Life in progress

Tag Archives: children


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SoCS – Info Overload

My internet connectivity has been so spotty today it may as well have measles. So I’m on the little transformer – a glorified tablet with a keyboard attached – that I took to Japan with me. It fits in my purse but unlike my laptop seems to have a good, well, decent, wireless capability.

You see, I’m not at home. I’m out visiting a college campus as it’s the cheapest place I could find to stay. It’s my weekend off and since my ex has no where else to go, he’s looking after the kids at my house. It’s my only chance to get some work done. And working I have been! I’m so very happy to be almost at the end of my current edit. Then it will be back to the beginning of the novel once more and that should be it.

I do very much hope to start blogging again too, and to begin reading all the great blogs out there that I have sorely missed. I also hope to actually write something interesting soon… I think this post has failed miserably.

That’s enough information overload about me. What’s new with you?

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Check out Stream of Consciousness Saturday and join in with a post of your own! https://lindaghill.com/2015/06/05/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-june-615/


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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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One-Liner Wednesday – Throw ‘Em a Pool Noodle

You can’t save someone who lacks the desire to have an active role in his or her own rescue.

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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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O is for Once

Once upon a time there was a girl who spent most of her time alone. She lived with her parents; their best friends–a childless couple–lived next door. On weekends there were parties. Parties with all adults. The girl would go to the parties until an acceptable time which was bedtime and then she would go upstairs and read in her room, or colour, or play with her dolls. Occasionally one of the adults would come and say hello, but for the most part she spent her time making up stories in her head. In her imagination she had a life with many friends of her own. They would have parties most weekends and they would laugh and have serious discussions.

The girl didn’t mind being alone because even when she was with people, she would usually observe, listen, and let her imagination wander. She was a little jealous of her friends–her real friends–who had siblings, but she couldn’t really picture what it would be like never to be alone.

As she grew up she found that she liked people well enough. In high school she had a wonderful group of friends with whom she used to party. They’d sometimes skip school and drive to Niagara Falls just for fun.

But what comes around…

Now the girl is older and has a family of her own. She still has one of her old high school friends who she sees every day. She sits in her room and reads and imagines worlds in which people have parties with lots of friends, but now she has a computer on which she records her imaginings full of colourful adventures and happy endings. Stories that begin with “Once upon a time.”

 


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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 – Exotic Pets

I’ve always wanted a snake. I love snakes. I remember in high school having a math teacher who used to bring his snakes to school, usually on Hallowe’en – he’d have one or two hanging around his neck as he walked the halls making half the school scream and run the other way and the other half would be drawn to him in fascination.

You may have seen recently that I have two cats living in my house at the moment. I prefer dogs, however. I would have liked to request a service dog for my Autistic son, Chris, but for some reason he’s afraid of dogs and always refused to have one when I suggested it. He’s also afraid of the cats, though he won’t admit it. He hides in his room whenever they come upstairs unless he really wants something from the kitchen. Then he seems okay with them. He’ll pet them even. People ask me if he’s ever had a bad experience with a dog – I don’t believe he has. At least not while in my care, though we did have a babysitter with a dog once…

It’s scary having a child with a huge fear of animals. There was a time when I couldn’t take Chris out unless we were going in the car. I took him for a walk once with my eldest son and Alex who was in a stroller at the time. Chris would have been about eight years old maybe. So we’re walking on the sidewalk of a moderately busy street and these kids coming the other way were walking a dog – a German Sheppard – and the kids were being dragged by the animal having decided it was going to run. Chris decided to run away from it. I couldn’t let go of the stroller because I didn’t know what the dog would do to Alex so I had my other son (nine years old) chase Chris back up the street. Chris eventually ran into the road not having the sense at the time to realize that a car would certainly hurt him worse than the dog probably would. Luckily nothing was coming. Gone were the days of taking the kids for a walk together. It was too dangerous to do alone.

I still worry about him when he’s out alone, even though he’s now 19 years old.

Snaking back to the beginning of the post that’s gone wildly off track… I still want a snake. What do they eat? Not sure how I’d handle the tweets of crickets through the night, and if it’s big enough … let’s just say I like mice too.

It’s a purchase that’s going to require some research.

This post is part of SoCS: https://lindaghill.com/2015/03/13/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-1415/ Click the link and join in today! Yes, you!

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions


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SoCS – Relatives

I think, sometimes, about the fact that when my mother passes away I will have no relatives here in Canada other than the ones I made – my three kids. When I think about it I feel alone. I realize that should my eldest son ever have children, I will have more relatives. The other two of my boys will likely never have families.

So where will be my legacy? I wonder if maybe that’s why I write… to ensure there will be something left of me, even if it’s not a blood relative. I used to think about this in regards to my father. As an only child, and a girl to boot, the only chance of my father’s name being passed down was if I kept it. But I didn’t, in regards to my children. They have their father’s surname. So at this branch of the family tree, the name Hill will end… or will it? Again, if I publish my novels perhaps it will live on, at least as a concept if not a warm body.

As the generations pass on we are all eventually forgotten in everything but name. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could be somehow remembered though? Words go a long way.

This post is part of SoCS: https://lindaghill.com/2015/02/20/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-february-2115/ Check it out and join in the fun!

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions


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A Rant about Memes

Facebook is littered with them – memes which state that if you care about something you must prove it by re-posting a picture with a bunch of often grammatically incorrect sentences or misspelled words. Things like, “If you want cancer to cured, re-post this in the next twenty seconds,” or “Share if you think animals have rights too.” Of course I want a cure for cancer to be found, and I certainly can’t stand to hear about animals being mistreated, but I never re-post these things – I don’t feel that I need to prove the way I feel to anyone.

But the one that really gets me are the “children with special needs need to be treated like anyone else” memes.

Like this one:

1517440_10205983584770964_93714871328423065_nNo. No, no, no, no, no. I won’t re-post this on Facebook. (Yes, I know it’s going to show up in my feed when I publish this blog post, but at least it’ll have an explanation with it.)

Do I want people to be aware that kids with special needs need to be treated just like everyone else? Yes. Do I want to be guilted into posting this because it shows I have “a strong heart”? No. Do I sound ungrateful right now? Maybe.

I don’t feel that I need a strong heart in order to love my two kids with special needs, and I don’t think anyone else requires a particularly strong heart to care about them. They just need to be observant and kind. Treating any human being with kindness is a simple matter of compassion and at least an attempt to understand. No one has to prove themselves as far as I’m concerned, unless actually confronted with a situation in which they can provide a smile or at least refrain from saying or doing something nasty.

I mean seriously, how far does one of these Facebook memes go? If someone is confronted with an uncomfortable situation in a public place where an Autistic adult walks up to them and begins to talk about his or her imaginary friend, does the poster of the meme remember they posted it and take it to heart? No. The last thing on someone’s mind in this situation is Facebook.

Rather than posting a meme, learn something. Take the time to think about what you’d do. Read articles written by the parents of a special needs child and take their advice. Being guilted into posting on Facebook is useless unless you know what it means.

Ungrateful rant finished.