Living Loving Breathing Boys

I have always been a city girl. So I thought… but it is probably simply because I did not know the joys of country living.

I love it.

I love our house. Though it is quite a bit smaller, it is so bright and cozy, you don’t notice. I am blogging to the sound of crickets. My windows are open and it just feels so relaxed.

Oh the homework, lunches and laundry are still very much here but I have found (in the last 2 days) I am more relaxed and FEEL peaceful. I am happy and content.

I love the fact that the kids are outside and safe. Zach just brought a frog to the window… I don’t think I ever saw him actually hold one yet!

Maybe this is what HOME feels like. I like it.

Yesterday, day two in the house I was blessed with 6 friends or so that came and helped make the house home so fast! The main floor and bedrooms are unpacked for the most part. I made supper and even did dishes… without feeling grumpy! (Now that may not last)!

So I give thanks, for the goodness of friends, family and community. I give God all the credit for HIS PLAN. I wouldn’t have felt like this in the houses that we did not get. Patience and trusting go hand in hand. WOW… He is so awesome! So God, I thank You and love you so much. May You live in this home

Did you ever notice that words like “move” and “pack” are 4 letter words??? Well there is a reason… eespecially when you are moving a family of 8!

We survived.

I don’t have much to say about the moving day except that I don’t EVER want to do that again!

We had a LONG day that reiterated that we have too much crap! I thought I purged well. Apparently not, judging by the basement.

Let the purging begin… Maybe we are pack rats and didn’t know it. I hate rodents. So here I go again till there is actually a basement to work with!

We were overwhelmed by love and support from our amazing friends. Food and childcare were in abundance that it made the packing bare-able.

All done!

I just can’t help but acknowledge this day. 9/11 … how much has changed since that day. I can’t help think of all the children that lost parents or all the children born without their dad.

I don’t have anything profound to say except that I remember. I feel that feeling of sadness when I think of the pain, panic and absolute fear. I feel sad thinking of the people that have such beliefs that justifies all the pain that came with this day.

Just remembering…

It is 5:30 a.m. and I am up! Ok I still feel kind of groggy… but not enough to fall back asleep~ I have been doing quite good with the whole getting up and trying to be organized in the morning bit. Can’t say I really like it, but I believe that you are either a morning person or not.

Only 4 more sleeps till we are asleep in our new house!!! I am so excited I can’t wait! I am feeling good about the move as far as packing and being ready. We are in good shape! Sanj’s is stressed out. He is worried that we are not going to be ready. Being a pessimist, this is OK, at least it (the worrying) is keeping him busy! 🙂

We have been showered by kindness from friends. Meals, baby-sitting or occupying Josh… it is the only way we are so sane at this point! So I am blessed! Deeply blessed.

I feel so cleansed with all the purging that I have been able to do. I literally put away 20 loads of laundry yesterday. This kind of had me in a mood … as you know my love affair with laundry. Yet maybe that will change when I get my front loader! Yes I know…. everyone has one.. and I know how much you can fit in and save.. but our machine has not died… so I couldn’t justify buying a new washer… till now. Sanj gets the riding mower (although he says it is for me… we know better…) and I get the washer!

Ok I am just writing to write! I hope that each of you have a great day! Now it is only 5:42 a.m. Oh the possibilities. I am going to crawl back to bed for just a bit.

Our house is in a very discombobulated state. I am SO ready to be moved and out of here. I am getting in a bad mood just simply because enough is enough.

My poor sons are at a loss for what to do. Toys are gone, TVs are down and game stations are put away. So they amuse themselves in loud ways … which means 3-4 tease 1 of the other brothers. This is followed by screaming of “Mommy… he…..”

I went to the dollar store and bought a few nerf guns to occupy them. Hum… they found their own version of the game.
A ladder, a younger brother who is silly enough to provide his “most prized body part” as target practice….

Awww….. laughter.

Boys are so weird. Just a girl’s perspective. Good thing they are so lovable.

I am saying goodbye to the 30s soon. I am looking forward to this next decade with anticipation. The 30s for me was about discovery usually by trial and error. I often lost myself in the midst of motherhood and being wife. Time for myself was a rarity.

I found myself and defining where I belong in the extended family… whether it was with my family or Sanj’s. It was a time to discover new friendships, and see which older friendships stood the test of time. I learn to define what a friend is to me. I learned to release people that did not make me a better person or that took me down a path I did not want to go.

It was about making discoveries about myself such as who I really am and can be. It was about learning that I like people and working together toward a great cause.

It was about learning to become a leader (something I never have been before) rather than a follower. I learned to make things that were important happen rather than wondering if they would happen.

I learned it is OK to be really happy and really sad. It is OK to feel disappointment deep in the core of you. It is OK to be me. Me… whatever all that entails the good, bad and ugly.

I learned that “talents” are things like the ability to really love, to accept, to be positive. To be real, to be open and inviting. To be giving and hospitable and forgive.

I learned that I am weird, corky even maybe eccentric. But that is OK. I find normal kind of boring. But than maybe that is just an excuse to make myself feel better … that I am not the norm.

I think that my six sons were all part of an amazing plan. Part of being different… standing out in a crowd. They were given to me as a gift. A gift that I will spend the rest of my life unwrapping wonderful little surprises each of them will bring into my life.

My husband was my special blessing. Life would not be as wonderful, crazy and full if he was not my partner in this crazy journey we are on together.

The biggest discovery of my 30s is that I am loved. Not just a bit… but oozing over with all different kinds of love. I feel it when I am with my friends, my family and my sons, my husband and mostly by God.

After spending so much of my early years feeling unloved… my cup is overflowing with love. I feel it… as I breathe. It fills my soul. It grounds me and makes me want to pass it on. Love. There is nothing like it… feeling you are loved, knowing you are loved. It really is the one thing in life that is priceless.

You can’t make people love you. It is a gift. So as I greet the next 40 years with hope, dreams and excitement… I am grateful for the last 40 years. For all I have learned, grown from and become.

Thank you for all that love me. You have made my life rich in a way that no one else can. You are loved dearly.

Here I come 40!!!

Yesterday I spent part of the day with my dad. To be honest, the night before, I didn’t want to go. I was feeling that I was wasting time. I have so much to do and did not feel the need to drive to Oshawa and be uncomfortable.

I went. I did not want to “hurt” my dad’s feelings. Talk about irony. It was fine. I am fine.

I realized that almost 40 years has gone by and I am fine. No expectations. God has been so good to me. I have peace where there is no understanding. I have acceptance of this person as he is. It was just doing errands with my dad and Josh, having lunch and then talk to you later.

As I drove away, I was waiting for emotions to flood me and to feel unsettled. I was a little lost at the lack of emotional drama.
I was a little lost at the nothingness I felt. I felt OK.

I went because I felt like it was the right thing to do. I felt sad at the consequences of my father’s life. Loneliness is a bitch of a punishment.

My dad seems nostalgic… mentioning my fast approaching 40th birthday… and said something about how time goes by so fast.

Does he have regrets? It would seem so. Does he verbalize them… not yet. Maybe these regrets will keep him company in his grave.

I am not holding my breathe for a miracle…

Yet I am content with where I am emotionally. It is a long way from one year ago. How blessed I feel for this gift. Acceptance.
Accepting what he can give me and not seeking what isn’t. Peace… am I at peace? Maybe or close to it. Wow.

Today Zachary started grade one! Big day for a big boy!

Josh and I have continued our bosom buddies relationship…

The rest of the boys are old pros… ready to check out the new classroom and new teachers.

All in all a good day!

There is nothing more annoying than life throwing you a curve and your mother is looking at it as a photo op.

It is such a simple song… ” Jesus loves this I know… little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong…. Yes Jesus loves me… the Bible tells me so.” Rather than the Bible tells me so… I would say Jesus shows me so… over and over.

I have been such a believer in miracles. I love a great answer to prayer story. I love it even better when it is one of my prayers that are answered. I am not obnoxious to think that only my prayer gets the miracles to happen but I sure feels good to see the Hand of God in action.

Unfair is a blog I wrote a few day ago. Just a few days ago, I was asking God for a miracle. For Him to make a way to allow this family to be at Rhema. I was at the park with some of the boys yesterday, when my cell rang. It was the mom…. telling me that the school called… there was someone that was going to cover the balance of the bill, whatever the family couldn’t pay.

I was blown away. Actually I am still blown away. How huge is that? How wonderfully generous. How fabulous of God to answer in such an awesome way?

There has been so many changes this year that this little gift was just what I needed. Rhema is still Rhema in the ways that are so important to me. We are a community that embraces each other and it is what makes this place so special. The core is still there.

Jesus loves me. He shows me in so many little ways that I often miss them. Yet here it is … in a BIG amazing answer to pray…. to many that prayed. Here is a family that has to now know, if they didn’t before, that they matter, to our community and more so God. So neat, so amazing, I love it.

In so many ways, I am still a child. I feel vulnerable and lost so often. I am lonely and scared some of the time. I wonder and think of all the what if’s … in my life. Yet I know … really deep down know… Jesus loves me. Why do I ever question it? Because I am just like my kids, sulky when they don’t get their way.

Yet I know that my Parent has my best interest. I need to simply trust. I need to listen and hear. I need to believe. He has it all under control. I just need to let Him love me.

It is such a journey. Why it takes me so long to learn… I don’t know. But I am learning. It IS so simple if I allow it.

This Labour Day weekend has been beautiful! The weather is absolutely perfect! After a summer of rain and more rain, it is a great way to say goodbye to summer. We don’t have too much of an agenda except to fit a bit of packing and for Sanj studing… (yuck).

Most families go on picnics or something of that sort. Our family’s day of fun involved a golf course… golfers and golfers-in-training a golf cart and we are off!

It was a great day! These pictures say it all…

This is the view of Josh I see most! The boy has no fear. He loves taking off and going … going… goodbye!

He doesn’t care if he sees me or not. He is so confident or reckless.

His famous line is ” Ha ha boo boo, you can’t catch me!”

What is a friend? Sanj and I have been having this discussion of who our friends are and what makes a friend?
For me the definition is simple. Someone that I enjoy being with, that reciprocates in our friendship and that feeds me in some way or another. This allows for a broad range of different types of friendships.

I am not sure if everyone feels the same way I do. Do people have deep meaningful friendships? Friendships that have stood the test of time and grown over that time? I am blessed with some friends like that. It is something I thought everyone has but am realizing that isn’t necessarily true.

Then I look at men… I know some men that have those close friendships. But many don’t. Why not? Why is it so easy to talk about football or how the Leafs aren’t doing… to talk about work or even have some philosophical conversations but yet stay clear of deep meaningful things? Things that bind a friendship.

As wives my friends and I are forever planning to go out, planning for our husbands to go out… why?
Maybe the men don’t want or need it. I don’t know.

Sanj is a melancholy 100%. Of course he can be very outgoing when he chooses to. But he loves being mellow. He plays or listens to what I call sad depressing music. He enjoys being alone, fishing or golfing whatever. He does not mind being alone.

But he does not have people in his life that feed his soul. (of course myself excluded, I assume). He has had very good friends of past, yet those have not been nurtured in years and so they are friends of yesteryear… friends forever but not friends that do much for him now and vise versa.

So what to do? Is it the need to be vulnerable? Be real 100%? Most of us are scared to do that. Why is it so hard for some people to find that special friend that feeds their soul?

I have said this before… I really want that for my sons. What changes from having buddies that they grow up with to being grown men finding it hard to connect with another?

Society, I believe is to blame, to some degree. There is so much pressure to be success and “have it all” that maybe feels suffocating to admit that one does not have it all. But really by whose standards?

My poor husband is having hair issues. The loss of some of his hair. I do feel for him… it sucks. But it has no bearing on me. I love him. Hair or not. (Now teeth… if he loses those, that will be another issue)!

Anyways Sanj came back from a haircut and said, “I wish I wasn’t losing my hair.” I repeated this to our hairdresser the next week, while I was in.

Helena’s response was…”What is wrong with the man? He has it all. A beautiful wife (thanks Helena), beautiful children, a home, a good business, he is a handsome man, a good man… And he is complaining about HAIR?”

Who really has it all? I guess that is another whole blog on its own. I was making the point that once you are vulnerable it opens up so much… it gives someone else confidence to share too.

This is a key in a relationship. In a friendship… to have a real open honest friendship… you have to give that person your vulnerability.

It is a chance. It is a risk. But 9/10 I am sure it is worth it. We were made to have good fulfilling people in our hearts to keep us growing.

Even one real good friend is worth 100 of the “hi how’s it going?” kind. But the key I believe to finding that friend is becoming that friend.

You must want it bad enough to be wiling to let yourself hang out a bit. People are willing to hang there laundry for all to see… why not yourself. At some point it will be worth it.

Yesterday I was at the mall getting haircuts for the boys… a task that is ranked on the bottom of my list, right above laundry.
Their hair was not that bad, but I really wanted them to have a nice crisp look for the first day of school. They all hate haircuts as much as I do. So there was the usual rumblings.

Sammy really did not want to get his cut. “Just my sideburns, then,” was his reply, when I said they look messy. For a moment, I considered. But it would probably be the full price and more importantly, I did not give the other boys the option either.

As each child got their cut, Sammy started to get more defiant. “You can’t make me!” was the reply, with shoulders back, jaw tightened and face full of anger. It was two of us, head to head, bumping our horns… what now?

I am in the middle of the hair salon, wondering what my response to my 13 year old should be? “You can’t make me!”
What ugly words and more so, what hurtful words.

I can’t even imagine what the consequences would have been if I was ever stupid enough to say that to my mom or dad.

I looked at my son, who is for the most part such a loving child, and wondered did he really think that was a smart response?

I had a lot of responses rushing thru me, one being to throw him across my knee and give him the butt whooping he needed at the moment to know never ever to speak to me that way… but I looked at him and walked away… for the moment. If we were at home, it would be different. But we are in the midst of a lot of people.

As I walked away, I wondered what a “smart parent” would do?

Then Sanj walked in, (coming to have lunch with us on his break). A God Thing! I filled Sanj in, he walks over to Sammy (and basically said don’t be ridiculous and don’t speak to your mom that way… 15 seconds. It was over.

Sammy walked over, defeated for now. His hair was cut and attitude adjusted for now.

Oh boy… I can see the next few years are going to be a barrel of laughs and serious struggle of wills.

This week when we went to the Back to School bbq there were rumblings of some families that are not coming back. One in particular has broken my heart. Some families choose not to come back for reasons that are their own. They are lucky. The families that have to leave due to finances break my heart.

The Smith family (not their real name) is a family that needs to be a Rhema. Their circumstance is dysfunctional in a weird way.

Their grandpa is the one that has been paying the bill for Rhema. Every year he waits till the very last week to say yes or no.

This time it was a no. It came with a lot of meanness. The boy is in Tyler’s class. He still does not believe that his grandpa won’t change his mind. Tyler has lost 3 of his closest friends this summer to other schools. One to Lakefield, and 2 who had money issues.

So I am praying that God will work a miracle. Touch the grandpa’s heart. This isn’t about the parents. This is about what these kids need. About a family that needs to feel the love that is there.

Sanj and I have been racking our brains. If I had the money… boom it wouldn’t be an issue. If I could find 4 more families willing to pay $2000 boom it would be done.

I am working this all out in my brain. I hate that money is such a life factor. I hate the unfairness of it all. I hate the stress and power money has.

We had people, very generous people often help us with our schooling. I never really knew till I was older. How embarrassing yet how generous.

I just need to figure this out. Please God help us figure this one out. Yet if it what Your will, then please our Your comfort and strength over them. Help these kids to adjust.

I need to play the lotto!

I am a water snob. I hate tap water, but can handle it with ice or if it was refrigerated. I prefer bottled water… but dislike no name brands. Actually I really prefer Dansani or Aqaufina and Culligan’s water.

I am not sure why I am like this. I hate the taste of our city tap water. Unfortunately, my kids have developed a similar attitude. If the water cooler is empty, they will not drink. They will come and complain about nothing to drink.

When we lived in Ohio, we lived on the outskirts of the city. So we must have had well water. It stunk. None of us drank it.
In the States they sell milk in the gallon milk jugs. My dad started to collect them. He would wash them out and save them.
We had a big van and he would fill the van with the jugs.

He went to our school on a sunday and asked the janitor if we could fill up some water. Well I am sure the poor guy thought this was a one time think, so said sure. Well then sundays we would go to the school and fill up the water jugs. I am not exaggerating when I say at 60- 100.

It is crazy… stealing water. I always think of this when I see a milk jug. I think this had a profound effect on my attitude towards water.

Now I am a water snob.

My life for the most part is peaceful. Not quiet (ever)… but peaceful is good. I know that issues, whether money or relationships or whatever issues that come our way, that we will deal with them together. I have avoided having people that cause conflict or emotional unrest in my life.

But that doesn’t seem to work with my family. When I say family, I mean my parents and crazy brother seem to find a way to constantly discombobulate me. Last night I got an email from Rajiv (my middle brother), saying my dad is in town, and since my brother is working in Peterborough the week, he could drop off my dad for the day.

The day? That is a long time. My dad and I don’t talk. You can only talk about small stuff for a bit of time. Then what? He really is an odd man. I am realizing that his sperm is the only thing that connects us. Yet, he asked to see me.

This is part of my character that I hate many times… that pull to do the right thing, despite the consequences to myself.
It would be rude to say that I really don’t want to see him. Yet I don’t think I can do a whole day.

So, to avoid a confrontation with my brother (the one I am not speaking to), I have thought to go to Oshawa and met my dad for lunch there. What will come out of this? More than likely, more confusion. But hopefully nothing. I think that I am emotional done. Not mad, not glad, just done.

This is about my dad and me. Not my kids. I am sure he thinks that they will be there. But thankfully they have school. He lost the right to be their grandparent a very long time ago. Actually he literally threw that right out the door. A choice he made.

Last time when he was here, he met them. Awkward. The older kids were polite but didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t talk very much to them. My youngest two were fine. They were themselves. Too young to understand the moment.

Why now? Why not when I cared or yearned for it? This is all 13 years too late. Unless he says sorry. Yet I know not to hold my breathe. This time I have no expectations rather simply feel a since of obligation.

Being with him is a bit scary. I am not sure what that fear is of… except maybe a fear of that uncomfortable silence that is so huge in his presence.

Whatever. I feel better having made the decision to go. I wish the drama would end somehow. For the past 10 or so years his silence and absence was easier to take than what feels now like scratches that mice make in a wall. You know that horrid sound. I can’t even stay in the same room as the scratching. I am so freaked out if it is going to make its way in my room or end up nibbling on me… erk!

This crazy analogy is the same with my dad. I am sure this “visit” is going to be the same as all the others. I leave with emptiness. But I suppose that there is always that teeny weeny chance that he may say he loves me. Or just sorry. Or something that will heal the lifelong wound.

But as I said, no expectations but rather simply fulfilling a sense of obligation. Funny, how much my dad can hurt me over and over, yet I hate the thought of hurting him, by saying no, I don’t want to see you.

Discombobulation. My life is feeling in a state of discombobulated. The move has my house upside down and crazy. School starts, routine and classes… all something to get used to again. It is a perfect time for family to add discombobulation to my life.

Can you tell I like the word… discombobulate?

At the start of each school year, there are so many decisions that must be made before school starts. I can’t even begin to fathom all of them. But two that affect my children are staffing decisions and classrooms… how they will be divided.

It is often a frustrating process, for parents and teachers alike, eager to know what has been decided, And yet those making the decisions must wait to see what enrollment is, which significantly impact these decisions made.

This year Jordan is in a split class. He, along with 8 or so other students will be in a 5/6 split. Grade 6 has only 14 or something students. While I think that Jordan will benefit from being in a class with older students, he is sad about being away from his class. I am sad he will not have Mrs. O, a teacher, a great teacher and an experience all in itself.

While there are so many concerns, I also know that administration is doing the best they can with all the circumstances.

It is so easy to judge and be frustrated with the decision process. Yet I know that the big picture is one we can not see as parents unless we are there making the decisions. Of course we are looking out for our own. But maybe we need to pause and appreciate all those looking at the best interest of all our children.

Griping and complaining gets us nowhere. I know that Jordan will react of my emotions. It is all good. We will make it a good year.

I appreciate so much all those that are part of what makes our school so special. Becoming involved is a great way to know what is happening and be able to see what makes Rhema different.

As I went in to the school early this week to take care of some stuff, I was hit with a weird sensation. This year is our 10th year at Rhema. Sammy will be graduating from grade 8 this year. I had some heart palpation happening. My oldest son, yet a baby all the same. He was the one to teach me the first of everything. He was the reason I walked into Rhema unannounced one day and I loved what I saw.

This year will be about a bunch of last times for Sammy. I loved that all the boys were under one roof all day. High school… it is kind of a ugly word, kind of a scary word. It brings to mind gawkiness, girls and zits. OK I am not even going to go there, yet.

8th grade. I remember my 8th grade graduation. I remember my dress and that was the occasion for my first pair of heels… wedge heels. I feel teary already.

I want this year to be wonderful for Sammy. He has great teachers. I want him to feel good and have a great last year at Rhema, a great last year of being in elementary school. I am not sure I am ready for this.

Welcome to the 8th grade, Sammy! May it be awesome.

The Wednesday before school starts every year, our school has a Back to School BBQ. It is time to meet the teachers and check out your classrooms before school starts.

We went to the BBQ and I suddenly felt very happy to be back. My children were happy to see their friends and I was happy to see mine. I didn’t realize how much I missed them and the environment that Rhema has. I love it. It felt so good to be “home” again.

I didn’t realize how much my friends feed my soul.

I was missing them more than I realized. I love Rhema, the boys school. It is a special place. It feeds me and makes ME grow not too mention what it brings to my children’s lives.

This year was a bit sad. We lost some families from our school, including our principal, Mr. Hendricks. He has been there 23 years and as much as it is his time to move on, he will be missed greatly. Under his leadership I grew so much. I found passions I didn’t even know I had. I appreciate so much his confidence in me to try new things and learn so much!

Ray, we will miss you. Thank you for all you are, as a principal, teacher, friend. You are a special gift from God.

To my other friends that have gone … for different reasons, may God bless you as you seek what is best for you and your family.

So it begins… the routine, homework, schedules. I am not ready just yet… but bring it on!