tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-356105732024-03-13T06:35:49.510-05:00The Rise and Fall of Penny LaneThere's much, too much to miss....Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.comBlogger135125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-43845339275003189032012-12-14T21:17:00.004-06:002012-12-14T21:17:48.215-06:00Heartache<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are lots of things that come with parenthood. The joys, the thrills and the unbelievable heartache that catches you so swiftly that it almost knocks the air right out of you. This heartache is not from hearing your child tell you they hate you, or from watching your four year old throw the meal you worked so hard on all over the floor. The heartache comes from the thought of being without him, ever.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I never thought something would attach itself to me so completely as my little one has. We are entwined together in a way that only another parent could understand. Life without this child is not a possiblity, not something I ever want to think about.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I often fear for my son. I know the chances of him being super sick or being in some sort of danger are minimal, but as a parent whose mind is prone to wandering, I think about this and have come to know it as my ultimate fear. I never want anything bad to touch him, in any way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I suppose that is part why the news of todays shooting in Newtown has really rattled me. Some of the children who were at that school were only one year older than my child, forcing me to relate to something so tragic on a level I never thought possible. My god, how can this even happen?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We become so enraptured with these creatures we have created, have loved, have raised. We do everything in our power to protect them, to comfort them, to raise them right. We can't control everything, we can't control the whims and horrible urges of other people and that scares me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How do you deal? How do you handle that phone call? How do you comfort a child who has seen what those have? Heard what those have? At such a young age, how can you make them understand? There is lots of healing to be done, lots of work to restore the carefree days of childhood. Its feels somewhat corney to say there is a lot of healing that needs to be done, but its true. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have turned of the TVs today. I have stopped watching the news for the time being and I spent time with my son. My heartaches for them, I want to scream at someone, something. How dare you take away what is most precious to a parent? How could you think of hurting people in the most primal and complete way as this? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is no heartache that compares. There is no excuse for this level of hurt. There is nothing I can say to make myself or anyone else feel better about this. I'm not even going to try. What I am going to do is be hopeful. </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-60982395812801170622012-10-14T18:27:00.002-05:002012-10-14T18:27:22.855-05:00It Get's Better... Doesn't It?<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was bullied.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was bullied, relentlessly until High School. Finally, in High School things mellowed out for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I grew up in the country and went to the same, small school from Kindergarten to grade nine. I knew after I completed grade nine, I would then go to the largest high school in the province, one so big I knew I would be able to hide from my tormentors, where I would have the opportunity to meet new people, where I knew it would get better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't really remember when the bullying started. Doesn't really matter in the scheme of things. It did start early and by grade four I was going to doctor after doctor to find out why my stomach was in knots, why everything I ate seemed to go right through me. Not many children develop ulcers due to stress in grade four, do they?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I would come home from school and collapse in my bed in tears, I would fake every illness I could think of to avoid going to school. I had such horrible anxiety that at times I didn't know what to do with myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was picked on, spat on, called names, hit and kicked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I begged my parents to move. When I started Junior High, I begged that my parents drive to a different school instead of continuing classes with the same people who tormented me in grade school. When they refused, I screamed and yelled. I told them I hated them and I wished I had the guts to just end it all... somehow...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I focused on my studying, I worked hard and kept those close to me who proved time and time again to be true and honest people. I tried not to let them see how much the taunting bothered me and I went on as best I could, knowing that as soon as I finished grade nine and started high school at a new school, that things would be different. I knew I would have a chance to 'start over' and I kept my eye on that. Soon it would be over, soon I could start fresh.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">High School was really a turning point for me. By going to the largest high school in the province, I was able to finally meet different people. I was able to start new and it opened new doors for me. I wasn't crying myself to sleep as often. My anxiety started to fade, and my horrible stomach finally stopped revolting against me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">By the time I graduated High School, you would have never thought I was bullied for over eight years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It gets better, sure it does. You learn to deal, you are able to see the light at the end of the tunnel, you can focus on the good and soon, when you all age and mature a bit, you realize how stupid and horrible it is to bully and you move on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It gets better but in some situations, I'm skeptical to say it really does.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm always fearful of what people are saying about me behind my back. I have zero confidence in myself and my abilities. I am a complete push-over - I rather just agree and keep things calm and cool than create ripples or waves. I do this time and time again, even when I know I should stand my ground, when I know what I am saying or doing is the right thing. I lack the confidence to do so with conviction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To blame these character traits on being bullied might be right or it might not. I may have developed this lack of confidence even if I wasn't bullied. Anything is possible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But I doubt it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hearing about Amanda Todd bulling, suicide and continued bullying enrages me, and also reminds me of how I felt. It's easy at that age to think its not going to get any better, that things will never change. We all make mistakes, we all say and do things we may not have wanted to at the time and in time it would have been forgotten, it would have gone away. But at that age, you can't see that far ahead... I sometimes felt like doing exactly what Amanda did. What stopped me? I honestly couldn't say anymore. Fear? Lack of conviction? Love of Family?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Probably, and probably the light I did see at the end of the tunnel. I had something to work towards, something that would probably offer me some reprieve. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now, as an adult moving up in her career, raising a toddler, I often wonder. How will things be for him? Will he be bullied? What will he do? What will I do? Will my love be enough for him? Will it keep him with me until he moves beyond the torment? What if he becomes a tormentor?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And me... I am confronted by my horrible lack of confidence often at my job and now with the promise of a new position, I know that my lack of confidence will bother me every single day. I see myself back down from people often at work, curling up into a nervous and unsure version of myself when the confront me, stand before me with such amazing confidence - confidence that I wish I had.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So yes, it does get better, but it also stays somewhat the same. The difference is the older you get, the better you are equip to deal with things and better to see the light at the end of the tunnel. People are also more mature and usually don't want confrontation or to be called the office 'bully.'</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wish Amanda Todd would have hung on. While I sure she would have never forgotten what happened to her, she would have been able to see beyond it. While it still hurts me, still chokes me up to think about those days in grade school, I take extreme comfort in knowing that they are long gone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wish she could have done the same.. some day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-46075854252732175442012-08-11T08:15:00.001-05:002012-08-11T08:15:16.399-05:00Sometimes, Taking a Breather is the Best Thing to Do...<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lately, I've been feeling light I've been fighting off a lot of anger and frustration - at work, at home, everywhere. Its like I have these extremely high expectations and no one can come close to reaching them. Instead of being understanding, I get frustrated and angry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few days ago, I was killing some time before picking up the kiddo at day care and stopped into a store I am in often to try on some new clothes. Usually, the staff is really on the ball and do all the things they've been instructed by team leaders to do - you know, the stuff that usually annoys us? Like making sure they greet you within your first five minutes in the store, by telling you about the deals that week and by starting up a change room for you when they notice more than one item in your arms (I used to work in a few clothing stores in my time, I know the drill). Usually these things annoy me, but I do see the purpose and reasoning behind them, having done them myself many times, and I hear out the sales reps and try not to make them feel uncomfortable in approaching a new customer in their store (which, trust me, can sometimes be a hit or miss thing. You never know what mood a customer is in...). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I walked into the store and noticed that the staff was in the process of switching their inventory - a whole bunch of new items had come in, so I forgave the fact that no one greeted me when I came in the store. The thing that really started to get my blood boiling was the pile of clothing that soon accumulated in my arms. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">See, I shop in a very specific way. I go through the store once or twice and collect all the items I want to try on. This usually means that my change room has anywhere from two to 30 items in it when I finally get done my sweeps of the store. I figure if I'm going to get out of my clothes, I only want to do it once. Usually the staff is very diligent and once they notice a few items in my arms, they either start a change room going for me or add the clothes to the ever expanding amount of fabric I've picked to try on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This visit, nothing. I swear I had about ten things in my arms before anyone came by to ask me if I would like them to start me a change room. And then another ten before anyone came back to see if they could add those clothes to the room too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I know, it's a little thing but it really got me annoyed. Even thought there were a few items I really liked, I said screw it, and left the store without buying anything. I was really annoyed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The constant nit-picking at work, the lack of understanding really gets to me sometimes too. And at home? It's the same. No one is going out of their way to upset me - in fact I'm sure some people are trying to do the opposite, yet lately I find its easier to get angry at the things that keep happening, over and over, rather than to focus on the good changes that have been taking place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I need to stop and relax. sometimes, taking a breather is the best thing to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm sure the ladies at the store were really busy changing their stock. I remember how stressful those days were at the store as you needed to get the new merchandise out quickly. This is the first time since I've been going to that store (and trust me, I got often) that this has happened, so maybe I need to cut them some slack here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At home, maybe I need to not be so upset when things don't go the way they are planned or how I think they should. I need to roll with the punches more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Deep breaths. I will reconnect with my inner Zen and it will be awesome. </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-31595146042132500452012-07-29T21:58:00.002-05:002012-07-29T21:58:18.682-05:00Get Along<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Why did I start this blog? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Well, most importantly I wanted an outlet where I could be creative, and write about anything, at anytime. I wanted a place where I could vent, cry, complain, boast and share the things in my life I felt I needed to and wanted to share.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I wanted to find some that would work as a warm up for my writing, a forum I could use to hash out ideas and thoughts before commiting them to paper in something more together than random blog posts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I really just wanted to place to get things off my chest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I think most of us start blogs for reasons like that. Its our moment, its our place, its our voice, no matter how little, that we can use to say whatever we want. It's <i>our</i> soapbox.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That being said, I'm still very careful about what I share in this blog. There are many things I have thought about sharing and have made the conscious decision not to publish here. There are things about my personal life that are just that, personal. There are also things that are personal to other people that I don't believe I have the right to share.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At times there are moments I want to say fuck it and really let you all into the dark reccess of my mind and really, really give it to you all in complete and brute honesty. But something stops me, something prevents me from putting my whole life and the lives of others out here for all to read, over and over again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I won't say I'm completely innocent. I have let loose on people in here. I have bad mouthed business I've had bad experiences I have, but I won't do it with the soul purpose to stir up contraversy and I try my hardest to be fair and just in those situations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Why can't we all just get along?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-63481219466429223882012-07-02T20:53:00.004-05:002012-07-02T20:53:51.751-05:00Comfort<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I like to think I'm a strong person, but as my history shows, I tend to crumble and fall apart when the pressure comes down. I may fake really well that I am together and in charge, but truth be told my insides are often crashing down and there is only a small thread holding everything together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When it was just myself, I never really had much of a need to keep myself in check. If I crumbled completely and fell apart, that was fine. The only person it would really affect was me and my bruised pride.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Being a mother has changed that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">If I let things get to me, if I cave, it affects not only myself but my son. Think about it - do you remember how devastating it was as a child to see your parents hurt or scared? Its like seeing the fountains crumble around you, crashing down everything you thought was stable and secure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've had to learn to put my own shortcomings behind me, now that I am a mother. Kiddo is at the age where he is going to get bumps and bruises - some more serious that others. It's important for me to keep my head, to keep myself together and do everything I can to comfort him in those moments. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nothing hurts more than seeing your child in pain... and not being able to really do anything to help. Its those moments where I want to cave completely and give into the frustration and fall apart, but I can't. I refuse to.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I need to stay in control, I need to keep him focused on getting beyond the pain, beyond the scrapes, beyond the bruises. Being his rock will only become more important the older he gets, as his aches become mental and internal. There will come a period in time when he won't share with me all the things that make his heart ache and I will feel like there is nothing I can do to make him feel comfort, when in fact, there is. By being there, by staying in control, by being his rock, I will provide the comfort he may or may not know he needs at that moment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Its a challenge, and its something I can not fail at. </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-12385020644425981712012-06-03T20:44:00.003-05:002012-06-04T06:34:20.259-05:00Why I Took My Three Year Old to Pride....<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The weather today was beautiful for a parade. Clouds were threatening and at one point, even let loose a few droplets from the sky right before the parade started. It stopped as quickly as it started - no spirits dampened by it at all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's now late in the afternoon. I can hear that the Pride 2012 party at the Forks has slowed down, maybe even stopped. I don't see brightly dressed people outside our highrise window, I don't ear music or hoots and hollering anymore. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Correction - just as I finished typing that I heard what had to be the loudest cat-call whistle I've ever heard in my life.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z3bwYB0sZfI/T8wS1hJcc2I/AAAAAAAAARU/SEwy4TTX39A/s1600/hu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z3bwYB0sZfI/T8wS1hJcc2I/AAAAAAAAARU/SEwy4TTX39A/s320/hu.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I took my three and a half year old son to the Pride parade today. He loved the music, made quick friends with a boy probably more than twice his age and was all smiles while parade goers handed him treats and flags and balloons along the route. He danced, he hollered and he waved his rainbow flag vigorously to all the people marching today - many smiling and waving back, blowing him kisses, or commenting how 'cute and adorable' he was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While walking home after the parade, I started to think about why I was taking him to the event. I've always identified as straight - probably almost as straight as they come. Starting in my young adult life, I've been surrounded by people who identify a number of different ways - gay, lesbian, bi-sexual, trans, poly, etc. While I myself enjoy men, I never an issue with people loving or being with whomever they chose - just as long as they were happy. I attended my first pride parade in my early twenties to show support and love for my friends who decided to walk and partake in the event. I won't say I went every year, but I went more often than I didn't. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When Hunter was eight months old, he attended his first Gay Pride parade. While he was too young to understand what was going on, I believe he had a good time. He was all smiles, and just before we walked home after the parade had winded down Broadway, he feel asleep in his stroller. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Today, this parade, it was different. He was involved, he was interested, he was point things out and he was asking questions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've always maintained that I would be as honest as I possibly could with my son. I don't want to hide him from anything and I don't want to influence how he should feel about things. When my grandmother passed this last November, we were honest with Hunter about what happened. We told him exactly what was going on and while I don't think he completely grasped the concept, he knows the language, he understands enough.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While walking home from the parade, after everything was done, Hunter asked me why everyone was saying "Happy Pride!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Well," I said "Mommy is a girl and daddy is a boy and we love each other, right?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> "Yeah."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Sometimes two girls might love each other or two boys might love each other. And that's alright, as long as they are happy and treat each other well. Sometimes girls get married to boys and sometimes boys get married to boys and girls get married to girls - and today, the parade was to show everyone that its okay to love whoever you want to love, boy or girl."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Oh," said Hunter. He stopped walking (which he does when he is thinking hard) and then said "I love you Mommy - can I marry you?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I laughed and gave him a hug and we continued on our walk home. On the last block home I started to think of why I wanted to take him to the parade and why I'll always take him. I want a son who is understanding and accepting of other people. I want a son who understands that is it normal to love whoever you love - and that I'll always be understand and accepting of him, no matter how he turns out. I want a son who is respectful to people, maybe people he might find a little different from those that he is normally around. I want him to understand that is alright to be different and its alright to be proud of that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I want him never to be afraid to be himself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'll be his biggest supporter, I'll be here for him and happy, no matter who he falls in love with - man or women.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Most of all, I want him to feel at peace with himself and his ability to make his own decisions. The only thing I can do is inform him, expose him to different cultures and situations and help him keep an open mind and be understanding.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Love is a wonderful and precious thing - and we should cherish it, no matter who we find it with.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Happy Pride, Winnipeg. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-45160288504338099562012-05-02T23:17:00.001-05:002012-05-02T23:17:29.613-05:00Vacation Drone...<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Five weeks is a long time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">At first I thought five weeks would go by in a heartbeat, but now, they seem to be passing at a slow, leisurely pace. Who would have thought?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have a little bit less than two weeks left till I return to work. And I am half looking forward to it and half not. I have really come into my routine here. I wake up early, I get the family off to daycare and work and then I eat breakfast and usually do a short 20 or 30 minute work out. Then it's a shower and I start my day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have come to really enjoy my morning work out - doing my EA sport video or going for a long walk, or even just jumping and dancing around to some music in the morning. I've decided to make this a habit and have been working hard at sticking with it and making it a routine.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So now, with my return to work looming on the horizon I've started to think about my morning workout. I think I would much rather get my workout done early in the morning, and then if I get any other activity in the day, then kudos to me. To do a short morning work out, I would have to set my alarm to go off at about 5:30 AM. Yes - you read that right. 5:30 AM. That would give me enough time to do my work out, get myself cleaned up, dressed and then move on to wake up the kiddo and get him going for his day at daycare.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is something I am resigning myself to do, this is something I think I will <i>have </i>to do. I don't want to do this workout after work, I don't want to do it after my son is in bed. We live in an apartment and we doing the workout in the evening will occupy the whole living room area with my sweaty running around. That's not fair to the family. Besides, after work is a time to relax and spend with my son and boy friend.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So, an early morning work out it will be. I'm not sure how this will go but I am making a point to try and wrap my brain around this and to get myself prepped and ready for this. These are the changes I need to make in my life to improve my health and to get results on the diet/exercise plan I on. Others have done it before me and I know I can do it if I put my mind to it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Wish me luck! </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-495932278527767362012-04-22T10:24:00.001-05:002012-04-22T10:24:13.461-05:00The Diet Dilemma<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have a dilemma. It's a simple one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">When I started this blog five or so years ago, I never really had a clear focus point for it. The early entries ranged from strange picture and poetry posts to the ones you seem more regularly from me - long winded diatribes on things that I notice around me and that are going on in my life right now. That is what this blog has become and that where I'd like it to stay.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So now, here comes the dilemma. I've recently started a pretty hard core diet/exercise program in an attempt to lose weight. It's no secret that I need to do this for my overall health and well being and I've been trying to find a program that works for me for a while now. Unfortunately, I haven't had any success with it. I would lose a little bit and then would gain it back in a heartbeat. I'd suffer some sort of downfall, either mentally or physically and I'd end up back at square one. It's enough to really frustrate a girl and I never wanted to fill this blog with those ramblings. I didn't feel they fit with what I was doing here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">But maybe I was wrong. They do fit in with what I am doing with this blog. This is something that is happening to me, daily and something I will never have an escape from. I will always have to watch everything I put in my mouth and be careful of what I decided to ingest. I'm not one of those lucky people who can eat anything they wish and not pay for it in some fashion. I've learned this about myself over the years. I <i>know </i>this about myself, so why can't I apply it and stick to it every day of my life?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm human I suppose and stresses get to me. Those are the moments when I fail my diet and return to the bad habits that have put me in this situation to begin with.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I made a vow to myself this new years to try and get healthy, to try and drop some of this weight. At the least, I wanted to make healthy decisions about my life and in turn, pass those down to my son.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So in truth, this is what I'm debating. Do I want to record this part of my life here, for all to see? Those who know and and those who don't, or is this something that just doesn't fit here? Part of me thinks sharing it here will make me more accountable, but then it might just do the opposite. I might avoid this blog all together if things don't work as well as I am hoping. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">This is an issue many people deal with, and like me, have trouble with. I'm doing great on my plan right now and have dropped a total of fifteen pounds since I started the program. So I'm debating, I'm thinking, I'm pondering and I'm still not sure if this is something I want to get into here. But if it seems like something I should add to this, my life ramblings, then why not?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Food for thought, I guess..</span><br />
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<br />Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-13278066606042366982012-04-13T22:33:00.001-05:002012-04-13T22:33:41.456-05:00Last on the Technological Train<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Here's a little sorry about my first MP3 player.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I used to work in a huge filing warehouse for the government of Canada. My days were spent deep in row after row of shelving where I would file for hours on end. I didn't mind it, to be honest. I enjoyed it because we were allowed to listen to music while we worked. For me, this meant bringing my portable CD player and a small booklet of CDs to work each day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Oh, let me first add that this was 2005.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Anyway, I would spend the night before work sifting through my CDs, picking out the ones I thought I would like to listen to the next day at work. It was kind of tedious, but I honestly didn't mind. It was about this time that I started doing my weekly radio show (you can learn more about that at the <a href="http://djpennylane.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Punks in Parkas</a> blog). I was carrying around my CDs every week to the radio show. I never wanted an MP3 player, or an iPod. What's the point? I wanted to support the musicians making the music and actually have a physical copy of the music. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Everyone had either iPods or MP3 players and while I was interested in them, I just couldn't be bothered.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Nothing lasts forever, and unfortunately, the radio on my portable CD player stopped working. I enjoyed listening to the radio in the morning and missed it horribly. I went that next weekend to look for a new portable CD player with a radio. This turned out to be a very difficult thing. Portable CD players were on their way out and iPods and MP3 players were the new wave. I caved and bought myself a very small, very cheep, no name MP3 player with a radio.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">After about a week, I couldn't believe I held out on this for soon long. Shortly after getting that little MP3 player, I moved up and got a myself an iPod. I've been attached at the hip to that iPod ever since. I would bring it with me everywhere, from work to shopping to the gym, it was always on me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">And that is kind of where my technological advancements stopped.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Until now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Start of this year, I caved and bought myself a laptop. I needed a new computer and the more I thought about it, the more sense it made for me to have a laptop. I actually have wanted one for a long time, loving the idea of taking my laptop with me anywhere to do writing and what not. I was in love with it from the first moment I opened it up and logged on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">With April came my 33rd birthday. When my parents asked if I would like a Kindle for my birthday, I kind of jumped on it. I had the same mentality with the Kindle and other eReaders as I did with the iPod. I didn't see the point, and there is something sexy about a house filled with books, right?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">That is until you have to move all those books. Ever try moving books? They are not just heavy, but beyond heavy. Sure, my two huge book shelves stuffed with books make me look intellectual and grown up (and I've almost actually <i>read</i> all the books contained in them as well), but they are just a hassle to house and move. Much in the same way my CDs had become. I've been exposed to eReader's for a while, as a friend of mine at work got one a few years back but I just never saw the logic behind it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've only had this little thing for less than a week and I'm smitten, beyond belief. Not only has it renewed my love of reading, but now I have easy access to all the books that I was having a hard time finding before. If the library or Chapter's didn't have the book, I wouldn't really take the time to order it in or buy it online, so the book that I wanted to read would just fade away. Now, if I'm listening to a podcast and I hear about a book that I think I might like, I can look it up and start reading it within minutes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Usually, this would be where it ends. How much more technological can I get? Laptop and Kindle, within months of each other? Surely that would be enough.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Not really.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Yesterday, I caved and finally got an iPhone. It's been no secret that I've been hating on the crappy cell phone I've been using. I didn't see much of a need for upgrading to a smart phone before, but suddenly, that option seemed like the only one that made any sense. The headphone jack on my iPod is on the fritz, so why not get a new smart phone that I can still play my music and podcasts on? New iPhone it is.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I couldn't be happier, to be honest. Maybe it was time for me to trade in my tired old paper book for the slick eReader. Time to get rid of my phone and replace it with this handheld little wonder. I need to stop holding off on change and grasp it with my virgin fingertips and immerse myself fully into it. Otherwise, I'll get left behind the technological revolution.</span><br />
<br />Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-55776338825234487892012-03-25T18:24:00.001-05:002012-03-25T18:24:33.284-05:0015 Years<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The other day I was thinking about how hard I've been finding it to commit to anything with full force. I find I start out strong and then I just sort of fizzle out, like I've completely run out of gas. I get really negative on myself about my lack of motivation. Where did my desire to follow anything to end come?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While I was getting negative on myself, it hit me that there was something I committed to completely and that, to this day, I still find myself as committed as I was when I first started.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The past November marked 15 years meat free for me. Yes, I've now been a vegetarian for over 15 years. I am coming close on the milestone of being a vegetarian for over half my life. I stopped eating meat on November 12th, 1997. Funny, I have a hard time remember places or important historical events and names but I remember the exact day I stopped eating meat.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I often get asked what my reasons are for not eating meat. There are many and honestly, those reasons have changed and morphed over the years. The truth is, when I stopped eating meat in the first place, it most had to do with my love of animals and my inability to even think about harming another life form so I could have something to eat. I just couldn't wrap my head around it anymore. I hate to use the term enlightened in this regard, but I did become somewhat awaken to the concept that beef is a Cow and that Cow had a life before us and our love of hamburgers came along. I never really enjoyed meat all that much and the decision to cut meat out of my life was actually very easy to do. The hardest part was adjusting to making my own food and eating meat free in a household that's staple was steak and potatoes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The day is clear in my mind for a few reasons. It's easy to remember that I stopped eating meat the day after Remembrance Day and that it was also my last year of High School. My level of vegetarianism has changed over the years. I started off cutting out all meat and fish and anything that contained even the smallest amount of animal products. Then a few years into it, I decided to try a Vegan diet. It was really difficult at that point and I gave up on that after a few months. When I started my life without meat, it wasn't very easy. There wasn't a lot of options in the grocery stores or in restaurants. I found I ate a lot of the same things and had to make a lot of dishes for myself due to the lack of good tofu/soy products out there. These lack of options didn't discourage me because I just couldn't imagine eating another living thing. It was that simple.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">So where has my motivation gone? Is it that hard to focus that motivation onto other things in my life? I need to, I have to. I know I can do it, so why aren't I?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-47006108763351244202012-03-24T22:51:00.000-05:002012-03-24T22:51:47.070-05:00Unable<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've just been completely unable to write anything, lately. It's more than annoying to me as I have the time to sit and do it, yet the moment I do, there is nothing there. Am I not trying hard enough?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Truth be told, I don't think about writing all the time, at least not in the same context I did years ago when I couldn't touch pencil to paper without something coming out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I suppose I can forgive myself, on a small level. I've been working very hard the last few weeks, and my son is just getting more and more active. Summer is on the horizon. The time of sitting inside is over, and maybe the promise of warm and sunshine may help.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Or am I just lazy? I'm unable but I am completely unable? I am able, aren't I? </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-58359706286200934772012-02-19T17:27:00.000-06:002012-02-19T17:27:19.992-06:00Become Martha<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm currently sitting in my kitchen, the oven is clicking on and off, keeping the interior a nice 350C, the dishes that I just washed are dripping softly into the sink below as they air dry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I don't spend enough time in here.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I have a love/hate relationship with my kitchen. There are moments when I can't tear myself away from this room and I create strange and different dishes without any trouble. Then there are other times, like lately, where this is the last room I want to spend a minute of my time in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Where has my passion for food gone? I've been eating crap lately, and in turn my family has been eating crap too. Bruce has stepped it up and over this weekend made some of the most amazing home made falafel balls I've ever had and an amazing pizza from scratch. What have I done? Not a damn thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm tired I guess. Work is kind of crazy lately, with overtime being offered almost every weekend. Hard to say no to that kind of money, so instead of spending time in my kitchen making treats for my family, I'm sitting in my office, staring at a computer screen for 7.5 hours a day on a Saturday. By the time Sunday comes, I just want to do nothing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I need to shake out of this. So it's a cookie day for the family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Making some chocolate raspberry sandwich cookies and now going to make some simple and delish chocolate chip cookies...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'll let you know how this all turns out, as I become Martha Stewart again... </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-19506536939265605572012-01-22T10:03:00.001-06:002012-01-22T10:03:58.915-06:00Career Path<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Everyone imagines what their life will be like when they are older. I think the habit of doing so is ingrained in us at a young age. How many times did we get asked in school what we wanted to be when we grow up? </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I never really saw myself where I am. I always said I wanted to be a writer in some regard. I wasn't picky, though I really wanted mostly to do a combination of the odd feature article and a lot of fiction and reality based fiction writing. I suppose, if you really thing about it, I'm not that far off. I have written a few published articles, and I blog. I have written two full length novels. I suppose the only difference is that I am not getting paid for writing. I would have loved to have lived off this hobby, but sometimes it just doesn't work that way. While I used to be very frustrated with that, I'm not that upset about it anymore. I understand that a good chunk of it has to do with my own motivation and my own writers block. I also was very lucky and fell into a good and stable career path early.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Career path - not a term you hear often these days. I used to work three jobs at one point. At one of my retail part-time jobs, while talking about my lack of direction in my career path she told me that while it was normal for our parents to stay with the same job for 15, 20, 30 or more years. These days, its not so common and there is nothing at all wrong with that. She was in her mid fifties and had worked about six or seven different jobs in her life. She said the change has always kept her on her toes and kept her focused. I admired her, truly. She was fantastic at finding the positive angle in every situation. And while I'm pretty sure I'll be working with the same company I am with now for a very long time, I do understand the joy that variety can bring. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Like I mentioned earlier, I at one point worked three jobs at one time. It was trying and I had little to no free time but the variety of work I was doing kept my mind sharp. I became quick to adapt, fast to learn and found creative and interesting ways to balance my life at that time. Skills that I still use today, everyday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don't miss those days. While I learned a lot and was able to pay off some serious debt at that time, I would not recommend anyone work that much. I was exhausted most of the time and had very little free time. When I did bite bullet and go out with my friends, I would then suffer for the rest of the week. When I finally did have a day off, I really just wanted to sleep in late and do nothing at all. It was an exhausting time. Now, I seem to be at work less and less. I work a compressed work week, which means I stay and extra half our at work and get a day and a half off a month. I've signed up to try something my employer offers called Leave with Income Averaging. Basically, I sign up to take a minimum of five weeks off and work will average out my salary so I get a pay cheque doing those weeks off. On top of that, I'm still entitled to my three weeks of vacation time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was over the moon the day my first term contract came through with my current job. I could quit all three jobs I was working at as my salary at the new one would be comparable to what I was making working three different places. And I would finally have regular days off - every week. What a concept. Now, I couldn't imagine life any other way. How did I deal with working 10 days in a row? How on earth did I work eight hours at one job and go right to the other and work another four or five? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I try to think that I worked hard and deserve the break, that I wasn't just 'lucky' when I landed this job, but that it was karma's way of paying me back for all the stupid work I was doing all that time. I know that if my position ever ended that I would work three jobs again if I had to to make ends meet and I would do it with as much strength and dignity as I could. We all do what we have to in order to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. I don't ever want our son to feel that we can't do something because we are unable to afford it. I don't want him to be excluded from the simple things in life because we can't make ends met enough to budge for it. It's my goal for him to understand that while he won't always get what he wants, I will always make sure he gets what he needs. That is my job now and I take it on will full vigor.</span></div>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-61982784573373603022012-01-11T22:02:00.000-06:002012-01-11T22:02:27.382-06:00You Can Always Go... Downtown<br />
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are lots of reason why I love downtown.</span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It ranges from the simple, to the complex. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Downtown Winnipeg can be beautiful, soft and lovely. It can radiate a vibe that is completely natural and open. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Other times, it's gritty and worn. It's old and tired.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Even in those moments, I still love downtown. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can't express why. There is something about the darnkess of this city that gets under your skin and finds a home, like a tattoo.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I haven't had many bad experiences in downtown. Thinking about it now, I can only think of one moment recently where I didn't feel safe in my own back yard.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was living on Assiniboine Avenue, about a block away from the Legeslative grounds. At the time, my heart had been broken and I was drunk. It was late spring and I decided that it might be a good idea to wander along the river walk, towards the Osborne bridge. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It wasn't that late, probably close to 11 PM I think. I remember it was peaceful and enjoyable until I got close to the stairs leading up form the river walk to the Louis Riel statue. There was a group of young men, I believe about five or six. I don't believe any of them were older than 25. It was hard to tell. I didn't get close enough to them to get a good look.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I walked up the stairs, I started to hear the laughs and jeers of these guys. I couldn't hear completely what they were saying but I could tell from the odd word I was able to pick up that they were talking about me. It was really the first time I felt uncomfortable in my own city. I quickly changed my path and got far away from them. I did my best not to make it look too obvious. My heart was racing as I walked briskly to the Osborne bridge. I stopped halfway on the bridge and watched them. Some of them had skateboards and were trying to grind the long rails on the stairs. Mostly they were laughing and drinking. From my advantage point I could see the bottle they were passing among each other, trying hard to conceal. I watched until they got bored of the river walk. Didn't take long as there was no foot traffic around the legislative grounds that late at night. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After they moved along, after I saw their shadows blend into the night, I started my trek back.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That was really the one and only time I felt that hightened sense of danger. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my heart rate jumped. My hands clenched and I felt my knuckles go white.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been living downtown since I was 24. Almost ten years and in that time, I've only had one experience where I didn't feel in control of the situation. I do believe that when you live downtown, you do have to exhibit some level of simple street smarts. Maybe that is why I haven't had more negative experiences. I assess the environment around me, I avoid places that are dark and empty late at night. I'm careful. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I keep a very thin guard up all the time, I am always aware of what is around me. If </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you let that little guard down, even for a minute - well those are the moments you run into trouble.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I both live and work downtown. Part of the reason I love downtown so much is the fact that I can walk to work in about fifteen minutes. I'm lucky, I realize that. I wouldn't change any of that for the world, and I have a hard time thinking about moving out of downtown. I know I should think about getting a house, taking that next, logical step but I find it hard to consider doing that. I love the lights, the busy streets, the people and being so close to everything.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is the downside of course. Parking is a bitch and often deters people from coming to see me if they have to drive here. Also it can be noisy but you soon learn how to tune out the loudness. It does suck that there are no real grocery stores in the downtown area and the few that are here are super expensive and don't have the greatest selection. And of course, there are the homeless. You can't avoid them, they are here and its a fact of downtown living. It's simple, dealing with them. Be polite, be honest and don't ignore them. Simple rules to live by that makes things a lot easier on everyone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But even these negatives can't outweigh the positives for me. I love it here. I grew up in the country and can't see myself living back there. Nor can I see myself in the suburbs. The one way streets, the cracked sidewalks, the people - they all are in me and a part of me now. This is where I live and where I belong and I love it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-22139752753228927512012-01-07T23:17:00.000-06:002012-01-07T23:17:21.320-06:00Winter Woes<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is something off in me today. I am just overwhelmed lately by these feelings of sadness and my heart aches. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Winter woes, I suppose. We finally got our first decent snow fall of the winter. Strange, considering its January. By this time in the winter season, we are covered in feet of snow, the roads are a mess and ice coats everything. I'm sitting here in my living room, on the sofa looking outside of my window. I have a beautiful view, really do . I am over twenty flights up and my window gives me a fantastic view of both the Red and Assiniboine River, St. Boniface (our french quarter) and a lovely park just across the street. Everything is covered with white.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We had a brown Christmas this year. First Christmas in a while where I can remember seeing grass. I was too busy to give it much thought. I did notice that travel over the holidays didn't give me heartburn. I suppose that counts for something.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My view, out of our living room window has been frosted white. Is this what is causing me to feel, well, sad? Or am I just tired? What the heck is wrong with me?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This blog post is going no where. I had high hopes for it, I really did, but as I'm sitting here, writing this, I'm losing it and the post is going nowhere. I like to think I have enough writing ability to know when I'm on a sinking ship and baby, this is starting to feel like the Titanic. Disaster is inevitable. Should I keep going to see just how epic it is? Maybe, by destroying my chances of completing a coherent post, I might somehow come back from the dark side and redeem myself.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I need to return to my theme, which as per my title is Winter Woes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm sad that my feet are constantly wet. My own fault as my winter boots just didn't make it past last winter and my search for boots this year has been slow at best. Hard to think about boots when you've had no snow to battle with. But now, that we have snow and its half frozen and half melted, I suppose I need something. Cold wet feet just won't do it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been dying to see Hunter enjoy the snow outside, but it's so wet and messy we haven't really had the chance to take him out that much. Kiddo is dying, I mean dying to go outside and make snow angels. He wants to slide down hills on his sled and drink hot chocolate outside. He hasn't had a chance to do much of that this season. He got a pair of ice skates for Christmas and we haven't even gone to get them sharpened as there is really no outside rinks to take him too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is hope, there is a light at the end of the winter tunnel. With the mild season we've been having, we won't be a frozen barren waste land for long. We are usually getting out first snow shortly after Halloween. The snow starts to stay around end of November. I remember going to the hospital to give birth to Hunter on November 25th and there was a soft dusting of snow on the ground, and shiny glittery snow flakes falling softly on my skin. Our six months of Winter will be cut to three or four. I can make it, I can deal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So why the sad vibes? Maybe I just need some fresh air, some movement? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Christmas is gone from this house - the tree has been taken down, the stockings have been put into storage and I feel just that much closer to spring, that much closer to breaking free... </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-9187302041425762162012-01-01T19:19:00.000-06:002012-01-01T19:19:30.620-06:00Is Anyone Responsible?<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A few weeks ago, I was listening to a podcast called <a href="http://www.onthemedia.org/" target="_blank">On The Media.</a></span> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It's a great little show that examines the medias roll in our daily life and also tries to hold the media responsible when it does dumb shit. I can totally get behind that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A few weeks ago, while at work, I had this show playing in my earbuds and heard and interesting conversation with some guy named Hunter Moore. Moore is the person behind the website <a href="http://isanyoneup.com/" target="_blank">Is Anyone up</a>?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> If you've been living under a rock (like me) and haven't heard of the website yet, let me fill you in. The website is a tumblr account of various personal nudes that people have taken of themselves. The majority of these 'nudes' I suspect weren't meant to go beyond the person they were being sent to. Moore accepts peoples submissions, puts them on the website and for an added kick, he links you to their social media pages (facebook, twitter, myspace, etc). The site has been tagged as a sort of revenge site. Been jilted by that guy you thought really, and I mean really loved you? Send that personal picture he took of his dick for you to Is Anyone Up and, ahem, expose him for all to see. Fell for a girl, only to realize that she fell for you, your brother, your best-friend and cousin? Send that lovely picture of her twat that she sent you to the site and have your sweet revenge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I heard the episode with Hunter Moore and made a note to check this out. The podcast was grilling him as to the legal and moral rights he had to do this. To be honest, I don't remember the podcast that well, or most of Moore's responses. I do remember he had a kind of flippant attitude about the whole thing, giving me the impression he didn't really have any guilt with his actions or thought about the long term implications this kind of website might have for the people whose pictures have been submitted to the website without there approval.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've checked out the site, and while I see it as completely immoral and totally outlandish, I can't get enough. It's like that proverbial car crash - the one you just HAVE to check out. I wasted most of my vacation going through that damn website.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">It really got me thinking about the moral responsibilities of people. My first thought is really this - if you are dumb enough to take a nude picture of yourself and send it off to some dude you don't really know, then yeah, you have to understand that the likelihood he is just going to delete the picture once you stop talking is pretty small. If you take a nude picture of yourself, its pretty stupid of you to think no one else except those you want to see it, will see it. From what I can see, most of the people that have been submitted to the website and Moore himself are in the 18 - 30 age set, most on the younger side. Who the heck thinks of the long term implications of snapping a picture of yourself in all your glory at that age? No one. You know why? Because you're fucking invincible. That's right, nothing can harm you, nothing can ruin your chances, you have the world on a string. It's not till you get a bit older and some of these mistakes come up to bite you in the ass do you suddenly take the time to think that yeah, maybe it wasn't a good idea to take that picture and send it tall the dudes in my intro to psychology class.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Then that brings me to Moore. Is he a psychopath or is he just a sick motherfucker who likes tits? Is he doing it for a laugh, completely unaware of how this can really mess up someones future or is he just filling a niche that people want? I hate to admit it, but I've been addicted to that stupid website for the last few days. Deep down are we all just savages?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Where it leads me to is this - if you take the picture and distribute the picture, then you have to take responsibility for where that picture could end up. Don't want to see your ass on a website that exposes you to everyone? Simple - don't take the stupid picture. As for Moore - well, part of me thinks he's a pig for doing this and part of me thinks that he's one smart dude. I'm your typical 30 something gal and I can't tear myself away from the site. I bet most of the people my age are the same way...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Be responsible, I suppose, be careful and most of all, be smart when looking at yourself in the bathroom mirror after a shower - keep the iPhone outta site. </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-71580022940091217342012-01-01T14:58:00.001-06:002012-01-01T14:58:23.774-06:00<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Maybe it's due to the fact that social media has connected us all on levels never before realized, but it seems everyone and their dog are making New Year's Resolutions this year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I've always given into peer pressure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm expecting great things of myself in 2012. Bloated statement, I know. I'm thinking that if I overcompensate with vast amounts of confidence, then I will have no choice but to be successful in my new year endeavors.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">1. Be healthy. This is a constant on just about everyones lists of resolutions. Who ever makes a resolution to be less than healthy? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">2. Be happy. Sounds simple, but I can easily let myself fall into this strange emotional pits. Time to put a stop to them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">3. Be Peaceful. Time to connect with my Buddha nature a bit more. Maybe more yoga?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">4. Be responsible. I just became debt free for the first time since University. So it's my goal to be a whole heck more responsible with all things financial. I do have some big purchases I'm going to be doing early this new year (glasses, new computer, possible used treadmill) and it's my goad to keep myself in good financial shape. I never want to be back to where I was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">5. Be loving. I sometimes forget to just be, well, loving. Need to work on that more. </span>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-52198088763830332012011-12-27T20:14:00.003-06:002011-12-27T20:14:24.501-06:00Random Thoughs on Christmas 2011<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I honest can not wait for 2011 to be over. What a hell of a year. While some amazing things happened, most notably our move to the new pad, a lot of shit happened. I mean a lot. A friend of mine has a theory that years ending in odd numbers are usually crap years. 2011 delivered on that theory in many stupid ways. Here's to looking forward to 2012. I know many people will probably say that my attitude has a lot to do with my crap outlook of this past year and I wouldn't disagree. I do also know that a lot of the stuff that really shot this past year in the foot for me were out of my control. Fuck you, 2011.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I hate Christmas Trees. I can't believe the hassle and waste of time and money it was for us this year. Last year we got ourselves a really nice real tree and enjoyed it. This year, we get our stupid real tree and pay over sixty bucks for it, only to be warned by our new resident manager that real trees are no longer allowed. That was news we could have made great use of knowing sooner than two weeks before Christmas. Not only did I have to throw that expensive shedding tree in the garbage, I also had to go out and drop ANOTHER sixty bucks plus on a fake tree. Why? Because I knew our son would be devastated to come home to find no Christmas tree in the apartment. I was a bit glad to get ride of the live tree. I kind of had a bit of a hate on for it ever since it fell over and spilled water all over our carpet and presents. Fuck you, real Christmas tree.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Christmas this year was a bit, well, depressing. We lost Granny (my dad's mom) about a month before Christmas. While she was ill and in the hospital, her dead was a little sudden and a slight shock. She seemed to be doing much better. While we all knew she wouldn't be returning home, we thought she would move on to the old folks home. We thought she'd be around for this Christmas and for a few more after that. We have a small family and dinner on Christmas eve with my family was just that much smaller. We all did our best to smile through it, and our little guy was a great distraction but there was still tears. My heart was ripped straight from my chest when my grandfather, at 88 years of age started to weep opening at the dinner table. While it's hard for us, I can only imagine how hard this is for him. He is our last grandparent, our last patriarch. Was happy to get through the holidays this year, for sure.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am on vacation until the new year. I've been off work from the 19th of December. The time has flown by to fast. There is both good and bad to taking vacation around Christmas. While I've had the extra time to do the shopping and wrapping without a child or boyfriend underfoot, that time has flown by. I am back to work in one week. Will I take vacation at Christmas again? I might. We'll have to wait and see.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I'm so frustrated with our son. While he is adorable and usually very good, he's starting to really act up these days. Tantrums, fits, hitting and screaming. Not only is it extremely stressful, but it's hard to deal with. What is the best tactic? Time outs don't usually work, I'm not really a firm advocate of spanking and I'm starting to worry it might be something deeper than just a three year old pushing his boundaries. He was a pretty good two year old - I actually started to wonder if there was such a thing as the terrible twos. Maybe it's the terrible three's. I'm not sure what to do about it. I'm almost at the end of my rope. Before I start to look at different methods and options, I am going to see if this is just some holiday blahs. That son of mine is very used to a routine and thrives on it. His whole routine has been completely thrown out the window this holiday season and I am hoping that with the return to day care and the usual routine that maybe he will calm down. I hate picking him up from day care and hearing that he has hit or thrown stuff at the other children. Today, while at a breakfast pot-luck brunch play date, he acted out and hit one of the children not just once, but twice. When I tried to remove him from the situation so I could talk to him about what he did and why it was wrong, he lost it and smacked me really hard a few times. I was mortified - completely and fully. I wanted to just take him outside, lock him in his car seat and sit down and cry. Am I that horrible a mother? What am I doing so wrong that is making him believe acting out like this is alright? I give him warnings, and I also follow through and take away privileges and things when he is not listening, so where is my plan of action going wrong? I need to do some serious parenting reading - any suggestions?</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">While I had a period there where I did not touch my camera in a while, I'm starting to fall back in love with it. Maybe it was the holidays, maybe it was just due time. I'm not sure but I'm thinking tomorrow might be a good day to go out with the camera, do some walking and take some pictures. Hunter is back in day care, Bruce is back to work and I'm on vacation, so why not spend some time doing something a little bit relaxing and fun for myself?</span></li>
</ul>Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-91732029197763063392011-11-14T08:57:00.001-06:002011-11-14T09:06:41.874-06:00Bye Bye Flu, No Nano, Three YearsI have seen death. It's not pretty. It's a fever induced hell that shows no mercy.<br />
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I despise Cold and Flu season. It got me in its horrible grasp a few weeks back and finally, after reaching the rock bottom of the flu, I've come out on the other side, feeling much better with only a slight cough to show for. How awful. Fever of 102+ on and off for four days. How ridiculous is that?<br />
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Regardless, it hit at the worst time. The start of November is the start of is <a href="http://www.nanowrimo.org/" target="_blank">National Novel Writing Month</a> and I was to sick to get a good jump on this years novel, so for the first time in years, I'm not participating.<br />
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It feels a bit odd, to be honest. I used to be completely locked to my computer the month of November, which is completely nuts as my son's birthday is also in November. Makes for a busy month and I have to be truthful, I am liking the calm. I'm not stressed out, I'm not worrying about my word count and I'm not stressing out about my story being complete crap. It's a nice change. I guess had I not been sick, I probably would have started my novel. I'm a sucker for punishment like that.<br />
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November is a busy month. Hunter's birthday is next week. Kiddo will be three years old - where did the time go? It's been a stressful, but fun year since his last birthday. The best part of it was the move to our new apartment. It's made some things much better in our lives. Having space is a great thing when you need it. I think back and wonder how all three of us lived in that one bedroom apartment for as long as we did. I suppose you just make things work when you have to and we just made things work. Our lives feel much more normal these days, more organized. I walk into my apartment and I don't feel crushed by all the stuff around me. I just have to convince Bruce to STOP bringing home used furniture. He come home on Thursday with a hutch for a desk. A rough, used hutch that doesn't match anything in our house. I was excited for the extra long weekend I was going to have but then my mood went completely sour when I saw that damn hutch. I understood the reason he brought it home but my god, no. I want it gone, I want it out. It it's not taken care of by this weekend, I am going to do it myself. Why make all this ugly miss-matched furniture? I know its sometimes hard to see stuff that is still useful go to waste, but sometimes you just have to.<br />
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I'm feeling a bit crushed down by this hutch. Maybe I'll get rid of it today...Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-48910816905812322892011-09-19T10:33:00.003-05:002011-09-19T10:33:43.209-05:00Monday MorningMonday morning. Almost as peaceful as a Friday Morning, really.<br />
<br />
Working a short work week is a good thing. I've missed it a lot. I used to work a compressed work week before I had my son Hunter. I loved it so much. I'd work an extra hour an a half every day and in turn, I'd get three Fridays out of four off.. I used to stay out late Thursday night and would spend my Friday's sleeping in late, doing errands, and getting ready for the weekend, which would usually consist of more late nights, copious amounts of alcohol and late nights.<br />
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Then I switched offices to where I am working now, met Punk Boy and subsequently had a child. The compressed work week had to end. Once I returned to work, day care and responsibilities outside of the home made it almost impossible for me to even think of working a compressed week again. Sure, I was bummed, but one has to do what one has to do.<br />
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Now, as things have progressed and have gotten more level, I'm back on the compressed work schedule. I only work half an hour later than usual, and in turn I get one and a half Monday's off every four weeks. Today is my first Monday off.<br />
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I was excited. I was looking forward to the calm and the serenity of being home alone, doing things on my own schedule and maybe getting some extra chores done around the house. Hunter is still off a day care, Punk Boy is off at work and I'm here, listening to the hum of the dishwasher.<br />
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I had to take this opportunity to write, but as I sat here at the computer with a bowl of yogurt, I realized I really didn't have much, if anything to say. There in lies the problem, a problem I've been having for a while now, that I really am not sure how to deal with.<br />
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Basically, I have run out of things to say, out of conversations to make, out of ideas to share. I've become rather blank. My days are spent rationalizing with a two and half year old, and by the time I get regular adult to talk to, my conversation skills have been beaten to a pulp by my son. I suppose I'm just feeling the burn of motherhood and of course, some days are worse than others, but I feel completely awkward in social situations where I feel the need to take the helm as the conversation is waxing. I have issues with meeting new people as my verbal skills are just lacking and I find myself talking over and over again about my family.<br />
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It's normal, I suppose, as the family is what I am around most, if not all of the time. Sometimes I catch myself talking about what crazy thing my son did and I can't believe I'm doing it.. AGAIN.<br />
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As for the writing, I'm stumped. Moments of inspiration come when they come but my time is not my own. Sure, I make notes and now that Hunter is a bit older, I can actually set him up with some toys and write for a few minutes, but it won't be long before he comes over to see what I am doing. Then it's all downhill.<br />
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So now that I have these quiet moments, these times to myself where I could just let loose on paper, I don't have much to say. It scorns me a little bit and makes me sad.<br />
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I shouldn't give up. The day is young, its not even the afternoon yet, maybe some sort of inspiration will hit me later...<br />
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I hope...Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-16704641836434318482011-09-05T21:01:00.001-05:002011-09-06T19:20:19.436-05:00Random Thoughts on the Last Day of the September Long Weekend<ul>
<li>Labor Day always makes me think of school and the evening of the holiday, I always find myself with this heavy sigh, much like the one I had in school, Labor Day really meant the end of summer, the end of free time and while I haven't been in school in ages, it still reminds me of it.</li>
<li>I think I hate Twitter. I really don't understand it. I've tried but to be honest, I think the site is to cumbersome (why doesn't the place where you type your tweets stay static at the top of the page? Then you can scroll through the tweets and not have to scroll ALL THE WAY BACK UP to the top when you suddenly decided you want to type something. I fucking hate that). I'm sure I'll use it here and there, but I have no vast love for the site and I don't think that will change</li>
<li>I'm surprised how much I have gotten used to the sounds of the trains outside of Union Station. Our apartment faces directly at them and the sound of the metal wheels on tracks echoes really loudly. I've gotten used to it. The first week in this apartment, the sound would wake me up, now I almost forget about it. Hunter will run frantically to the window when he hears it, yelling "Mommy, Train!" Most of the time, I've completely blocked it out.</li>
<li>Tomorrow is the start of a new diet plan for myself. I'm cutting way back on sugars and white flours. I need to eliminate how much of both of these things I eat. Going to cut back as drastically as I can and see if that helps me feel any better.</li>
<li>About that feeling better.. I've been pretty depressed for the last month or so. Not sure what it is, but I just can't seem to shake it. It's not an earth shattering depression, I'm not worried, I've just been in a funk that I can't seem to shake. Maybe some changes need to happen and I think starting with my diet is a good one.</li>
<li>I need new glasses. I also need more money to get these new glasses. Donations can be made directly to me. Expenses suck. I am really not looking forward to Christmas.</li>
<li>I'm very frustrated at my arms right now. I've been suffer with some nasty tennis elbow in my right arm for a while now and early into this long weekend, a heavy elevator door banged me on my left wrists, which have progressively gotten more and more painful. I've taken to wearing a tensor bandage on it today. It's not swollen, not bruised but it does hurt like a bitch,</li>
<li>Bruce is watching an Indiana Jones movie. I suppose I should join him. We tend to do agree on too many movies these days so when he starts to watch one I don't mind, I think I should join him.</li>
<li>My google search bar at the top of the screen currently contains the words "Piss Christ." You figure it out...</li>
</ul>
Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-27802342755058225982011-08-13T22:36:00.001-05:002011-08-13T22:36:17.876-05:00The Rise and Fall of Local BusinessIt's getting harder these days to really make a go of things economically, isn't it? I have to admit, I am lucky. I have a sort of job security that many others just don't have and I am very thankful for that every single day. I know it will take something incredible, like the downfall of our whole system of government for my employer to go belly up. I am thankful for that, I really am.<br />
<br />
Before falling into my current career path, I worked retail. I worked a LOT of retail and I was good at it. My parents constantly reinforced the concepts of respect and politeness, two characteristics that combined together, give you great success in that field of work. My first job was in a little hole in the wall burger stand in Lockport, Manitoba called Sonia's Stand. The boss there was a bit of a hard ass and did a lot of yelling, but some odd reason I respected that about her. She was a strong women, running her own business and making a great success out of it. She adored me, or at least I think she did. After my first summer of employment (the stand always closed up for the winter months), when I returned back to work in the spring, she seemed to warm up to me. I guess the fact that I survived that first season and came back for more made me realize I wasn't a complete push over. I worked at that small burger stand for three seasons before moving up and getting a job at Gaynor's, a locally owned grocery store in Selkirk, Manitoba. I was two years from high school graduation when I started at Gaynor's and I really enjoyed that job. So much so that I worked there until I moved on to my current career path. I took a lot of odd part time retail jobs while working at the grocery store (a few years after I started at Gaynor's, it was bought out by a retail chain, hence why I therefore call it 'the grocery store') - from odd freelance writing jobs to working in various clothing stores, both for men and women. I learned a lot about customer service during this time.<br />
<br />
There was this regular lady that used to come to the grocery store all the time. I worked in the deli department and it seemed like all the staff would run and hide when they saw here coming towards the deli counter. At first I couldn't understand why, but soon after being stuck serving here, I realized. She was a bit of a pain. She liked things done in a very specific way (who knew people could be so specific and picky about lunch meat?) and looking after her always seemed to gobble up a good chunk of time. After serving her a few times, I also found myself hiding when I saw her walking our way. While driving home from work one day, I couldn't help but think about this lady (we called her the 'ham lady' as the majority of her order was this disgusting cooked, plastic pink looking ham that she liked sliced so thin it was falling apart. Made the most awful mess of the meat slicers). No one wanted to deal with her and in turn, she came to despise the staff as much as the staff despised her. But why? I sure there are things I do or want that seem completely outlandish, and when these demands are not met, I get angry and frustrated. I decided that I would buck up, and cater to her, be nice to her and meet her demands exactly as request, with a smile, no less.<br />
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Experiment was a success. She soon became nicer, smiled. She even started to carry on a rapport with me, asking me about University, about things I was doing. I found her to actually be a very interesting and wonderful women. I often think about her and wonder how she is, to be truthful.<br />
<br />
Its simple. Its a very basic concept called Mutual Respect. It's a trait that you parents and community should instill in you at a young age and that you should never forget and never let it fall out of style.<br />
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It's simple, really.<br />
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Treat others how you want to be treated.<br />
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So, I suppose that's why I feel so indifferent when I hear about people who seem to lack this simple trait go under. Show some respect, show some class. I feel bad about my indifference (could it be my respectful nature playing with me? I hate to be spiteful to anyone having a hard time). I don't want to see anyone suffer, do not want to see any one's business close down, but when it could have been prevented with a little respect, I have a hard time feeling sorry.<br />
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The curse of retail is that you will often hate your clientele. They will grate on you and drive you completely nuts. I'd even go so far as to say you may even downright hate them most of the time. But despite all that, you have to show them complete respect, and cater to them. They are paying for that treatment, they will respect that treatment and they will return to your business over and over again. That is how small business succeeds.<br />
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Maybe your it was your attempt to be eccentric that made people view you as rude and sometimes nasty, or maybe that is how you really are. I can only go on my personal experience in these situations and from what I see, your habit of look down your nose at your customers can only add to a growing resentment that will lead to less and less customers coming through that door.<br />
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You have to offer more than an interesting environment or product to keep people coming to retail establishments these days. Money is tight, people are less likely to spend it freely so you better damn well make it worth our while. I am more likely to spend $15 at a store where I feel like my business was appreciated than a place where I feel like I am putting the people out by being there and supporting there business.<br />
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It all comes down to respect, to be truthful. Aretha said it best:<br />
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"You might walk in</div>
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And find out I'm gone</div>
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I got to have</div>
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A little Respect..."</div>
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Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-73200371376846828742011-07-12T08:22:00.002-05:002011-07-12T08:23:05.106-05:00Exorcist MomentI know two things about myself:<br />
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1. I have a high tolerance for pain. I used to doubt this was true, as it is pretty hard to measure how one tolerates pain, but I've been proven time and time again that my threshold for it is a little higher than normal. Getting tattooed never really 'hurt' as some would claim and when I suffered from that horrible epidural headache after giving birth to kiddo, well the doctors in the ER were surprised at how on earth I was able to function with one as the headaches caused by epidurals can bring people to their knees. So yes, I've accepted the fact that I have a high tolerance for pain.<br />
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2. I have a weak stomach. Strange combination, isn't it? You could probably sock me in the throat pretty hard and while I'd curse up a storm, I wouldn't really complain how much it hurt, but god forbid you throw up in front of me.<br />
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In my twenties, it was easy to avoid situations where I may have to see someone puke their guts out. We were adults after all and while I may have held my friends hair back while she puked, she was lady enough to shove her whole head in the toilet, making sure I didn't have to see the mess that was produced. I could hold my breath and hum loudly and all parts of the process could be closed off to me and I'd be fine. I'd be fine.<br />
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Being a mother has changed all that. Babies and Toddlers don't really have that 'puke' etiquette down. For them, the whole process is shocking, new and probably very scary. Hunter was the type of baby that spit up... often. In fact, it was a shocker when after a bottle he didn't proceed to spew it all back out again. For the first eight months of his life, a bib was part of his wardrobe.<br />
<br />
The first time, as a toddler, than Hunter was sick was very shocking and scary for me. I knew the day would come where I'd have to deal with a sick child and I dreaded it. Sure, I was used to the spit up, but how would I handle the other? To be truthful, I can't even stand it when <b>I<i> </i></b>throw up. I get very stressed out over the whole process and hate it more than I can explain. The first time it happened, shortly after his first birthday, is completely etched in my mind. How could one child have that much stuff in their tummy and how could all of that come out of that little tummy so fast? I like to think I kept my cool, and as I was home alone with kiddo, I had no one to really help me out when it happened. The distraction of my son being sick and distressed was enough to help me focus on just helping him and not what was coming out of him.<br />
<br />
Yesterday I had to deal with a sick child again, this time I wasn't home alone. We both knew something was up as my pale little boy laid on the sofa. He called me, sat up, called me again and by the time I got there, he had enough time to look at me and then start to throw up a whole days worth of water and juice. The vast force and amount reminded of that scene in the exorcist where the girl spews pea soup all over her bedroom. Just gross.<br />
<br />
Of course I had to put my weak stomach aside, which was easy to do as my child was crying, was sick and was sad. Very, very sad.<br />
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Amazing what a distraction can do. Amazing what a change in life's path can do. I suspect I'll have to develop a stronger stomach the older kiddo gets. There will be more disgusting incidents, I'm sure. Blood, stitches, broken bones. While I hope none of these things happen, I do have to keep in mind that they may happen and that I'll have to be prepared and be calm, no matter what.<br />
<br />Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-84482141891173105162011-07-03T09:30:00.000-05:002011-07-03T09:30:16.557-05:00Just Like Starting OverThere is an inevitable cycle to things. I suppose this ensures a complete rotation of the good and the bad in life, and maintains balance.<br />
<br />
I rather the cycle be replaced with a balance beam, one that requires both ends to be equal, much like a teeder-todder.Regardless of the picture you draw to discribe it, mine is completely out of sync right now. There is no balance, nothing really feels even.<br />
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Raising a child is a hard job, and while the older he gets, the easier parts of it get, some areas make me feel like pulling out all my hair from my scalp. There is a streak of defiance that grates on me complete, and pushes me far beyond my on common sense. Those are the moments the balance beam seems to tip and I find myself sitting aside for a minute, trying to calm myself down.<br />
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Being calm is the key, you see. I've learned this. It's a very simple lesson, but its one you can forget when wrapped up in the frustrated moments having at two year old can create. Never let them see you sweat, right? The moment you do, you have to start whatever process you were doing at the very beginning and I feel like a complete failure.<br />
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Bedtime is the most consistant example. If I can keep it cool, not loose my shit, things work out much better. Not always, but there is a better chance of success. As any typical two year old, kiddo just doesn't want to go to bed when you tell him, and if I stick to the plan of just taking him back to his bed every time he gets out without any conversation, without any anger or frustration, then the process usually ends quickly (if you consider doing this half an hour quickly). As soon as I show my anger, as soon as I start to talk to him, raise my voice at him, then the whole process starts over and it takes twice as long to get him to settle down.<br />
<br />
It's a simple lesson, but one that is easy to push aside in a moment of complete frustration when your two year old just won't settle down. I shouldn't get so frustrated, but truth of the matter is a lot of my time after having kiddo isn't <i>my time</i> anymore. I'm up early in the morning, getting him dressed and fed before I get myself ready for work. I work full time, and when I'm done my shift, I got straight to pick him up and bring him home. Then I start to get dinner ready, and then we eat and then its clean up time, after that its kiddos bath and then his bedtime routine of being read a book or two starts and then the 'game' of keeping my cool with he constantly gets out of his bed for the next 30 plus minutes. I want him to sleep because I need some time to myself in all of that. There is nothing wrong with that, there is nothing I should feel ashamed of in that, is there? I love my son but I also love some time to myself.<br />
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Lately the battle is getting a chance to sleep in. But as soon as he is up, I'm up with him and while in compared to 5:30 AM wake up on the weekdays, 7:00 AM might not seem so bad, but do that for a month constantly and you start to feel the lack of balance come in and the lack of balance creates riffs that build up over time until completely throw the balance out.<br />
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I don't want that, that's for sure.<br />
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I would rather just start over, get back to the balance..Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35610573.post-11729639755811512152011-06-18T08:47:00.000-05:002011-06-18T08:47:24.672-05:00Settle DownMid June - summer feels like it is officially here. The Red River Exhibition is in town, which brings not only rain, but the true start of summer here in Winnipeg. It's here folks.<br />
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The move is finished. We had the final walk-through of the old apartment last week and have only one or two more boxes to unpack. Neither of us are excited to unpack these boxes - filled with odds and ends just shoved into a box near the end of the move. They are cluttered with strange things and oddly disorganized. I do want to get to them as I have only found one of my heavy marble book ends and would really like to know where the other is...<br />
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Kiddo is adjusting well to the new place. While we still sometimes deal with the same evening gong-show (please see "go the fuck to sleep" on youtube), on the whole things have really improved. Today, Hunter didn't come out of his bedroom to wake me up until 8:30. In the old apartment, he would be up and causing havoc and getting us up at 7 AM or sometimes earlier. Now, even if he is up early, he can entertain himself in his own room, which is such a godsend. I forgot what it was like to be able to sleep in a little bit. I know some of you won't consider 8 AM sleeping in, but when I start my work shift at 7:30 AM and have a two year old child, well, suddenly anything past eight is sleeping in. I'll take it, thank you very much.<br />
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The new place is beautiful. Huge master bedroom with an en suite. Kiddo's bedroom and our living room have an awesome view of the Forks (for those not familiar with Winnipeg, the forks is the place in our city where our two main rives, the Red and the Assiniboine meet. The area has been developed into a wonderful tourist stop that even the locals enjoy hanging out at. Shops, beautiful walk ways, and awesome areas set up for events). There are a few kinks that still need to be ironed out, but all in due time, I suppose.<br />
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Today, being that the Red River Ex is in town and that it is truly summer, we are taking Kiddo to Tinkertown, a little amusement park for young kids. It's for a work associated family picnic,and seems like a great way to spend the day with the family. Being that it's fathers day tomorrow, it will be great to get Kiddo out of the house to run and play. Tomorrow will be breakfast in bed and lots of sleeping in on Dad's part.<br />
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So I stopped to write this to mostly update on the move. Things have good well, I know where 98% of my crap is and Kiddo has adjusted beautifully to his room. What more can you ask for?Penny Lanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15264921284665545626noreply@blogger.com0