Leap Blog Day

About a month ago, I learned that some bloggers are celebrating the leap day by leaping blogs. As one of my dear friends is participating, I asked her to share some of her beautiful words in my space today. I knew she would write something special, I didn't expect her to write lovely encouraging words about me. I am blessed, encouraged and humbled. Without further ado, here's Karo:


On February 25th I had the privilege of participating in a fundraising walk called

For those of you who don't know me, the homeless of K-W hold a special place in my heart, and so I was pleased to be able to fund-raise for such a personally meaningful cause. For the record, I have no idea how it worked out that way, but it really did turn out to be the coldest night of the year, with a brutal, biting wind that cut through our coats and chilled to the bone. I took the time to really feel the cold that night, to consider what it would feel like WITHOUT all my warm layers. To try to imagine what it would be like to have to try to sleep and stay warm in that weather, day in and day out. I was grateful for the cold that night, for the chill that lasted for hours after the walk had ended and I was inside a warm, safe place, because it served as a reminder to me of how very fortunate I am. When problems and concerns pile up, it is unfortunately very easy to become egocentric and focus only on ourselves, to forget about the bigger things, the more important things. Reminders like this are essential, in my opinion, for (attempting to live) living a balanced life.

Another thing I was grateful for that night was the gift of friendship. If you're here at (abundant) Life with kids then you likely already know what an amazing woman Grace is. So I'm not going to write this for you, but rather for Grace herself, because I think sometimes she forgets what a wonderful person she is, and how she inspires those around her.

First off, Grace, you are an excellent mother. You're raising three beautiful, bright, and empathetic children. They are inquisitive, gentle, caring, and intelligent, with just the right amount of quirky (must be from their father, right?)! I am constantly amazed at the empathy your children show toward others, and at the size of their hearts. You don't just parent; you guide their minds, hearts, and souls. And it shows. They are challenging (I know all too well the unique challenges that come from raising 'spirited' children, as I've got a son and a daughter of my own who are spirited children themselves), but- and I'm sorry to be corny- I truly feel that you live up to your name. I have yet to meet anyone who could meet the challenges (and joys!) you face on a daily basis with such grace, not to mention patience and humour. Lord knows parents of young children need a good sense of humour to make it through these formative years!

You are one of the kindest, most thoughtful friends I have. I know that you are always willing to lend your ear to listen to my worries, or your shoulder to lean on in difficult times, or even your tissues when I need a good cry. Having a friend like you to count on, someone who will be there unconditionally, non-judgmentally, is a rare gift, and it's one I treasure. Though we met many years ago, we didn't get to know each other well and become close until recently. I'm so glad that we did, though- I can't imagine not having you in my life. I suppose that watching someone push another human being out of their body -not once, but twice- tends to bring people closer, huh? Not much left to bare after that, is there? Plus, you have this knack for just showing up on my doorstep unannounced and creating these awesome surprise play dates, which I love:)

I had a wonderful time walking with you and Aris. See, here's proof:

I kinda wish that guy in the ridiculous getup hadn't come into an otherwise lovely picture, but what can ya do, right? Seriously, who doesn't just wear a hat? Some people.

Thank you for walking with me- not just on the coldest night of the year, but on this journey called life. Ian and I are honoured to call you our friend.

To Make a Bad Day Better

Because I have awesome friends, I have decided to share this epic Facebook thread with you.  I keep going back because it makes me really happy.  Because I'm changing names, I can't just do a screen shot. But here's the gist.

Veronica's status update:
 Steve, are we still on for the prenatal belly dancing at your house tonight? I know you said you were interested.


Keona: I must have missed an inside joke? Steve is pregnant? :p

Steve: Umm… That was when I was … elsewhere…, right?

Grace: Steve says you're a nut. :)

Steve: Keona, yes I do appear to be pregnant to some. However, it doesn't seem to have resulted in a baby yet. Perhaps I'm doing something wrong?

Veronica: Perhaps it's Grace that's doing something wrong. We'll brainstorm when we next get together and see if we can figure it out.

Veronica: No, you didn't miss anything Keona. I just decided to bug Steve :).

Keona: My husband might be interested in male prenatal belly dancing too. We'll see if we can get enough guys to teach a class. :)

Veronica: Okay, I'll check with my hubbie :).

Veronica: ‎Bianca, see if your husband is interested ;).

Veronica: My hubbie says to sign him up.

Steve: What, do all of us guys have beer bellies?

Veronica: So I'm putting you down as a 'yes' then Steve?

Steve: Umm, I believe I have an appointment with my hairdresser that day.

Veronica: Ask her if she know where you can get some good bellydancing gear.

Steve: troublemaker.

Lucy: I should get my husband to join. Although that man doesn't have much belly to work with.

Keona: No "beer belly" required! Just need to be male. Lucy's husband would love it! :)

Keona: No worries Steve, we have flexible class times.

Veronica: Yeah and don't worry about buying Steve. I'm sure Grace has something cute and jingly you could tie around your waist.

Steve: ‎Veronica, eww. Keona, It's a really long appointment. I'm quite sure it will conflict.

Mama Bear: Chicken!

Veronica: Steve this hairdresser of yours...they, uh - you DO know that you have no hair right? I mean I'm not judging or anything. Bald people should be able to go to the hairdresser if they choose to do so. I'm just saying yo might want to consider the possibility that you're being scammed.

Steve: Am Not Bald! Or Scammed. Now that I think about it, it wasn't the hairdresser keeping me busy at all. It was the society of hunters in hummers (very manly!) that's been trying to recruit me. Apparently they think I'd make a good poster man (not boy!) or something.

Veronica: Well, okay Steve. However I urge you to consider all of the men that are weeping inside because they would like to take belly dancing classes but are afraid that society would look down on them. Thisis your opportunity to take a stand and pave the way towards a more flexible waistline for men everywhere. *Holds out hand* Won't you join us, Steve? You know you want to ;).

Steve: Give me a list of names, and I'll get the Hunters in Hummers to give them a call. There is hope...

Veronica: Haha! LOL.

Bianca: was this a joke thing or did it really happen?

Veronica: It's mostly a joke that came from a small bit of reality. Mainly, I'm just teasing Steve, although I would be hugely entertained at the sight of a group of belly dancing husbands :).

Grace: I need to read this comment thread whenever I have a bad day. This cracks me up! :)

Five Minute Friday: Tender

 Every Friday, Lisa-Jo invites us to write for just five minutes, no editing.  Occasionally I remember in time to play along.

start


 I hurt today; my head, my stomach and a sore spot on my foot.  My aches leave me tender, vulnerable, open to stronger reactions than normal.  Because like a dog with a sore paw, when provoked I responded harsher than typical.  My children are also sick, all three of them home today.  They don't seem to understand how miserable their Mama feels, so they whine and bicker until I respond. Too harshly.

 But their little hearts are tender too.  And a mama's angry words, no matter why they come, can lodge deeply in a small soul and fester.  I feel torn, guilt-pain adding to physical misery.  Why can't my kids be kind to me? Why can't I respond better to them? Finishing my rant, I apologize, confessing my sin of anger to them, asking for their forgiveness.  They extend undeserved grace to me, offering hugs and kind words.

 And I am left tender, the good kind now, my heart moved by the compassion and grace extended to me, a sinner.

stop

Fear, Dignity and Coldest Night of the Year

 We had exited off the interstate to take the bridge to Canada when I saw two official looking cars blocking the road ahead. Instantly my body filled with fear.  I had no legitimate reason to be afraid, no illicit goods in my car and yet my heart started pounding.   Border Patrol Officers were searching vehicles leaving the States which seemed bizarre to me. I'd never seen this before although I've crossed the border well over a hundred times.  Perhaps they were searching for stolen property or someone being trafficked, but for whatever reason traffic was blocked and cars were being pulled over for questioning.  As we were driving a rental car, the officer doing the questioning waived us over to be searched.  As we waited, I became increasingly agitated. Finally they let us go, after searching through everything in the trunk, even our dirty underwear.

 It took me awhile to understand my agitation.  It wasn't just that I was frustrated over the delay because I wanted to see my kids, but I was also completely panicked.  As I sorted through my emotions, I realized it was because I no longer believe being innocent is enough.  I knew that although I wasn't carrying any contraband and am not a threat to the United States Government, if the security officer wanted to, he could have torn apart our car, physically searched us or even detained us.  And there wasn't anything we could do about it.

 It's been like that in my life these last couple of years.  Things happened that I couldn't do anything about.   My innocence didn't matter, only my supposed guilt.  This led to deeper wariness of authority than I already had. Through this I've learned empathy for the plight of refugees.  I've started to identify more with them, to understand what it is like to leave a home not by choice.  These past few years have also given me more compassion towards the homeless.  I know what it is like to be treated with suspicion and wariness by those around me,  and how it feels to live with the resulting fear of people.  It's a rough place.

 On February 25th, I'll be walking 5k with my daughter and some great people from my church.  We're raising money for Ray of Hope, a local organization that serves the homeless.  Before the walk last year, I had an interesting conversation with another walker.  She was in her late teens, having recently gotten off the streets. She had participated in a program that employs homeless teens, teaching them life skills, providing them with an income, and returning their dignity.  I want to be a part of that, to not just feed and clothe the homeless but to provide better choices for them.  There have been so many this past year who have reached out to me, restoring my dignity and sense of self.  I am so thankful and so I'd like to pass on the gift of dignity, of hope to the marginalized in my community.


 If you'd like to be sponsor Aris or me, give our names a little click.  And if you'd like to walk yourself, click here.

Cake Party

What do you do when you end up with too much cake?

 Yesterday my children returned home from AWANA with two fancy homemade cakes.  My husband wondered what on earth were we going to do with that much cake.  Thankfully we only have two children in the program, unlike our friends who lucked out with four cakes. One of them was a Candy Land cake complete with lollipops, candy canes and a Starburst walkway.   My husband was really glad we didn't get that cake. :)

 So while he was moaning about the surfeit of cake, I came up with a plan. Why not invite our neighbours over for a Cake Eating Party?  So we invited our friends and neighbours over for a last minute party.  It ended up being great.  Not too many people came, but just enough that our house wasn't empty.  The kids played really well, we had some great conversations and best of all, we have almost no cake left!  Oh, and my house is much cleaner.  Nothing incites cleaning quite like having company over.

 I think we need more cake. :)

It's Been Two Years...

 since I first opened this space and started writing.  Pretty crazy!

 I haven't been writing as much recently, mostly because I'm attempting to finish up my doula certification.   It's been a long time since I've had to write essays and I have to say I'm not enjoying the process.  I will be ever so glad when I'm finally finished and certified! :) Perhaps I will throw myself a party. :)

  I started writing this blog as a way to force myself to find joy.   Life felt rather dark then, and although I knew there were glimmers, they quickly swam away from me.  Writing was a way to remember, to find those shards of light and capture them.   I find joy much more easily these days, although it's still darker than I would like.  My husband keeps telling me that healing is coming when I get too frustrated.

 As we were away over the holidays and only returned yesterday, I did the groceries after getting the kids from school.  Kian decided that he didn't like that particular grocery store and decided to vent his frustration by screaming.  I should mention that Kian has a particularly high-pitched and piercing scream.  But he wasn't content with this.  No, he needed to hit anyone who came near him.  It was not a pleasant scene.

 I was thinking about the days when smacking a misbehaving child was common place and fighting down my urges to do just that when I remembered I had my phone.  I quickly sent Steve a text, asking him to pray.  I guess he knew it was urgent since there was no punctuation and I actually used numerals instead of words.  After dropping my phone back in my pocket, I headed to the dairy aisle to grab milk before leaving.  At this point, one of my arms was wrapped around Kian to keep him from hitting his brother, while the other one tried to steer the cart.  I'm really not sure what the other shoppers thought.  I'm sure it wasn't all pleasant.  But then in the dairy aisle, peace came.

 Over the weekend, Kian had visited his aunt and uncle, where he was given yogurt drinks.  Money is tight so we don't buy yogurt drinks typically.  These are Kian's new favourite and he had asked me to buy him some earlier.  Lo and behold, I found some on sale.  Kian stopped misbehaving when he saw them.  After getting him to apologize, I extracted a promise that he would behave if we bought them.  Not content with that, I informed him that if he misbehaved at all, the yogurt drink would be returned.  We outlined inappropriate behaviour and went on. Immediately his behaviour changed.   By the time we reached the cashier, he was in a much better mood.  Things were going so well that the cashier actually praised my parenting.  Laughing, I informed him that my now-adorable looking little boy was the same one who had been screaming earlier. The teenager had a hard time believing that such an innocent looking child make that much noise.  Personally, I think God made him extra-cute so he would survive to adulthood. :)

 Anyhoo, it's late, I should go to bed.  Happy blogaversy to me! :)

The Sun Still Shines

 Several years ago, I boarded a plane to Halifax.  It was miserable weather in Toronto; grey, cold and drizzly.  Halifax was much the same.  But in between, the plane was filled with the most glorious sunshine.  Having a window seat, I basked in the sunshine.  My heart sank as we dipped below the clouds again, waving goodbye to the sun.

 I learned a simple, somewhat obvious truth that day.  Above the clouds, the sun is always shining. (Except at night, of course!)

 Recently, my heart has felt clouded over, grey and miserable.  There have been too many days where I stand in my kitchen crying, overwhelmed by everything.  Being the calm, logical person that I am (HA!),  I then start to freak out about being overwhelmed.  It's a downward spiral from there.

 And in this overcast place, I have begun to remind myself that the sun is still shining though I cannot see it.  This simple truth brings me great comfort.  I know that someday the clouds will lift.  Joy will return.  So for now I look for the little rays of sunlight: a good book, tea with friends, lighting the Menorah candles with my Jewish friends and daughter, good chocolate,  an escape after a crazy day and a carol sing on the way to school.  When the sunshine is covered by the clouds, hope is left behind.  I will be okay, I know it, for the sun still shines.