Time will tell

Time. It's a funny thing. One of 2 guarantees in life is that it will pass with no chance of a do-over. Once it's gone, it's gone. As much as we wish life had a pause and a rewind button, it doesn't. There are songs written about time and it has given many a poet a melancholy friendly topic, not to mention the many cliches.

Time keeps on slippin' slippin' slippin' into the future

Time heals all wounds

There is a time and a place for every purpose under heaven

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times


Case in point, it's been 3 years since I've blogged. Life has been busy with hockey practice, hockey games, dance, swimming, ringette, baseball, work, and all the other day to day stuff in between. There was always a fleeting thought that I was going to come back and start writing here again but then was quickly forgotten. Until recently.

A small but very obvious milestone happened a couple of days ago to my son. I can tell you the exact moment and what I was doing when it hit me. And that night, as I lay in bed heavy with regret, I mentally kicked myself for not writing things down, not taking more pictures and not keeping up with the blog. The sole reason I started this was that I had an outlet where I could write about my kids so I would never forget. I knew that this time would come and thought I was prepared for it but it hit me like a friggin' freight train. The onset of puberty smacked me straight in the face, ahh, ummm, ok, more like hit me in the nose and I was not ready.

I made my way to the drugstore the next morning with the intention of purchasing deodorant for my son for the first time. I had a tinge of sadness as I allowed the realization of how much his life was about to change sink into my head. Come on Lisa, you knew this day was coming. We talked about it, prepared him for it. This is not a big deal.

I stood in front of a wall of choices as my eyes scanned the options for pit stick. Gillette, Axe, Speed Stick, Dove...hmmm, wow...Dove makes deodorant for men now? Wait a second, mens deodorant? Where is the children's' deodorant? I can't buy mens deodorant, he's a child. He's my boy, my baby, my first born, I can't buy him mens deodorant!! Then, it hit me. Straight up whacked me upside the head. He's not a baby anymore. There was a rising panic in my chest followed by a funny, hiccup noise that had escaped as a sob rose in my throat. Nope, not ready for this, I thought, as I made my way out of there and to the closest bathroom. By the time I made it into a stall, I was already into the ugly cry.
I'm not ready for this....I want some time back.

When did he grow from this


To this?


But then, as time passed, sitting there in the bathroom stall, I realized how wonderful a human he is, not just a great kid, but a great human being. Kind, sweet, smart, honest, fair, loving and funny. He encompasses everything that a great man should be. He's still got a lot of growing up to do but he's on the right path and I couldn't be more proud or have more love for this young man than I do today.

If nothing else, our house will smell better.

10 years of wedded bliss

I dug out one of my old journals from 2001 last night and read the entries from the days leading up to my wedding on August 4th. I smiled at my thoughts of excitement, anticipation and the worry that it would rain. We had an out door wedding with absolutely no plan B. Thank goodness Gerry, Marc's grandfather who had passed away earlier that year, was listening to my prayers. He turned up the heat, WAY up. It turned out to be the hottest day of the summer, a balmy 43 degrees. The humidex killed my curls but the girls at Rapunzel in Gananoque still did a wonderful job.

I remember Kir Royales shared with my girls, the photographer arriving early, the Minister not showing up at all and finally the vows over looking the water at the Glen House. The day flew by celebrating with family and friends, up until 4:30 am, drinking and dancing and then when the day came to an end, Marc lovingly removed 98 bobby pins from my hair.

My journal entry a year later was about celebrating our 1st anniversary at the same spot, eating melt in your mouth salmon and steak. We took a picture of us on the dock. In the exact same spot where we stood a year before. I had wrote that there was another couple getting married that day and that I felt sad knowing I would never do it again.

My last sentence in that entry was "I truly hope we are as happy 25 years from now as we are today". Well, I am happy to tell you there are 10 down, 15 to go. With all the love and life we've had in the past 10 I am truly optimistic for the next 15 and beyond.

And, years from now, with a thousand happy moments behind us and 2 hearts filled with lasting memories, when people ask how long we've been married I will tell them not long enough.

A Mothers love

Last night as I held my children close while we watched a movie I began thinking how quickly time was passing. They are growing up too fast and I wish I could push pause on them, just for a while, so that I could hold them close like that for a little longer.

I started wondering will they ever know how much I love them. Will they ever understand the depth of emotion and worry I have for them?

Then I thought, did my mom ever wonder that when we were little? Of course she did, she's a mom after all.

Well Mom, in case you are still wondering, the answer is yes, I do know how much.

xoxo

Going back in time

Recently, I was asked by a friend whether or not I would go back in time to re-live a moment, not to change what happened but to just be in a moment in time again. I didn't hesitate to respond, the only moments in life that I would love to revisit are:

1. The day I married the only man I've ever loved
2. The birth of my son
3. The birth of my daughter

Upon deeper reflection I remembered a hundred more memories that gave me much joy and happiness. When Marc proposed, buying our first home, when that pregnancy stick was finally positive, getting that job I wanted so badly, meeting a new friend, reconnecting with an old one, enjoying a hot cup of coffee outside on a quiet, warm morning, a walk in the woods on an autumn day, a compliment given by someone I long admired, finding a lipstick in the perfect shade. Such simple, mundane things to some but such wonderful memories for me.

A very wise man once said to me that you only get one kick at the can and as time passes you will wish you could go back to do things differently. Do it right the first time and you won't wish to do it all again.

No truer words were spoken but it is much easier said than done. However, today, I fully intend to add to the list of my moments in time that I wish to revisit. I am going to start writing them down. For when this time has passed and perhaps am wishing to have it back to do it "right", I can relive these moments and remind myself that I had it pretty good the first time.

A day without sunshine is like...night.

I really had no idea what to title this post so I went with these clever words. Funny eh?

A few nights ago at bedtime Aiden asked me what I thought heaven looked like. I wasn't sure how to respond so I went with the oldest trick in the book. Answer a question with a question.

What do you think it looks like? I asked

He thought that there would be a lot of clouds and everyone would have their own tv and you could watch as much as you wanted. And you never needed to sleep and you could play with your friends all the time, even at midnight.

I told him I liked his vision and I added that you could probably have candy for dinner every night and never get a cavity.

After a few minutes of silence he then told me he was a little worried that heaven wasn't like that at. He was scared that people just go to sleep and there was nothing except dreams in your head forever.

(....seriously, where does he get this stuff??)

I tried to explain to him that Heaven is a mysterious place and no one really knows what it's like. I told him that I believed why we don't know anything about it because all the angels are so busy having a good time up there watching tv and playing with their friends that they forget to come and tell us back on earth what it's like.

You know, I said, kind of like when you are watching tv or playing with your friends and I call you for dinner and you don't come because you are having way too much fun.

There was a very long silent moment after that and it seemed to stretch forever. So I started thinking this (and more) "OH MY GOD, what did I just say to traumatize him, why isn't he responding? I am SO screwing up my son...why don't I think carefully about my words before I speak to him about such a delicate topic? oh god, oh god...maybe I should have just dropped it, why did I have to add anything?? He's gonna need therapy for this. Should I say anything? Why isn't HE saying anything? What if I've upset him. How am I going to fix this?"

Mom?

Yes...(gulp)

If I come to dinner tomorrow when you call the first time can I have candy for dessert?

My thought process = Mom worry x 40 years
Aiden's thought process = Candy x almost 8 years.
Big difference.

What rhymes with funny?

Aiden got in trouble for swearing at school. He tells me it was a complete accident while he and his friends were playing a rhyming game. He had to find rhyming words for “chuck it”. I almost peed I laughed so hard. Parenting at its best.

So, being the kind of parents we are, Marc and I spent most of dinner telling him what other words he should be very careful with when it came to rhyming. Pluck, duck, gas, lit, fit….you get the idea. We thought making light of the situation would be better than punishing him for his mistake. Not so sure that was the wisest thing to do as dinner ended with these words.

“Mom, do I have to eat my plucking vegetables?”

Just breathe

The world is dark but surprisingly busy at 6:30 in the morning as I drive through downtown O-town to get to work. This morning was no different. Except for a bit of road rage from a middle age woman who had perfectly coiffed hair. She made it pretty clear that she was very important and her destination was far more important than anyone else.

And she was angry. I saw her middle finger go up and she was waving it around like it was a weapon.

I wonder if she had as good a day as I did. Probably not. I think anyone who starts the day with that much anger and frustration probably carried it with her for the entire day. She spent 100 times more energy on her commute this morning than I did on my daily run.

Poor her. I hope her drive home is better. For all our sakes.

Busy, busy bee

It has been a very long time since I checked in here. There has been a lot going in with me personally and the Plante Family in the past 9 months. I guess it’s too late to wish you a Happy Canada Day, Happy Halloween, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Valentines, or a Happy St. Patricks Day.

But…

I’m doing it anyway. Better late than never.

However, I can wish you a timely Happy First Day of Spring..

And, it’s snowing.

Yuck.

Lucky number 7

My life changed drastically 7 years ago today when, my son, Aiden was born. He was my first born and he had my heart from day one. I mean literally had my heart the second 2 pink stripes appeared on that pee stick I was completely in love with him.

I would like to tell you something about him in honour of this day.

He is so incredibly creative and imaginative. He loves to develop and write stories with characters in it that can only come from his ideas and thoughts.

The art that he creates, be it a picture he draws or a costume he creates, you can be sure that every detail is thought of, from spectacular laser beam guns to the extra powerful goggles that can see all the way to China.

He loves to make up games and comes up with names and rules for all of them sometimes not even taking a breath or a moment to think about it. You have to pay attention when you are playing though. New rules are added or the old rules change at the blink of an eye as the game progresses (He does own the intellectual property on them so he’s entitled).

He likes to make ‘potions’ and create things in the kitchen that Julia Child would be proud of. He is not afraid to try different things just to see what happens. He usually has me on the edge of my seat waiting for the strange reaction he is so convinced will happen.

Aiden leaves a wake of destruction behind when he is in his creative mode. It always amazes me how one little boy can leave such a mess behind. He writes one story or draws one picture and it looks like a bomb went off in the room he’s working in. Don’t even get me started on the kitchen after he’s made dessert, following the recipe in his head of course. As much as I dislike the mess now I know that it will one day, all too soon, be gone. Probably long before I am prepared for or want it to.

His creativity is but just one thing that makes up the gorgeous but complex little boy with brown hair and freckles living in my house. Trust me, I could go on, in great detail about him and all the wonder and joy he brings to us. 

As I tucked him into bed last night I asked if his last day as a 6 year old was a good one. He confided in me that he wishes he could be 6 just a little longer.

As I kissed my 7 year old goodbye this morning, so did I.

Happy birthday to my beautiful boy. May 7 be your luckiest and best year ever!

My goodbye to you

A man who I considered a friend is no longer on this earth. He died last night after a short but brave battle with cancer. He is the very first person I knew who was my age to die. Strange.

In his wake, he leaves behind many people who love him. People who will always love him and mourn him for a very long time. Ross Robertson is not a person who you quickly forget.

I remember the first time I met him, a young handsome man with a devilish smile and a wicked sense of humour. He fell in love and married my best friend and I was lucky to know him for a time. He raised my friends daughter, my beautiful god daughter, like she was his own. He loved her fiercely and completely, regardless of DNA. She felt the same way. My heart aches for her and her pain today.

He was self taught musically and could play any song on any instrument just by ear. He made up funny songs that made you laugh and leave you waiting for the next lyrical jingle he would create. He loved his family and friends. He loved to spend time in the garage ‘tinkering’ with his sleds. Marc spent hours in there with him when we visited, we knew there wasn’t a lot of tinkering going on, just beer drinking and laughing, but I know Marc is happy to have those memories of a man he considered his friend.

Sadly, their marriage ended about 2 years ago. It ended as amicably as it could have and with respect for one another but, as often with failed marriages, you leave with the person who was your friend prior to that relationship. I haven’t seen or spoken to Ross in that time. Not because I wanted the friendship to end, but because it was just awkward and strange for us to continue it. Neither of us knew how to maintain a friendship with so much baggage, so we let it go. Now, I am wishing I had just one moment back to tell him what a wonderful person he was. How amazing I think he is for taking in that little girl 16 years ago and loving her the way he did. Regardless of his faults, which we all have as human beings, I am grateful to him for the laughter and friendship we had. I am grateful for the memories of the weekends spent at his camp around the campfire. He always welcomed us with a drink and a smile. We never felt unwanted or uninvited in his home. There was always room. I am grateful to him for letting me be such a big part of his wedding day. It was beautiful and we danced under the stars that night. Regardless of how it all ended it started with nothing but love.

This is my goodbye and although you may never know it, I wish I had reached out to you 2 years ago to let you know I still thought of you as a friend. Life is full of regrets, this is one of mine.

May they have beer and guitars in heaven and may you always know peace.

Happy birthday baby girl

2 years ago today on a sunny spring morning my little girl entered this world and it has irrevocably changed my life.

I watched a glorious sun rise on that morning from the back of the ambulance and I thought how perfect, a brand new baby on a brand new day. When I finally held her she had me spellbound. 9 pounds of pure magic with blue eyes.

Behind those blue eyes is the sweetest, sassiest, funniest 2 year old I know. She radiates with beauty, and although I know beauty comes from the heart, every time I look at her face, spattered with the tiniest freckles, I am in awe of how I could take part in the creation of something so stunning.



2 years ago today our family of 3 became a family of 4. She is a joy, a blessing and loved more than she could ever know.

Now, let’s eat cake!!

Barney has a new enemy

Our household has escaped the big purple dinosaur, until recently. Aiden had never even seen an episode of Barney until we discovered Marissa loves the show, much to Marc's chagrin. Honestly, the show is not as horrendous as everyone claims and some of the songs are actually quite catchy.

This morning over cereal I was singing the familiar song from Barney to Marissa.
“I love you, you love me, we’re a happy family…” you know how it goes.

My lovely rendition of the song was suddenly interrupted when Aiden starts making machine gun noises and yells “Shut the hell up!”

The silence that immediately followed and the look of utter shock on my face must have registered with my little guy because he quickly turned a shade of pink and very quietly said “What? Ben said he saw it in a movie”. Ben is a friend of his in Grade 1, whose name has been heard a lot this past week. I haven't met Ben, but when I do I will be sure to thank him for sharing that bit of movie trivia with my son.

As if on queue, Marissa starts to laugh and begins to imitate the machine gun noise too.

Aiden quickly tries to save himself….”See mom, even Marissa knows”

This is when I started to laugh. Cause really, what else could I do?

Un-Valentines Day

Marc and I aren't big fans of V Day. It's too commercialized and expensive. We haven't celebrated Valentines Day in about 15 years....not kidding. When Marc and I started dating we did go out a few time on February 14. We went to dinner and we sat in crowded restaurants eating over priced food. Sometimes he would buy me over priced flowers and we would pay $6 for that Hallmark card that had the 'perfect' sentiment.

I don't need a 'special' day to tell me I'm loved. I know it. It's in the every day things. It's the way I'm greeted at the door when I come home, the way Marc looks at me from across the room, any room at any time. The way he subconsciously reaches for my hand. It is in the arm thrown around me and the spooning in the middle of the night and, yes, it's in the way he randomly gropes me, even when I complain and express my frustration with it. I'm sure I would miss it if he stopped doing it. (Can't believe I'm admitting that).

This is the first Valentines Day in 20 years that I'm alone, as Marc is in Vancouver working for the Olympics. This year is the first in many that I actually bought Marc a Valentine's Day card. One that I went to 3 different card stores for, searching to find one that expresses what I felt. I finally found one that I don't think expresses it enough but was pretty close. So yes, this year I bought into this stupid, waste-of-money, overpriced, commercialized day in hopes that my $6 card shows him that even if he is 2,000 miles away, he is loved.

A love letter to my husband

Remember a year ago when you told me you were applying to volunteer at the 2010 Olympics in Vancouver? My response was to laugh and say "go ahead and apply but there was no way in hell you were going and leaving me and the kids that long so you could get the idea out of your head." Remember when you told me that you were going on the interview? I said, "whatever, but there was still no way in hell you are leaving me for that long."

Then do you remember when you were notified that you had got the job and I said, "forget it, there was no way in hell that you were leaving?"

What I really meant to say is how lucky you are that you get to take part in a little piece of our country’s history. How proud I am of you that you took that first step towards being involved with an event that you truly love. What I really meant to say was that I hope you have a hell of a time, take lots of pictures and I can't wait to hear the stories of your adventure.

What I really meant to say was that I love you and that I will miss you terribly but am very, very happy for you.

Be safe.
xo

A bond never to be broken

Shortly after Marissa was born I started to hemorrhage. It was scary at the moment, I had never seen so much blood nor have I heard the pounding of footsteps coming down a hospital hall knowing they were running to get to me. They were quick to respond and quick to get the bleeding stopped. They had to massage my uterus (mmm, yeah...no details needed and definitely not the kind of massage you want when you have given birth just 5 hours before) and gave me an IV full of Pitocin to start getting my uterus to contract. They informed me they were taking my new born daughter to the nursery because I was weak from blood loss. I asked them to reconsider as I honestly did not want to be separated from her but they could not leave her with me…liability they said, it was safer for the baby. They took her away and I was honestly surprised how quickly sleep came for me. The kind of hard sleep you fall into when your body is completely exhausted.

2 hours later the nurse woke me and said they couldn’t get her to stop crying. Apparently, my yet-to-be-named little girl, had been crying for the entire time that she had been in the nursery. The nurse asked if I felt strong enough to have them bring her back. Of course I said, bring her to me. The nurse came back with my beautiful angry, screaming, red faced baby. The nurse placed her in my arms and literally within seconds the screaming stopped and she fell fast asleep. The nurse smiled at me and said that we were bonded, that this was a true sign of a mother/daughter connection that science can’t even explain…it just is. I felt like the most powerful woman alive. With only a touch I was able to comfort my little girl and had the ability to make her feel safe and warm enough that she was finally able to drift to sleep. I laid her in the hospital bed next to me and we both slept for 4 more solid hours.
Although I truly loved her from the minute that I knew she was the size of a pea in my belly, I feel that this moment created a bond between us that hopefully nothing can break.

Over the next 12 months she cried…a lot. She was easily comforted by being close to me so she spent the better part of the day in the Baby Bjorn and slept on my chest at night. Even now, she seeks me out for comfort and is still soothed by only my touch. She instantly knows when I enter a room and when I leave it. There have been days when I am suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling that something is wrong with her and have called her childcare provider only to find out that yes, she is having a rough day or that she isn't feeling well.

I truly believe I am connected to my daughter, mentally and spiritually, in a way that I cannot explain.

I came home last week from a particularly horrible day at work. I was feeling sorry for myself and felt completely discouraged and beaten down. I put a movie on for the kids and sat down on the couch. Tears of frustration on the verge of spilling over, rehashing the day and planning how I was going to handle everything tomorrow, when Marissa looked at me with those big blue eyes, came over to me and crawled into my lap. She settled into the crook of my arm and rested her head on my shoulder. After a few moments she looked up at me, smiled and simply whispered “mommy”. The stress and worry of the day simply vanished. I hugged her close and even after the movie was over, she continued to let me hold her in silence. My cheek rested on her head and I knew in my heart that she was comforting me with her touch. And my God it worked. It was pure magic and she knew it. I know she did.

Thank you baby girl.

Remember our Fallen

Old people know stuff

We should really listen to them...don't you think?

The greatest story ever told

Aiden is quite the story teller. His imagination knows no bounds and thinks up the story faster than his mouth can tell it.

It is a 20 minute drive to my moms house from my door to hers. Aiden began his story as I was strapping him in to his car seat in our driveway. A story so rich with his own creativity that it would have made George Orwell, or Dr. Seuss for that matter, shake their heads in wonderment.

He talked non-stop about the story that was unfolding in his head. My attention to the details of the story came and went throughout the drive. I heard chatter of a five Decker bus and the man who owned it (he traded all his Pokemon cards for it), bad guys who came to earth in a shiny ship shaped like a diamond who were trying to steal the bus, thunder clouds that shot out fire balls and guns that sent out blue lasers that stung like wasps. 20 minutes later as we pulled into my moms driveway I heard these words:

….and he kicked him in the wiener…

Uhhhhh…what was that honey? Who kicked who in the wiener?

The guy who stole the five Decker bus kicked the owner in the wiener to steal the bus.

That’s kinda harsh isn’t it?

Well, n-o-o-o-o-o mom, because the stingray gun was kicked out of his hand and his hands were chopped off from the blue lasers so he had to kick him in the wiener to steal it.

Makes sense.

All that I am thankful for

There are so many others in this world that don’t even have a fraction of what we have. Imagine what life is like for others who are not as lucky.

Women who have never known tender words or a loving caress from their lover, only angry words and fists.

Little boys who are learning how to use weapons to kill rather than learning the power of a pencil.

Little girls who are maimed in the most horrific of ways and who will never be given the opportunity to learn to read or write. Never learn their importance and value.

Children who go hungry, who have never had a parent tell them to eat everything on their plate before getting dessert because there is simply nothing…NOTHING to eat. They only live to die.

Mothers who have to watch their children suffer every day. Watch them slowly starve to death with swollen bellies and the saddest eyes that silently beg for mercy.

Children and families who are living in the midst of war. One that is not theirs nor one they want. Hearing blasts of guns, bombs and cries of torture and can only be thankful it is not them but wonder every day when it will be.

Children who live through a type of hell every day with unspeakable abuse and terror. Imagine never having a mom or dad to ‘kiss it all better’ but are the very ones who inflict the wounds.

In another world this could have been me, my children or someone I love.

I am indeed thankful for all I have. Thankful for my life and all that is in it.

My health.
Food on my table.
A roof over my head.
A job that gives me the ability to provide for my family and to help the less fortunate. I pray it reaches them and eases some suffering.

But most of all I am thankful for the all the love I have in my life. There is so much of it, more than I deserve.

My handsome and adoring husband. Life would be very boring without him around.

My beautiful and spirited little girl who brings an indescribable amount of joy to our lives. She’s smart and sweet and gives the best hugs.

My beautiful little boy who brightens every day with his smile and sense of humour. He is bright and kind and loving.

A home filled with love and so much laughter. More laughter than tears (Unless it’s tears caused by laughter and there is nothing sweeter).

My parents, in-laws and a family who love us unconditionally. They are our biggest supporters and mentors.

Let us rise up and be thankful,
for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little,
and if we didn't learn a little,
at least we didn't get sick,
and if we got sick, at least we didn't die;
so, let us all be thankful.
- The Buddha

The best gifts

Today I am celebrating my 39th and have never been more excited or hopeful for what is around the corner. I am not afraid of getting older as every year gets better for me. I am never disappointed on my birthday. This year is no different.

I am usually long gone in the morning and rarely get to see my kids as I start my day. Today, Marc woke them both up to be sure I got to see them and hug them before I left. The gifts I received from them are priceless.

A handmade card on pink paper with sweetly drawn flowers and "I love you mommy" written carefully in a black triangle that held all the love in the world. It was taped to the orange juice carton so when I reached for it, as I do every morning, I was sure to see it. A shiny necklace that has beads of every colour on it, red, blue, pink, lime green, blue and purple. It was hand picked by the sweetest boy in the world. I am proudly displaying it around my neck and don't ever want to take it off. Every bead worth more to me than all the diamonds in the world.

A big hug from a sleepy little girl. You know the kind only a baby can give. Her little arms held tightly around my neck and her beautiful head with the softest hair rested on my shoulder and snuggled into me. This moment was followed up by a sloppy, drooly kiss from her. It was a perfect moment and tears silently slid down my cheek as I was completely wrapped up in it.

But the best birthday gift I am getting this year is from my mom and dad. After years of living more than 2 hours outside the city they are selling their house and making their way back to us. Back to their grandchildren and children who love and miss them so much. Unfortunately, today's responsibilities and pressures of life don't allow us to travel to see each other very often. I know this decision wasn't easy for them. They have to sell their beautiful country home that they poured themselves into over the past 10 years and are now stressed about finding a new one.

But my kids and my niece and nephews will now have an opportunity to bond more closely with the 2 people who gave life to 3 and who are the proud grandparents of 7. My camera and my heart will now hold more pictures of them playing with their grandchildren. Snapshots of every memory made of time spent with them. I can't wait to have them closer. Thank you mom and dad...this is truly the best gift.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!