my favorite post revisited for you to enjoy again....

Better Support

originally published in summer 2006

I have come to the conclusion that I need some better support.

Not in parenting, not in my friendship circle, not in my running regime......

in my boobs.

I vowed that I would never be that mom. You know the one. The one that comes to playgroup/library/playground/Thrifty Foods with her brood in designer garb, all decked out, looking like they are making a quick stop on the way to a movie premier or something equally glamorous. Mom, however, is looking a little less than made up. A bit harried, with a comb not touching the hair that is not visible in the bathroom mirror, clothes a bit wrinkled, flip-flops being the shoe of choice......and worse of all fashion faux-pas.....her bra held up with a safety pin.

I am this close to being that mom. Just a safety pin away.

How is it that mom rationalle prevents us from spending money on ourselves? On essentials? I have no issues spending money on really little cute jeans for my 2-year old. Nor do I have any issues with spending $40 on a new backpack to grace the shoulders of my 7 year old on her return to school. I do, however, balk at the highway robbery of prices that they can get away with charging for a bra. I have two. One is the "turtlenecks" of bras. You know the kind. The Huge, mother-of-all bras, no chance of escape here, really big and bulky. It is the one that I wear on a regular basis. (not by choice, keep reading). The other is a demi-cup. The one that presumes to be sexy, with coverage of only half your boob. Mine was not bought as a demi-cup. I grew. It evolved into a new entity. One on which does not cover, nor does it support, it just...well...I am not exactly sure what it's purpose is. I only wear this one when I am waiting for the turtleneck one to dry.

This is not rocket science girlfriend. (maybe it is, have you seen the pointy-arrow boobies of the 1950's? complete with darts and take off devices...maybe it is rocket science) It is a piece of material that will defy the laws of gravity and put my "girls" to their pre-baby height of yesteryear. Not too big of a task. I mean, if you can put a man on the moon, one would like to believe that you can return the boobs to their place of honor.

Maybe too much to ask.

So, I am prepared this time. No kids to bring to the bra-shop for me. It is all too fresh in my mind what happened last time I brought my kids. The older one thought that it was an all-you-can-eat buffet from my purse of treats, and my younger one saw the boobs unleashed and thought that it was an all-you-can-eat-buffet from me. Not a good time in the change room for me. I will go get measured, and convince myself that spending money on me is a good thing.

Because do you know what I don't want for Christmas this year? National Geographic boobies of the saggy-tribe of who knows where in Africa. Nope, crossed that one off my wish list.

I'll take some new panties to go with my new bras. Lord knows, I won't be able to afford both.

Hving it all together means knowing where your purse is.....

Do you judge how your mood is by what possessions you have? Do you look to others and compare? Shamefully, I have done this.

Then my birthday came around. Now, sadly, when you are an adult you do not have parties, with streamers, and balloons, and pin-the-tail on the donkey games (at least not with anyone other than your husband later on that evening.....) and definitely NOT goody bags.

My birthday was a big "punch in the face" to me on how great my girlfriends here are.

They facebooked me.

They brought me flowers to school.

They picked their kiddies up early from daycare so that my "weekend" could begin.

In a word, they cared.

Now, I have the "chosen" few girlfriends. The ones here that I count as my friends would be there for me whenever, where ever, whatever the reason. They tell me when I look fabulous, and when I need my highlights touched up. They poke fun at me when I drive up in the tan-van overflowing with daycare kiddies. They encourage me. They aid in my growth and learning. They put me in my place, and laugh at my jokes. They truly are all my favorites.

I love their individuality. They each possess separate and unique attributes that make them who I need at the time. One is the most amazing and gifted card maker and crafty gal, which in an instant I knew I missed out in not knowing her in 1989 when I had the first chance. One has amazing knowledge of all things musical and theater and art. One has the uncanny ability to make me laugh. One always has the most delicious tea and sunlight pouring in her kitchen in which we spend many an hour talking while our kids play together. One in which I trust her judgment and ability to assess a situation and then tell me that it is not always about me. One has three kids, the youngest is only 6 months and sweats like a mad woman with me at cardio kick box two times a week.

The only thing that each of my friends have in common is that they each love me.

I have it all.

Twilight......

During my hiatus, I read Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight. Apparently it is a requirement of being a thirty-something housewife (it’s on the list right between “make ironic references to eighties pop” and “own yoga pants”). No doubt you are quite tired of hearing about the book by now, but hey! that’s precisely why I have a blog! Otherwise I would call my sister even more than I already do, and she might start screening me.



This makes me laugh. Outloud.

I am not sure which part though, the part in which I am a `thirty something housewife`or the fact that the writer (Toddled Dredge) has a sister that she phones often as well......

I am reading Twilight. And loving it.

It is kind of like the `VC Andrews of my adulthood......`` but mostly it is fluff reading as my friend so nicely puts it. You can read it, put it down ( if you can.....) and pick it up and know exactly where you are. No heavy plot. No 10,000 characters that have their own sub plot......just good reading.

I can hardly wait until I am done. I need to know what happens. I am in book four, in a great part, and sadly, cannot devote enough time to it as of late.....so me and my book retire early to bed to read and read and read.

And when I am done, Roger bought me The Watchmen to read.....

Just some photos for you.....

Quinners (in pink) at Dance class

Ribbons are the favorite time of the class....

Finally showing her face...

Hayley's mad dash off the spring board into the foam pit.

One of my fave photos of her as of late. A natural smile, having fun.

Not much is going on in the Beaulieu clan. Winter seems to be taking its own damn time leaving, and even though our crocuses are up and in royal purple glory, we are still wearing a winter coat most days. I know that I should not even mention that the flowers are up here, as my friends in the great white north of BC are buried under feet upon feet of snow.....but there in lies the reason why they are THERE and I am HERE.

March is the month of birthdays here, with HP's on the 2nd. We had a party age nine style, with seeing the Jonas Brothers 3D concert at the movie theater, and having a webkinz kind of goody bag. The guests all loved it, and were SILENT throughout the movie. I think that it is because one of the brothers took off their shirts.....eye candy for nine year olds.

Then it is mine - then Roger's and then on the 30th it is Quinn's. She wants a build a bear party, so that should knock another dent out of the wallet. Not that our family does anything half way - no we NEED to have all our birthdays in the same month!

I am busy reading the Twilight series, and shamefully, loving it. It is a great read.

Not much else is going on. Melanie, does this suffice?

Oh, ya, I am off to cardio kickbox 2 times a week for the month of march....and then will be in seriously kicking some butt.....sadly....my own.

Saving the best

HP, Quinners, and my niece- Cadie- and myself in December

Who do you save your best for? Is it for company? The daycare moms that come to pick up at the end of the day?

Is it for your OWN children?

I am questioning this a bit as of late. I know that my children mean the world to me. I know that I am blessed beyond measure of even having the possibility of being their mom. I know that they are precious, strong and resilient.

But do I save the best of ME for them? Or do they get stuck with leftovers?

For me, it is easier to have the mean voice with my own children than with the daycare kiddies. I know that I have the opportunity to be better - to make better choices, to speak softer, to love louder and hug harder. Do I take the opportunities given to me though?

We have "huggies and kissies" every night when HP and Quinners and myself talk about our day. We talk about the good and the bad. Our favorites. Usually their faves are when someone shared a toy at preschool or if HP gets a turn on the whirley-twirley at school. My faves are when the laundry makes it into the bin or someone brought their dish into the kitchen.

If I look at my life, in faves, my faves should ALWAYS be being their mom. Not that they went to bed so I can have some quiet time. Not that they ate their lunch so I don't have to waste food and throw it away. Not that they came when they were called - but instead played until they did not want to anymore and then came in to see me.

I need to love well. I am in love with my kids - but am working on saving the best love for them.

After all - they save their best love for me. Every day.

On love and reruns on tv

Do you think marriage changes a person, or do you think that a person changes marriage?

That is a tough one. All I know is that since meeting and marrying Roger (the latter is only 2 months old, so I speak from all of my 5 week experience) - my "person" has changed.

Marriage is a promise that you make to each other every day. With Roger, this is what I promise:

1) I promise to listen to you talk about GI Joes - but don't ask me a question in a quiz - I am not listening THAT close.

2) I promise to agree that EVERY colour/shade/spectrum of the rainbow has green shades in it. Even when it does not. But you see it that way, and refuse to realize that white is not green. Nor is black. Green is green.

3) I promise to pick up your towel - if you pick up mine. Usually it is mine on the floor as you are too damn neat for your own good.

4) I promise to not tell anyone about the less than flattering photos of yourself if you promise not to share with the facebook world any of me in less than perfect posture.

5) I promise to be the driver, if you let me pick my music once in a while.

6) I promise to let you be the head of the family - as long as you know that I am the neck. As everyone knows - the neck supports the head and allows it to turn when it wants!

7) I promise to scan the isles of Toys R Us when you want.

8) I promise to always love you, listen to you, and hold your hand.

Roger really is the best. He allows me to be me. He lets me win arguments. He bought us a house and allowed me free reign of decorating it. He knows that I love hanging out with the girls, going to the gym, seeing my friends and having baths. He lets me do it all without complaining, or interrupting. I really do love him. He is one of the few individuals in my "now" friend life that has seen photo evidence of me at over 185 pounds. He thinks I still looked great. (We got him some glasses after that!).

Marriage the second time around is different. You know what you are getting into. I know that I fell in mad love with a frog. Who is a prince. But, man, can he be a frog when he wants to. He also knows that I am a beeotch when the moon is at a certain height, and he stays clear. In fact, he takes the girls and the dog away from the house to protect them too. But, we do the dishes together every night. We watch bad tv. We talk, we read, we sing in the van - usually to kid songs, but I digress. We are comfortable with each other, but not ever complacent. I know when he needs to be alone, and I also know when he has been alone ENOUGH and come and get him to join us.

For those of you that saw the frog and the princess get married on December 6th know that there does not need to be an answer to the question. Love is really all the answer you need.

Want perspective? Get a bikini wax.....

Perspective on life. Most days I think I have it together, and others, like last Thursday - make me want to curl up in a ball, type my resume and find work in a cubicle.

Running a day care is tough. Tough because little ones depend on you for everything. You are a role model, so heaven forbid one of them catch you picking your nose or having chips and chip dip for lunch. Chaos would ensue and then all of them would be booger-picking-double-dipping ankle biters.

I am striving for balance this year. Everything in life should be about moderation. Like a big T-bone steak pairs well with a glass of wine - then take the dog around the block kind of moderation. Balance is important. Finding just the right amount of afterschool activities for the kiddies to be involved in. Playing outside until you can still feel your toes. Dressing just enough polly pockets in rubber clothes to make it still fun. And taking full advantage of dropping everyone off at school and being in the van - ALONE.

This happened today. A blissful three hours before I had to be back. I had to choose my time wisely. I could go to Starbucks and have a tea and read the paper. I could go to the gym and zone out while listening to my ipod. I could browse those stores I love, fingering the clothes but not buying anything. I could read. I could have a bath.

I chose to go and get a bikini wax. Yep. While I am alone, and without children, I opt to have the small hairs ripped out in my nether region while listening to calming music. All the while not having any pants on.

It is so much better than where else we as females go and take off our pants and have others examine out nether regions. That is not at all relaxing.

Ohm.

Pocketful of Memories

So today Roger had to go to the attic - so I thought while he was up there I would get a box of clothes for Quinn. This box had been packed up when Hayley was four, in hopes that another girl would grace our doorway and be able to wear all the cute clothes.

What I did not prepare myself for is that when the Rubbermaid container was opened, a stream of memories would pour out and engulf me for a great portion of the afternoon.

These clothes came from a time when it was only Hayley and me. First item out was a pair of chocolate brown corduroy overalls. Hayley was obsessed with pink and these overalls just did not cut it as far as she was concerned as there was not a pink thread in site. So I sewed Ric-rack ribbon throughout all the top bibbing, as well as added pink buttons. She wore them all the time.

Now they were in my hand, and in one of the pockets was the button that I took off to put on the pink ones. I still remember that day, we were fed, bills were paid, but no money. It was like this every month, but yet, I did not care. We did bead necklaces, we read books, she learned to ride her bike inside the apartment, we ate at the kiddie craft table, and we were happy. These overalls held all these positive memories, and now, hopefully Quinn will wear them and create new memories in them

Throughout the entire tote were items of clothing such as this one. A skirt that Hayley wore every day that it was clean. A t-shirt that said "I love mom", a purple vest, her preschool coat (this one had NO buttons!), her LUGZ boots that were a hand-me-down from the boy next door, her "DR. SUESS" stripy pants, and a pretty summer dress. Quinn went through the box in amazement that they were Hayley's , and also that now they are hers.

Quinn has worn a lot of Hayley's hand me downs. This is not the first box of treasures that came down and were used again. Yet, somehow, this one hit me right square in the heart.

I think of how lucky that I am. How blessed I am. I was not a single parent to Hayley for long. She still saw her dad, but at this time, neither he nor I were on speaking terms. I met Roger, and in time, we had Quinn. Both Hayley's dad and I learned to forgive each other.

I am blessed with two great girls. With food in my fridge. With the bills paid. With a small amount of money in my account between paydays. I am blessed with good health. With two girls that are the center of each other lives. I am blessed to hold hands with my best friend every day. I wear my past as a badge of honor. I am strong. Strong enough to leave a relationship that I knew was fruitless. Strong enough to trust someone with my heart again.

I am blessed with memories, both good and bad. They encompass my heart and soul, and without them I would be a shell of a person. They made me who I am.

Funny how it took a Rubbermaid tote for me to revisit these memories, and see how I have come to peace with them.

A trip to the attic created a trip down memory lane.