Life in progress

Category Archives: Parenting


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SoCS is…

Is that really the time? I’ve been trying to sit down at the computer all day. But with the kids going away for two weeks to their dad’s – yes, two whole weeks kidless – I’ve been running around like a headless horseman… where did that come from?… trying to take care of everyone. No, that doesn’t mean I’ve packed a damned thing. But Alex wanted to spend time with my mother and Chris needed his chicken McNuggets and Alex wanted to play Life (dad doesn’t have Life… the game that is. He has a life) and do a puzzle and later we have to build Lego… Maybe I can convince him to help me pack.

Packing isn’t a big deal for me. I regularly pack the night before I go on a plane trip, to stay somewhere for a couple of weeks. If I’m gone for a weekend I pack a few minutes before I walk out the door. I remember making long long lists once upon a time. Especially when I went camping. Ah, I used to love camping. Now I don’t think my body could take it.

Speaking of my body, I have a mosquito bite on the bottom of my foot. On the ball of my foot. Feels great just to stand up. My shoulder is almost back to normal, and with only one visit to the physiotherapist. He gave me a bunch of exercises to do, but it seems like it was going to get better no matter what. I think the steroid injection did most of the work.

Speaking of work, I think I’m just about finished my edits on my novel. I need a few people to read the first couple of chapters though, to tell me if it makes any sense. I’m too involved in it to tell. I read it and I think it’s okay, but I’m not sure if it sounds pretentious. I dunno. Any volunteers?

So now I’m trying to decide what the title of this post alludes to. SoCS is good for some things, like getting everything out of the mind that’s been sitting there for a while. Like clearing the cobwebs away from the back of the china cabinet that no one has moved in six years because they don’t want to take all the china out.

SoCS is bad for keeping on track on a subject. So let’s see… SoCS is…

 

Here: https://lindaghill.com/2015/07/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-july-415/  Click on the link to join in!

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

P.S. Happy 4th of July to all my American friends!!


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Neglect

I was going to write this post this afternoon but instead I took a three hour vacation nap. It was badly needed – that’s all I can say in my defense.

You may have noticed that I’ve kinda gone missing for the past week. And if you have, you might be wondering why. If so, you’re not alone. I’m wondering why too. My occupations of the past week have included but are not limited to having one of my kids home already on summer vacay (the other one’s last day was today), a weekend road trip to Montreal to see Rush in concert (they were awesome!), working on editing my novel (yes, still), watching Downton Abbey on Netflix (I’m so addicted, thanks Joey), and worrying about whether or not I’ve, somewhere down the road, (pun not intended) screwed up the numbering on my “Second Seat on the Right” series only to get to August 31st and find out that my year had more or less than 365 days. I mean seriously, how much would that suck?

All this to say I’m sorry for not reading a single One-Liner Wednesday (yet), neglecting my comments, and generally ignoring everyone on WordPress. If you’ve wondered why I haven’t visited your blog lately please don’t take it personally. At the moment you’re all on the continent and I’m set adrift at an overwhelming distance away. *waves*

Please send Big Macs via carrier pigeon. And if you do see me, I beg of you, don’t thumb your nose at me. I’ll be back, I promise.

P.S. Please look for the SoCS prompt tomorrow!


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One-Liner Wednesday – Quite Right

Chris and Mum

Chris and “Grandma” (my mother), October 2014

When asked whether or not my 19 year old Autistic son was able make his own lunch, like an excellent Master of a servant, he replied, “I’m good at letting my mom do it.”

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Anyone who would like to try it out, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. To execute a ping back, just copy the URL in the address bar on this post and paste it somewhere in the body of your post. Your link will show up in the comments below. Please ensure that the One-Liner Wednesday you’re pinging back to is this week’s! Otherwise, no one will likely see it but me.

As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS), if you see a ping back from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.

Unlike SoCS, this is not a prompt so there’s no need to stick to the same “theme.”

The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are:

1. Make it one sentence.

2. Make it either funny or inspirational.

Have fun!


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SoCS – Plonk

I have a best friend who, if you’ve been following me for a while you’ll know goes by the name of John (mostly because that’s his name) but I’ve thought about changing it. I already have, on occasion.

John is a fan of making sound effects. I don’t know if he really realizes he’s doing it, but often when he sits down across from me at my kitchen table he says “plonk” as his butt comes in contact with the chair. So I’ve started calling him Batman.

I wonder sometimes about my seeming obsession with grammar. Where some people may hear a “sound effect” when someone does what my BFF does, I identify it with onomatopoeia. Does that equal obsession? Or is it simply because I’m in the throes of editing that it’s with me constantly? I can tell you, it’s killing me that I’m not able to edit this.

My concentration is shot – Alex’s friend just came over to play video games. With the sound on. (Normally I don’t have to listen to movies, shows, and games since Alex is Deaf – his friend is hearing.) So my world is full of sound effects. Whoopie!

This all-over-the-place post is part of SoCS. Go here: https://lindaghill.com/2015/06/12/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-1315/ and see how easy it is to join in the fun! Sock it to ’em!

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions


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One-Liner Wednesday – Love is…

CAM00673If I could reach up

and hold a star

for every time you’ve made me smile…

…the entire evening sky would be

in the palm of my hand.

Edit: Find the artist who created the image on this fridge magnet here: http://deloresart.blogspot.ca/
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Anyone who would like to try it out, feel free to use the “One-Liner Wednesday” title in your post, and if you do, you can ping back here to help your blog get more exposure. To execute a ping back, just copy the URL in the address bar on this post and paste it somewhere in the body of your post. Your link will show up in the comments below. Please ensure that the One-Liner Wednesday you’re pinging back to is this week’s! Otherwise, no one will likely see it but me.

As with Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS), if you see a ping back from someone else in my comment section, click and have a read. It’s bound to be short and sweet.

Unlike SoCS, this is not a prompt so there’s no need to stick to the same “theme.”

The rules that I’ve made for myself (but don’t always follow) for “One-Liner Wednesday” are:

1. Make it one sentence.

2. Make it either funny or inspirational.

Have fun!


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The Cycles of Mother’s Day

I have memories as a child of preparing breakfast, with my father’s help, to bring to my mother in bed on Mother’s Day. I knew as well as he did that it would be no surprise, but we pretended, he and I. I remember a few odd gifts I gave her over the years, but the one that stands out the most was a garbage bag full of well-fermented horse shit I brought home in my car from the ranch where I worked. Her roses loved it and yet she still rolls her eyes over it.

As a new mother myself, my very first Mother’s Day was a revelation. Being pampered by my son’s father was a dream come true. Those beginning years were special indeed – breakfast in bed was mine, although sometimes those breakfasts were inedible having been made with love by my young children. I grinned and did my best to eat them without gagging anyway.

Today I find the cycle has changed once again. I made the coffee last night so Alex, my youngest, could come downstairs ahead of me and push the button to start the coffeemaker. I’m in the not-so-unique position of being single, having my three sons at home, and soon I will be picking my own mother up to spend the day caring for her, though she’d never concede to the idea that it’s the other way around. She wants me to depend on her and I’m okay with that. It’s like a dance, graceful in its complexity with me agreeing to almost anything and her… I’m not sure if she still understands that I’m doing it or not, but the grand act of denial, if that’s what she does, is Oscar-worthy. And of course there are my own children. To an extent my eldest is taking care of me, helping me not to pull my hair out both with his physical aid in babysitting and housework and his awesome sense of humour.

So it goes. The child becomes the mother, the caregiver; the giver of life as she comes closer to the end of her own, becomes dependent once again.

I love being a mother, but in the end it can be likened to a bag of horse shit. For the amount of work it takes, the load of stress that accompanies it, and the headache-inducing number of eyerolls, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.


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V is for Verity – and SoCS

I’ve heard the word “verity” before but it’s not one I was familiar with. But what a wonderful word it is! According to my thesaurus it’s a noun, synonymous with actuality, authenticity, truth, and truthfulness, among a few others.  Here’s the link to the dictionary definition: http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/verity

Verity, as it turns out, is a huge factor in my life. I strive to live as authentically as I can. I’m not one who has ever seen the point in telling untruths – they serve no one from what I can see. Another of the synonyms is “validity.” How can one verify the validity of an untruth? Okay sure, the occasional white lie so as not to hurt someone is an exception, but things like telling people that I’ve done something in the past that I actually haven’t done; sure I’ve been bungee jumping! I’ve even jumped out of a plane! No. Just no. I have had enough adventures and experiences without making any up. (Just to clarify, I have never, nor will I ever jump off anything high enough to warrant safety equipment. Eighteen inches is plenty, thanks. And even then, I’m afraid of straining an ankle.)

Not that I’m judging people who do create their own adventures in their minds. I’m sure they have their reasons; I understand the desire to impress someone I’m meeting for the first time. I suppose for me part of it is the fear of being caught out in a lie. That’s an awful feeling, isn’t it? I remember, vaguely, the first and only time I lied to someone to impress them. I was a child at the time, maybe around eight years of age. I felt guilty immediately and vowed never to do it again.

There are many ways to live with verity apart from being truthful to others. Being true to one’s own nature is another. I found that having a friend–a manipulative, narcissistic friend–who once upon a time convinced me to do things and act in ways that were against my true nature was one of the darkest times in my life. I began to not trust myself–my own feelings and my authentic actions–and I did things that simply weren’t me. Thank goodness I’m away from such an influence now.

In the story that is our lives, verity is a great thing to have and to hold on to, not just for ourselves but for the people around us and especially our children. How do you strive for verity in your life?

This post is loosely related to the SoCS prompt, found here: https://lindaghill.com/2015/04/24/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-2515/ Click on the link and join in today!

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions


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N is for Nonsensical

It’s so much fun to be silly sometimes, isn’t it? Daft. I love the word, “daft.” It’s the third synonym of the list in my thesaurus. It conjures the image of Daffy Duck with his aweththome liththp and having his head blown upside down by a shotgun. It’s incomprehensible to me how they can sensor Bugs Bunny, and yet when I read it here it sorta makes sense.

But I didn’t grow up violent because I watched Loony Toons. The coyote never made me want to mail-order in a few sticks of TNT to blow up a bird. (I used to feel so sorry for the coyote. Especially when he put up that tiny umbrella just before a gigantic boulder landed on him.) I’m glad some of those old shows still exist though.

I often write absurd scenes, like the one on my fiction blog last night: click it. You know you want to. But I’m trying to think of the last time I actually did something silly when I was alone. Like skipping down the sidewalk instead of walking. Mostly I do these things with Alex. My neighbours must think I’m crazy sometimes, dancing in my kitchen or screaming back at him for fun. I know I get some strange looks when I make faces at him as we stroll through the mall. But these are my real pleasures in life. Being a kid again. Or at least acting like one. It’s very freeing.

When was the last time you acted like a kid?


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SoCS – J is for Journalist

Well that worked out well. I don’t think I need to take a picture of my thesaurus this week to prove that “journalist” is in fact the second-last word on the left-hand page that I turned to… you trust me, right?

Honesty in journalism is something that’s apparently hard to come by these days. I don’t often listen to or read the news. I wish I had less going on in my life that I had the luxury to put other people’s and countries’ business closer to the top of my priority list, but it just ain’t happenin’. My mother was recently diagnosed with ‘mixed dementia’ which includes a touch of Alzheimer’s, and though I haven’t even properly researched what that means, I have been led to understand that the difference between dementia and Alzheimer’s Disease is attitude. Let’s just say she hasn’t been easy to deal with these past few years and it seems to be getting worse by the day. While she hasn’t displayed any of the outbursts you sometimes hear about, nor has she gone wandering (thank goodness) but I’m finding myself agreeing to being the stupid one (her term) more often than not to avoid arguments. I really do need to learn more about this disease.

So where was I? Oh yes, journalists. I can’t imagine myself as a journalist. I can’t interview someone to save my life, and I’m afraid that any reporting I did would end up more speculation and fiction than actual true story. I tend toward writing fiction – my imagination is probably one of the most prevalent parts of my personality.

Let’s see what synonyms we have here: hack. Yeah, that’d be me. Chronicler. Sounds painful. Oh Oh OH! Periodicalist! I like that word, though my spell check doesn’t. Let’s try using it in a sentence.

The periodicalist was found guilty of dangling participles. His sentence; to be reviewed…

Ha!

This post is part of SoCS: https://lindaghill.com/2015/04/10/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-1115/ Join in today!

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

and A-Z April

BATZAP by Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

BATZAP by Doobster @ Mindful Digressions

 

 


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F is for Forefather

Up until now, the word “forefather” has always seemed a little redundant to me. Of course after I turned to it in my thesaurus as my word of the day, I looked it up to get a little more insight on what exactly it means, but in the past I was all like, “of course it’s a FOREfather. Can’t really be an AFTERfather, can it? Dad has to come first unless someone’s discovered the secret to time travel – and going down that road is just ewww…” *thinks of that episode of Futurama in which Fry discovers he’s his own grandfather* But now I’ve discovered it means every papa that came before dear ol’ dad it makes a little more sense.

I’ve never been much into family trees. I know I came from somewhere and while it would be nice to know whether or not I descend from royalty (my kids’ behaviour sometimes indicates that I actually may), since it doesn’t much help me one way or another I don’t really care enough to go delving. I understand there are cultures that are way into knowing where they come from and I think that’s very cool. Information like that, passed down through generations and not having to be discovered from scratch would be quite useful at times. Then again, finding out your predecessor was a dirty rotten scoundrel might be equally as disconcerting.

Before I sign off on this post I really REALLY have to mention one of the synonyms I found for “forefather.” I’m going to start using it any chance I get – it’s so cool. Ready?

PRIMOGENITOR

Seriously! Doesn’t it sound like some sort of awesome Transformer! Imagine, traveling back in time and meeting up with this ginormous dude made of space-aged plastic who bends down, and roars in a heavy, digitally enhanced bass, “I AM YOUR PRIMOGENITOR,” (with emphasis on the OR) and then picks you up and starts bouncing you on his knee.

Here’s a visual:

DSC00335

I’m happy I have primogenitors! Aren’t you?