Today was the last day of school, and the last day of having a child in elementary school! I should probably feel a little emotional about that, but I just don't have any tears to shed today. This is a milestone, I know, and I suppose there is a measure of sadness that this chapter of our lives is finished. And yet, I feel more gladness and relief than sadness. Our years at Glenmore Elementary were good years, but I am ready to move onward and upward. I say that now, fully realizing that my feelings may change come September and my daughter's first day of middle school.
I am a little surprised about my emotionless state. Usually I do get emotional about such things. Perhaps I would have been choked up and swiping at tears had I gone to the year-end assembly this morning, but I felt quite crummy physically and stayed home.
The report cards were generally good, except for one subject on Sam's report card, which is a very loud and obnoxious 'F' in Social Studies. His mark is dependent upon his final exam mark, which we will not know until the end of July; however, I strongly doubt that his exam mark will be anywhere close enough to raise his mark above the fail mark. This means he will need to waste a day, maybe more, at the end of August, trying to make the repeat Social Studies 11 class into his schedule. He did plan for a spare next year, so he has an empty block to play with, but we still must hope there is a Socials 11 class during his spare block, or hope that any required juggling doesn't adversely affect his chosen courses for the year. Regardless, he will have a heavy year of school ahead of him, especially if he wants to graduate on schedule.
And that is something that can throw me into a bit of a panic if I allow myself the time and space to think about it...Sam will be entering grade 12 in the fall and graduating next spring! How can that be? It feels like only a few years ago that I graduated from high school. I certainly don't feel old enough to have a child graduating! But I guess this is my 20th grad anniversary. I feel so old.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Goal!
I registered this morning for a 5k race in October. Maybe I am crazy, but I think I am looking forward to the challenge...and finishing the race! I have realized that I need a tangible deadline or target to reach for, otherwise I am too easily distracted by how I am feeling or all the things that need doing apart from exercising. Running 5k has been my fitness goal for the 26 week weight-loss challenge that I have been taking part in since the start of the year. Here I am in the middle of week 24, and I have not given that goal any serious attention.
Kane and I went for a jog last night. Our route covered just over 4k, but I did have to walk the last kilometre or so. Still, that is not too shabby for someone who really hasn't run more than 1.5k at one time! I didn't blaze any trails yet. Our start to finish time was about 45 minutes, although I am sure that last walking kilometre would have been faster had we jogged. Had I jogged that last kilometre though, I doubt that I would be able to move today. My hips were feeling quite strained by that point. And yet, my hips don't feel too badly today. There might be hope for me yet!
Kane and I went for a jog last night. Our route covered just over 4k, but I did have to walk the last kilometre or so. Still, that is not too shabby for someone who really hasn't run more than 1.5k at one time! I didn't blaze any trails yet. Our start to finish time was about 45 minutes, although I am sure that last walking kilometre would have been faster had we jogged. Had I jogged that last kilometre though, I doubt that I would be able to move today. My hips were feeling quite strained by that point. And yet, my hips don't feel too badly today. There might be hope for me yet!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Hooray for the Weekend!
It has been a long day but a good one. Actually, the entire weekend has been long, busy, but good.
It all began Friday night with Abby's baseball game. We finally had decent weather, and the girls played a good game, even though we ultimately lost. Abby had an awesome hit for a double after a bit of a batting slump.
Yesterday was another sunny and beautiful day for Casey's double-header baseball games. His team played well, except for a couple of horrible plays, and soundly won both games. Casey pitched to start the second game, and he did an amazing job! I think it was the best pitching he has ever done, and he was only pulled from the game to save him for our game Monday night. Casey needed that boost of confidence.
After being at baseball most of the day, we came home and got to work on our renovation project. I put on the first coat of paint on the dining room wall. The red is a drastic change, but it looked great, even for only the first coat.
Today was another hot and sunny day. Abby and I finished painting the kitchen and dining room. There is still the ceiling, baseboards and trim to paint another day. Then Kane had to umpire a baseball game this afternoon, so I tagged along to watch the game.
I love the red paint! It really changes the look and feel of the kitchen, and it just feels fresh and exciting. And it looks great! Next up on the to-do list is the flooring.
But I have to go to court tomorrow for jury selection!
It all began Friday night with Abby's baseball game. We finally had decent weather, and the girls played a good game, even though we ultimately lost. Abby had an awesome hit for a double after a bit of a batting slump.
Yesterday was another sunny and beautiful day for Casey's double-header baseball games. His team played well, except for a couple of horrible plays, and soundly won both games. Casey pitched to start the second game, and he did an amazing job! I think it was the best pitching he has ever done, and he was only pulled from the game to save him for our game Monday night. Casey needed that boost of confidence.
After being at baseball most of the day, we came home and got to work on our renovation project. I put on the first coat of paint on the dining room wall. The red is a drastic change, but it looked great, even for only the first coat.
Today was another hot and sunny day. Abby and I finished painting the kitchen and dining room. There is still the ceiling, baseboards and trim to paint another day. Then Kane had to umpire a baseball game this afternoon, so I tagged along to watch the game.
I love the red paint! It really changes the look and feel of the kitchen, and it just feels fresh and exciting. And it looks great! Next up on the to-do list is the flooring.
But I have to go to court tomorrow for jury selection!
Friday, June 11, 2010
NOW
So, I just found out what NaBloPoMo's theme for June is, because I have a new email address and forgot to update my account there. The theme is NOW.
I am ready to finish this renovation NOW! I can almost see the finished product in my mind, and I am so eager to see it in reality. The drywall is up, and I am planning on painting on Sunday. First I need to do some wall prep...washing, some light sanding, taping. Even a few days ago, I was not looking forward to painting. I am not overly good at it, and I am not enough of a perfectionist to care about doing a perfect job. But today, right now, I want to paint!
I almost want to stay up late tonight to start on the prep, but I won't. Not tonight. We'll be spending about 6 hours at the ball park tomorrow, but I will do my prep either in the morning or in the evening, so that Sunday is all about the painting.
I am ready to finish this renovation NOW! I can almost see the finished product in my mind, and I am so eager to see it in reality. The drywall is up, and I am planning on painting on Sunday. First I need to do some wall prep...washing, some light sanding, taping. Even a few days ago, I was not looking forward to painting. I am not overly good at it, and I am not enough of a perfectionist to care about doing a perfect job. But today, right now, I want to paint!
I almost want to stay up late tonight to start on the prep, but I won't. Not tonight. We'll be spending about 6 hours at the ball park tomorrow, but I will do my prep either in the morning or in the evening, so that Sunday is all about the painting.
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
Weary Wednesday
Waking up has been hard to do for a while now, but fatigue has weighed especially heavy on me today. It is not atypical for me to hit the snooze button when my alarm rings at 7:00 in the morning, but that is just a reaction to the rude awakening and not a desire for a few more minutes of sleep. I hit the snooze, get out of bed, put on my glasses, and shut off the alarm. Until today.
The alarm rang. I hit the snooze button and fell asleep until the alarm rang again, and even then I could have easily fallen asleep again. I didn't, but I could have.
All day long I have felt so tired and drowsy. At 1:30 pm, I laid down on my bed and closed my eyes. I wish that I could say that I had a good nap, but I didn't. Not really. I might have dozed lightly for maybe 10 minutes, but I was still half aware of the noises made by Kane in the kitchen and the traffic outside. Then I was definitely awake. My exhaustion had not been sated, but I had at least achieved a measure of alertness, which could either be seized upon or ignored. I ignored it for a few minutes more before getting out of bed and putting myself to work.
My afternoon was a little more productive than the morning. I was able to do some purging and re-organizing in my bedroom closet, which helps me eliminate some clutter from the computer station. I cleaned the top of the fridge, removing dust and grime and more clutter. I tidied up the hall bookcase to make better use of that space and, you guessed it, eliminate more clutter. (Can you tell how much I hate clutter?) I also arranged pick-up next week for all the bags of excess clothing, shoes, toys, books, and stuff that we no longer need.
Undoubtedly I will awake still tired tomorrow and Friday morning, but I will go to work and make the most of my hours there, desperately hoping for a lack of drama and attitude. Saturday can be a sleep-in day, followed by a baseball double-header. Maybe I can start painting on Sunday? Monday will see me in court for jury selection. Whether or not I am selected will remain to be seen, but I would relish the opportunity, I think.
The alarm rang. I hit the snooze button and fell asleep until the alarm rang again, and even then I could have easily fallen asleep again. I didn't, but I could have.
All day long I have felt so tired and drowsy. At 1:30 pm, I laid down on my bed and closed my eyes. I wish that I could say that I had a good nap, but I didn't. Not really. I might have dozed lightly for maybe 10 minutes, but I was still half aware of the noises made by Kane in the kitchen and the traffic outside. Then I was definitely awake. My exhaustion had not been sated, but I had at least achieved a measure of alertness, which could either be seized upon or ignored. I ignored it for a few minutes more before getting out of bed and putting myself to work.
My afternoon was a little more productive than the morning. I was able to do some purging and re-organizing in my bedroom closet, which helps me eliminate some clutter from the computer station. I cleaned the top of the fridge, removing dust and grime and more clutter. I tidied up the hall bookcase to make better use of that space and, you guessed it, eliminate more clutter. (Can you tell how much I hate clutter?) I also arranged pick-up next week for all the bags of excess clothing, shoes, toys, books, and stuff that we no longer need.
Undoubtedly I will awake still tired tomorrow and Friday morning, but I will go to work and make the most of my hours there, desperately hoping for a lack of drama and attitude. Saturday can be a sleep-in day, followed by a baseball double-header. Maybe I can start painting on Sunday? Monday will see me in court for jury selection. Whether or not I am selected will remain to be seen, but I would relish the opportunity, I think.
Monday, June 07, 2010
Wake-Up Calls
It was incredibly hard to get out of bed this morning. My alarm rang at 7:00. I swiped at the snooze button and tried to keep my eyes open without yet actually getting up and out of bed. A few minutes passed before I finally dragged my body out of bed, knowing that I had to get up even if all I wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep.
I slept well enough, although I was awoken by the ringing of the phone at 6:00 AM. As I dashed for the phone, sans eye-glasses and with night-guard in my mouth, I knew who was calling, and I was not pleased. Of course it was my workplace calling to see if I could possibly come into work this morning, like for 7:00 or 8:00, but the earlier the better. I said no, without a shred of guilt, and stumbled back to bed, desperate to find my way back to dreamland as soon as possible.
I do not feel guilty about saying no, but I know that my negative response will not be looked on favourably by certain individuals at work. In the fall when it is time for my annual review, I know that this will be a topic that will be broached, a guilt-trip heaped on me to be more available to my slave-drivers. Naturally, they always seem to forget all the times that I do come in on a day off to cover a shift or come in earlier or stay later than scheduled. Last week, I stayed later for both my shifts. On Victoria Day two weeks ago, I came in two hours early after a 5:00 in the morning phone call! I realize that they usually only call when they are in a bind and need someone to come in, but what they don't seem to realize is that I do my best to be flexible and organize my life around my schedule.
Since I never know what my shifts will be more than a week and a half in advance, I am often forced to plan my appointments and errands on short notice around my schedule. If I am scheduled to work Thursday and Friday, then I will fill up my days off with everything that needs doing. I do not want full-time hours and this has been clear from the day I was hired. I think that I have been good about helping out my employers and co-workers when necessary. Sure, I may not always say yes to covering a shift, but I have said yes just as often as I have said no. And it is a little bothersome to know that all the good I have done is forgotten or ignored the moment I do what is best for me instead of the store.
Yes, I have seen first-hand how management reacts when someone "lets" them down, and it disgusts me. There is not a lot of respect floating around our workplace lately, which makes saying yes that much harder. It is bad enough going to work for a scheduled shift and being inundated with complaining and petty attitudes as soon as I walk in the door. Who wants to work in an environment like that? Do I really want to sacrifice a day off to subject myself to that? I don't think so.
It might seem selfish to my co-workers that I do not want to give up my days off so readily, but this is my life and this is how I want to live it. If I want to be home for my kids after school, that is my perogative, my right. If I only want X number of hours of work each week, then don't be surprised if I am not keen to add more hours to my schedule. Saying no is often difficult for me, and I have been taken advantage of many times.
In general, I think I am doing okay lately, healthwise, but sometimes I wonder. My little blue anti-depressant doesn't seem to give me the same vigor that it did way back at the beginning, and I look back at those early days and miss the energy, the refreshed awakening each morning. Part of me wonders if my groggy mornings are an indication that the depression is rearing its' ugly head. Or am I just exhausted from the busyness of life? I have more energy than I did before the pills began but not as much as I did in those first few weeks. Depression or not? Sleepiness has been hitting me hard the past few nights, earlier than what I have become accustomed to, and a good night's sleep never seems to be enough. I don't want to sink into depression, not like I was before, even though it was never severe. But I feel okay. There are no major dramas or upsets in life, outside of work, at least nothing fresh. There are plenty of stale dramas lurking in the shadows, but they are not on stage at the moment. Or so I think.
And now my eyes are heavy. My arms feel leaden, my fingers swollen. It is late and time for bed. No early morning phone calls, please!
I slept well enough, although I was awoken by the ringing of the phone at 6:00 AM. As I dashed for the phone, sans eye-glasses and with night-guard in my mouth, I knew who was calling, and I was not pleased. Of course it was my workplace calling to see if I could possibly come into work this morning, like for 7:00 or 8:00, but the earlier the better. I said no, without a shred of guilt, and stumbled back to bed, desperate to find my way back to dreamland as soon as possible.
I do not feel guilty about saying no, but I know that my negative response will not be looked on favourably by certain individuals at work. In the fall when it is time for my annual review, I know that this will be a topic that will be broached, a guilt-trip heaped on me to be more available to my slave-drivers. Naturally, they always seem to forget all the times that I do come in on a day off to cover a shift or come in earlier or stay later than scheduled. Last week, I stayed later for both my shifts. On Victoria Day two weeks ago, I came in two hours early after a 5:00 in the morning phone call! I realize that they usually only call when they are in a bind and need someone to come in, but what they don't seem to realize is that I do my best to be flexible and organize my life around my schedule.
Since I never know what my shifts will be more than a week and a half in advance, I am often forced to plan my appointments and errands on short notice around my schedule. If I am scheduled to work Thursday and Friday, then I will fill up my days off with everything that needs doing. I do not want full-time hours and this has been clear from the day I was hired. I think that I have been good about helping out my employers and co-workers when necessary. Sure, I may not always say yes to covering a shift, but I have said yes just as often as I have said no. And it is a little bothersome to know that all the good I have done is forgotten or ignored the moment I do what is best for me instead of the store.
Yes, I have seen first-hand how management reacts when someone "lets" them down, and it disgusts me. There is not a lot of respect floating around our workplace lately, which makes saying yes that much harder. It is bad enough going to work for a scheduled shift and being inundated with complaining and petty attitudes as soon as I walk in the door. Who wants to work in an environment like that? Do I really want to sacrifice a day off to subject myself to that? I don't think so.
It might seem selfish to my co-workers that I do not want to give up my days off so readily, but this is my life and this is how I want to live it. If I want to be home for my kids after school, that is my perogative, my right. If I only want X number of hours of work each week, then don't be surprised if I am not keen to add more hours to my schedule. Saying no is often difficult for me, and I have been taken advantage of many times.
In general, I think I am doing okay lately, healthwise, but sometimes I wonder. My little blue anti-depressant doesn't seem to give me the same vigor that it did way back at the beginning, and I look back at those early days and miss the energy, the refreshed awakening each morning. Part of me wonders if my groggy mornings are an indication that the depression is rearing its' ugly head. Or am I just exhausted from the busyness of life? I have more energy than I did before the pills began but not as much as I did in those first few weeks. Depression or not? Sleepiness has been hitting me hard the past few nights, earlier than what I have become accustomed to, and a good night's sleep never seems to be enough. I don't want to sink into depression, not like I was before, even though it was never severe. But I feel okay. There are no major dramas or upsets in life, outside of work, at least nothing fresh. There are plenty of stale dramas lurking in the shadows, but they are not on stage at the moment. Or so I think.
And now my eyes are heavy. My arms feel leaden, my fingers swollen. It is late and time for bed. No early morning phone calls, please!
Wednesday, June 02, 2010
Excavating Artifacts of an Ancient Friendship
I did something last week that I did not think I would ever do again. I mailed a note card to a former friend, one that I have not had any communication with for a couple of years, at least, and that was one-sided communication. That previous attempt to bridge the gap between us was my last hope. There is only so much that can be done when one party refuses to communicate and chooses to close the gate and raise the drawbridge. A wounded heart can only take so much. I reached out in vain and was content, for lack of a better word, to allow this former friend's silence signify the end of our relationship.
I had not planned on any further attempts at communicating. Why would I want to rip open scars still not wholly healed? However, I think God had other plans for me, but that really isn't too surprising. Most unexpectedly, I felt the need to set pen to paper and compose a card for this estranged friend. What I was to say I had no idea, but I thought there would be no harm in writing a note; I didn't have to actually mail it, I reasoned. My mind was blank. There were no words to write aside from her name. After all, this wasn't my idea in the first place!
And then it happened. I wrote, found words I didn't know were lurking within, and the more I wrote, the more confident I felt about mailing the card. It was a weird feeling but a good one, yet it wasn't until I was writing in my journal about the experience that I fully grasped the truth of the situation.
The card was for my old friend, but it was also for me, maybe even more so! For a long time I have been struggling to reconcile my feelings of the past with the present. There are so many good and wonderful memories to be found in the history of this friendship, but there are also painful memories, sad and bittersweet. And of course, there is no longer the friendship that was once so precious and dear to me. The end of the friendship was not a clean break. I can produce several hypotheses for why the relationship ended, but they would only be my own speculations based on my own feelings and perceptions. As much as I believe in my own understanding, I am realistic enough to know that I can imagine intentions that may not exist, but all I have to work with is my own thoughts, since my attempts to discuss the problems have yielded no actual discussion. It is precisely this uncertainty that fans the flames of my turmoil. How should I feel about our history when someone that was once as close as a sister can so casually toss me aside?
The words that flowed from heart to paper were simply expressions of love for the friend that I once had and an understanding that our history together was important to me and in the shaping of who I am today. Even if I may at times wish to erase those memories, I cannot and would not. I can choose to look at those memories with fondness, perhaps a measure of sadness, too. Just as I would mourn the death of a friend, I mourn the death of this friendship. A physical death would cause me to hold the artifacts of friendship close to my heart. They would be pulled out from time to time, caressed and looked at with fondness, memories flooding my heart with sadness and joy. This friendship may no longer exist, but I can choose to view the artifacts of this relationship in the same manner.
I mailed the card. A response would be unexpected, and I know better than to expect one in any form. But it does not really matter. Mission accomplished! I have a new peace about this situation now, and it feels right.
I had not planned on any further attempts at communicating. Why would I want to rip open scars still not wholly healed? However, I think God had other plans for me, but that really isn't too surprising. Most unexpectedly, I felt the need to set pen to paper and compose a card for this estranged friend. What I was to say I had no idea, but I thought there would be no harm in writing a note; I didn't have to actually mail it, I reasoned. My mind was blank. There were no words to write aside from her name. After all, this wasn't my idea in the first place!
And then it happened. I wrote, found words I didn't know were lurking within, and the more I wrote, the more confident I felt about mailing the card. It was a weird feeling but a good one, yet it wasn't until I was writing in my journal about the experience that I fully grasped the truth of the situation.
The card was for my old friend, but it was also for me, maybe even more so! For a long time I have been struggling to reconcile my feelings of the past with the present. There are so many good and wonderful memories to be found in the history of this friendship, but there are also painful memories, sad and bittersweet. And of course, there is no longer the friendship that was once so precious and dear to me. The end of the friendship was not a clean break. I can produce several hypotheses for why the relationship ended, but they would only be my own speculations based on my own feelings and perceptions. As much as I believe in my own understanding, I am realistic enough to know that I can imagine intentions that may not exist, but all I have to work with is my own thoughts, since my attempts to discuss the problems have yielded no actual discussion. It is precisely this uncertainty that fans the flames of my turmoil. How should I feel about our history when someone that was once as close as a sister can so casually toss me aside?
The words that flowed from heart to paper were simply expressions of love for the friend that I once had and an understanding that our history together was important to me and in the shaping of who I am today. Even if I may at times wish to erase those memories, I cannot and would not. I can choose to look at those memories with fondness, perhaps a measure of sadness, too. Just as I would mourn the death of a friend, I mourn the death of this friendship. A physical death would cause me to hold the artifacts of friendship close to my heart. They would be pulled out from time to time, caressed and looked at with fondness, memories flooding my heart with sadness and joy. This friendship may no longer exist, but I can choose to view the artifacts of this relationship in the same manner.
I mailed the card. A response would be unexpected, and I know better than to expect one in any form. But it does not really matter. Mission accomplished! I have a new peace about this situation now, and it feels right.
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