felt like crying. Tears of happiness. No one had called me skinny in such a long time. I wanted to jump for joy.

I guess my frosh 15 plus my mommy 10, have now combined to be my new normal. Instead of skinny jeans, I have my camouflage outfits, billowing tops to hide the jelly belly, undergarments that suck in the back fat with good old Lycra strength. It was like getting asked for ID at the Liquor store when it is clear you are way over 19.

Getting older feels synonymous with trying to get your life under control. Because once you have it under control, then you have found an equilibrium. Right? All your problems are suddenly solved, Poof. I'll let you know if this is true when I get there. I'm still trying to clean out the basement.

Stressing out over peanut butter on the banister, the unused elliptical trainer in the basement corner, the unfulfilled life long dreams that haven't yet been accomplished, or the fact that you haven't saved the world from global warming yet all fester inside you. Making your mark on the world and leaving a legacy while at the same time raising kids, nurturing your relationships, and making time for your own needs feels a little daunting.

I guess I still need to come to terms with the fact that I am no longer a spring chicken. In fact, I'm fighting, kicking and screaming. A little uncouth. It is like leaving behind your true identity.

My friends who have passed into their 40's, say it is the best time of their lives. They say this with conviction and this gives me hope that I too will soon accomplish this same sense of contentedness.

Decluttering My Life

There are piles everywhere.



Piles of unopened mail.... Piles of opened mail.... Piles of dirty laundry.... Piles of folded clothing.... Piles of To Do Lists.... Piles of toys.... Lovely Piles.

I ask myself daily, how do I gain control over all these piles? It feels like decluttering the house is a full time job as I go from room to room and return things to their “normal usual” spot. “A place for everything and everything in its place.” But what happens when you run out of places?

In our household, it seems that clutter can only be tackled by someone with the XX chromosome because of their superpower clutter-vision goggles. Somehow the clutter sneaks into my home and before you know it, every surface that I have just cleared is somehow full again.

My kids come home from camp with an armload of new paintings and crafts. (Sigh...) Although these art works are multi-purpose, they camouflage my 1970's kitchen cabinets while at the same time prominently display their potential artistic talents, they are beginning to get out of control. After 5 years, the cabinet space has diminished and I'm not sure where to hang them.

Next, Grandma arrives with new toys from Dollarama. Need I say more?

Adding to the heap of clutter, my kids like to collect garbage. If we are walking down the street and they stumble upon a lid to a pop bottle, a cracked piece of plastic, or a broken toy that has been run over by numerous cars, this then becomes their favourite item. God forbid you get caught throwing it out or they notice it missing.

Their second favourite pastime is making paper planes and other origami which involves cutting endless amounts of construction paper. I will be investing a good portion of my retirement in paper mill stocks when I return to work. Their bedroom is filling up with these paper planes and animals.

As the clutter becomes more pronounced, taking over the dining room table and kitchen counters, I start to have fantasies about buying more shelving, furniture with hidden storage compartments, just somewhere, anywhere to store more stuff.

I have this dream that clearing the clutter from my home will make my transition into the working world successful, and of course, stress free. It will transform my house into a state of nirvana, a peaceful place to rest my mind.

So, my goal over the next month is to organize the house and rid it of any extraneous items.

Hello Goodwill...hello garbage...hello Kijiji.

Do you think the kids will notice when I start selling their toys?

Motherhood

Today, on multiple occasions, I cleaned poopy underwear. Not something I can say I really enjoy doing. My one year leave of absence, to take on the job of "stay at home mom", is slowly coming to an end. It has been a year of change, reflection, transition, tears, smiles, scraped knees, kites, and many many toilet adventures.

I've relished this time with my kids and can't even fathom a different routine on the horizon. It has been the toughest job I've ever done.

No pay. No breaks. Broken sleep. Free, unlimited whine.

Spending a full day with kids makes all other jobs seem... simple. After this stay at home mom position, I can do any job, blindfolded, with both hands tied behind my back. Bring it on!!!

Thinking back to those long winter days, training for the Olympic event of Snowsuit dressing, brings on a sudden hot flash. It's post traumatic stress disorder. How I felt like cursing every time I had to get them into their boots, snowsuits, hats, gloves,and scarves before the school bell went or someone had to go to the bathroom.

I admit, it was a hard year. I didn't always enjoy it. (Am I allowed to say that out loud?) The monotony of the household chores is pure drudgery. I had to remind myself everyday to take it one hour at a time. Enjoy the moment. Breathe. They will not be throwing sand at each other, or pooping in their underwear, or spilling their milk all over the table, wall and clothing when they are 17. Hopefully.

They are growing and this time will soon be behind us. September brings grade 1 and Kindergarten. The mommy groups, play dates, the glasses of red wine while reading a good mommy book helped get me through the rough patches.

Here are the top four. Each of these books describe how chaotic motherhood can be. My favourites are Everyone is Beautiful and Mitten Strings for God, Reflections for Mothers In A Hurry.

Everyone is Beautiful by Katherine Centre

Mitten Strings for God, Reflections for Mothers in a Hurry by Katrina Kenison

The Yummy Mummy by Polly Williams

The Secret Life of A Slummy Mummy by Fiona Neill

High School Reunion

Can friendship survive a 20 year hiatus? Returning this weekend from my high school reunion, I sit pondering the phenomena of friendship. As I walked through the door and saw all the faces, so familiar, yet changed, it brought back a flood of memories and emotions. Bonds forged over foolish pranks, shared cigarettes on the sidewalk, the white cabriolet and the daily banter at the lunch table.

Math class held some of my favorite memories. The whole class seemed to participate wholeheartedly in the mischief. A silent pledge made between us. A connection that made us giddy. One day, our ring leader emptied a can of sardines behind a cabinet. The stench was unbearable. In our infinite wisdom, we thought the only solution our teacher would come to, would be to cancel class. We sat waiting. Mr. Macintosh (God bless him for he was really tolerant) ignored us as we all looked at each other. Misery loves company.

"Operation O" needs to be mentioned as well. It illustrates just how wonderfully creative the teen mind can be. A group of boys decided to put an Octopus corpse, courtesy of the local Knob Hill Farms Meat Department into the piano in the school Cafetorium. After rotting for a few months, the smell in the lunch area was simply, rank, fetid, foul. Although we could no longer eat in the Cafetorium for a period of time, the students didn't mind. Our little secret created a bond. Us against them. It was a time when we were free from any real responsibility, yet bound to the school. We all survived the raging hormones, final exams, and cafeteria food. And as our valedictorian pointed out, "Amazingly, we all turned out OK."