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Friday, August 21, 2015

The Daily Chai Fucks Up Veronica

Today's chai was great. My girl asked me why I was such a cute little monkey today and looked at me like she couldn't quite pin point what was wrong with me. I replied that I wasn't wearing heels and was therefore three inches shorter than normal which obviously takes me from statuesque goddess to adorable monkey in one quick shoe change.

So on the way to get Anna for daycare, I reared-ended a pickup truck. Good times. I'm okay, not injured in anyway except a headache and sore neck. Veroncia, on the other hand, is fucked up. My poor baby, my new car, my dream car is all smashed up. The HILARIOUS thing about this lovely incident is I knew if I got a new car, I would get into an accident within a month. I told people I was actually worried about getting a new car because I would probably smash it up the first chance I got just because it's new and beautiful and shiny and I love it. It's just, like, fate. Not that I believe in that happy horseshit.  But how many people do you know have ended up in the same predicament after buying a new car? Why couldn't this have happened when I was driving my crappy 2003 Golf that I didn't give a crap about?

I will tell you why. God is jealous when you love immaterial things. Thou shalt not worship any idol before me. Or something like that. And worship her I do. Oops.

I'm kidding. This was just a crappy, crappy accident that happened and I now have to deal with the consequences. A tiny little part of me kind of feels like it serves me right for loving my car so much because it's just a thing. It means nothing what kind of car you drive. Except...we all love our cars and so many people identify their personalities with the type of car they drive. Shallow people, granted, but it's still true. And I'm pretty shallow. So you know, balls. I was so excited that I was able to buy this car and that I found the exact one that I've dreamed of having for years. Did I ever tell you I bought a model replica kit of a red Beetle when I was a teenager? I still have it somewhere. I have bored people to death for the last six weeks about how much I love my car. I am, quite frankly, completely and totally bummed about this turn of events.

But I keep coming back to this: It's just a thing. It's not my heart or my soul, it's not my child, it's not one of my people. It's a car. It can be fixed. In a few weeks, you will never even know this happened. I'm sure I will have some fun times sorting this shit out, but it'll get done. I'll take care of business because it's what I do. It's what we all have to do when these things happen. Time to put my big girl panties on and do some adulting.

A special thank you to you-know-who-you-are for dropping everything and coming to wait with me while I talked to the cops. You have my undying gratitude for being there for me in my hour of FML, what have I done? And to everyone who wrote back, "First, are you ok? And second, WTF, omg your poor baby," I know you get me and I love you too.

And yes, one of the things I thought as I waited for the cops to show was, at least I have something to write about tonight.


Thursday, August 20, 2015

The Daily Chai Had a Couplea Drinks

Today's chai was delicious. Hot and spicy. It's like crack to me and I may need an intervention at some point, but for now, I continue my addiction and really, would you want me to stop? After all (and I'm aware I've said this before) what would I write about? My daily Diet Dr. Pepper? Doesn't have the same ring, does it?

Went out with a couple friends tonight to a local pub and had the saltiest, pepperiest poutine of my life. I ate it with great gusto, but I wasn't very happy about it. And the bacon I added...pfft. Fuck you limp, undercooked bacon that I barely knew was there. I am bitter about the bacon. It should have overthrown and conquered the poutine, but it did not. Pet peeve number 486.

I have a confession to make. Actually, I probably have several confessions to make but I'll keep those to myself. My confession that I want to confess at this moment in time is that I'm stuck. I can't move forward and can't go back and I don't know what to do about it. I am a woman of action though and I can't just wait around for life to happen to me, I want to make things happen, I want to be the doer of things, the seeker of adventure and the catastrophe of life. Even if it's a bad idea, it's bound to be a good time, so who fucking cares, right? Except one day you find yourself in a situation that you don't know how to solve because your brain is telling you one thing and your heart is screaming in another direction as fast as it can go. People keep telling me to protect my heart, but apparently that is something I am just not capable of doing. I don't understand being reserved, I don't know how to play it cool, I don't understand the games, I just am what you see, what I present to you is the sum of everything I am. I am many, many things, but the one thing I am not, is a mystery. I do not know how to build my wall. I've tried, you see, and it just isn't me, so screw it.

I don't know if this is a bad thing or not. It seems to charm the pants off some people and scare the shit out of others. Perhaps what I need to do is charm the pants of someone and not worry about the rest because hey, pants off and we're all having a good time. Might still be a bad idea, but again, who fucking cares? We have one life to live guys, are you going sit here wishing you'd done something or are you going to at least try? I'd rather try and fail, experience the good and bad, than not try at all and always, always wonder what might have happened if only I'd just been brave enough to take a chance. We're all going to fall at some point, but it's how we go down that's the funniest part, we all know that. We grew up with America's Funniest Home Videos after all. So we try and we fall and we bounce back up and try again with the faith that at some point, it's just going to work out in our favour. At some point, it just has to, the odds tell us that, right? And, besides, what a great fucking story it all is to tell one day!

You can take that anyway you please. I'm applying it to many situations, my own and others to which I am only an outside observer. What the fuck do I know anyway?

Love ya!

Monday, August 17, 2015

The Daily Chai Solves the Mystery of the Tall Boy

Today's chai was tasty. That's about all I can say about it.

My ex took the dog while I was away this weekend and he (the dog, not the ex) behaved quite poorly so unfortunately, he will not be spending anymore time there, which sucks for Kate. When I went to pick him up Sunday, Anna  came out and wanted to come home with me. She started to cry and it was really quite gut-wrenching to be honest. She misses Kate, who is at a friend's cottage this week (having the time of her life, I might add) and she misses me. I cuddled her on the front porch while the ex went to get the dog and told her that she must be having a good time with daddy and that it was his time with her, but weren't we lucky to have a little surprise visit and how was her weekend. My lame attempts to distract her only went so far and we had a tearful (on her part) farewell. Surprisingly, I held up okay considering that three months ago that encounter would have sent me into a tail-spin of guilt and tears and probably heavy drinking.

Ah, but you see, I had a plan. The brilliant strategist strikes again as I texted her dad to suggest she spend a night with me this week like they did with him last week. He agreed and dropped her off today. We had a fabulous night of mall sushi, a visit with a friend, a bath (in which she invited me, but I politely declined) and some rocking Full House. She is currently sleeping like a champ in the middle of my bed and the AC is on full blasty blast so I don't sweat to death in the night when I go upstairs to join her. She feels special because I'm letting her sleep there because it's just us.

That all being said, she is exhausting to be around. She talks more than her mother. To all my friends, I apologize for how exhausting I am to be around. Profusely.

From the time we got in the car until we went to bed, this is just a small example of the things she said to me as I drove:

Mummy, turn up the music. I like this song [after I turn it up, she invariably has something to say, so I then have to turn it down]:

Mummy, are you still friends with M?

Yes, I am, but I haven't talked to him for awhile. Why?

He's tall right? I want to see him again.

Why? He scared you and made you cry because he was so big. Then you made friends, but you have literally not mentioned him since then without telling me he scared you and that you don't like him.

Oh. Yeah. I'm not talking about M. I mean the other tall one. You know, he had a white car. He was nice. You know? What's his name?

[My mind is literally blank. Which one of my guy friends has Anna ever seen in a car? I only know of one that drives a white vehicle and I'm positive she's ever seen him in it.]

I'm really not sure honey. I have lots of boys in my life that are friends. Are you talking about J? [which is silly to suggest because she has never met that person, I've just talked about him, but like I said, my mind was blank].

Yes! Mummy, that's him. He was nice, I liked him. Are you still friends? I want to see him again.

Uh, I just realized that I don't think you met him before. So it can't be him. Sorry.

Mummy. Just start naming people. I will remember if you say his name.

[All I can think is she's talking about our recent visit to my office to see a few work friends and have lunch with the bestie, so I start naming people from work.]

Um. D? A? uhhhh M?

NO. Mummy NOOOOOO. [aaaaaand the misunderstood, frustrated four year old emerges] Mum. He had a white car. He was tall. He lifted me up in the air and bumped my head on the ceiling because he was so tall. [She is close to tears now with having to deal with her mind-numbingly stupid mother.]

Ohhhhhhhh, you're talking about P! Yes, what about him?

Are you still friends?

Yes, very much so.

Can we see him again? I miss him.

I miss him too. But, he lives almost as far away as Zoe, so we won't see him for a while, but I promise when he comes for his next visit, we will see him, how's that?

Why does he live far away? And there is no way he lives as far as Zoe. We had to take a plane to see her. He had a white car, not a plane.

That was a rental. He was just here to visit. He really does live far away. We would have to take a plane to visit him too.

No way! Really? Awwww, that sucks. What's a rental?

Yes, it does. A rental is when someone is visiting and they rent a car to drive around because their own car is far away.

Oh. Mummy, turn up the music please. I quite like this song. It's my jam. [And yes, she used the words 'quite' and 'jam'.]

I would tell you more about these and other enlightening conversations, but I'm exhausted just typing out that small part. Good night!


Friday, August 14, 2015

The Daily Chai's Got Nothing

Today's chai...I'm not going to lie. It was fucking fabulous. 'Nuff said.

I have nothing tonight folks. No words of wisdom, no funny kid stories. I have literally been sitting here staring at my screen for an hour. Instead, I've been madly texting a pal about her boy problems and mine. Seriously, boys are trouble!

I ate a lot of cheese tonight and I have some regrets. How's that for literary gems?

I'm going away this weekend to my bestie's cottage and I'm so happy. It's been too long and we have some good reasons to celebrate! I might just be buying this little, old house in which I currently sit, but I don't have much more detail than that to give right now. I will tell you that as excited as I am, I'm also terrified. I've never done this on my own and I feel kind of lioness, roary about it. But so scary. What if I screw it all up? Anyway, more about it later, when I know more and the plan is set in motion.

Anyway, I'm sorry, but I was serious when I said I had nothing to say. I'll take some drunk notes this weekend and let y'all know how my weekend was instead!

Enjoy life. Live. Breathe. Eat cheese. Maybe get a tattoo. It's all good


Wednesday, August 12, 2015

The Daily Chai Talks Kindness

Today's chai was boring. Sorry.

I was talking to a buddy tonight and I'm not going to get into his story here because it isn't my story to tell, but let's just say he is going through divorce and his ex is putting him through hell and using the kids to get at him. All I have to say is WHAT. THE. FUCK??

Now, I get that often, divorce is ugly and divorce is mean, but I don't understand why it has to be. I don't want to be buddies with my ex, I don't want to hang out with him on Taco Tuesday, but I don't want to ruin his life. I just don't want to be married to him anymore. Let him go on his way and we will co-parent our kids as best we can, but basically, have a nice life and be happy. I'm certainly trying to be!

Which brings me to my point. I'm a true believer in being kind. Not just to small animals in traps either, I mean to everyone. Yes, I'm judgy and bitchy and I say nasty things. I'm not a saint. But I generally try live my life by being kind to others. There are a thousand ways you can make someone else's day that cost you nothing and might actually brighten your day, too. What does being nasty do? Does it make these people feel good inside knowing they just decimated someone's world? I don't get it. Human beings are so incredibly hard on each other and so often very cruel. But a smile for a stranger, holding a door, offering to help carry something, sending a text to say you're thinking of someone, these little things cost us nothing, not even a lot of time.

So once again, the Daily Chai brings you a challenge. Be kind. Consciously think of ways you can make someone else's day better. Reach out to that friend who is going through a hard time. Give a stranger a genuine compliment. Buy a coffee for the next person. And don't give me this happy horsehshit about Random Act of Kindness Day. It's not enough to think about this on one day of the year. You need to do this as a life commitment. Stop being a bitch and making other people miserable, and just be nice for crying out loud!

Love ya!

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

The Daily Chai is a Brilliant Strategist

Random funny moose picture
Today's chai was lovely. I love the sweet ladies that serve me each morning, they truly brighten my day. I'm not sure if I even like chai lattes anymore or if I go just to see them. OMG I did not just type that. Of course I still like chai lattes!

I had a cold shower this morning. It was not awesome, but the water heater guy's been here and fixed some sensor and I have glorious hot water again. I'm very excited about the morning.

And yes, that is pretty much how exciting my life is at the moment. 

Kate was missing her dad a lot today. She Facetimed him and came down all teary-eyed and red-faced and asked if he could come over for a visit. Fuck no. I mean, uh, I don't think that would be such a great idea. 

"Why not? Because you don't like him?"

Oh Jesus. Do I have to keep telling my kids that I love their dad and I will always love their dad, but I just don't want to be buddies with him and hang out on Tuesday night when, by rights, Tuesday belongs to tacos and TV? I don't want to be mean to my kid and I want what's best for both of them, but I seriously doubt watching their parents awkwardly hang out together on a Tuesday night is going to make either of them feel any better about life. And honestly, it's not that he is not welcome in my home, but I'm not exactly welcome in his, so why should I capitulate and invite him here? 

However, and this is where I've become a brilliant strategist, I suggested to my ex that he take the girls overnight tomorrow night and I will take them the next Wednesday he has them, to break up this long, long week that we don't get to see the kids. He agreed. Ta-da! Megan saves the day and decides she could possibly win wars with her tactics. Kate was thrilled and excited with this solution and no longer sad and crying about missing daddy. Wins all around. 

Later, I was watching TV with Kate before bed (The Full House marathon continues) and when it was over I said, "Give me a hug and no, you may not sleep in my bed."

"I wasn't going to ask....okay yeah, can I sleep here? Please?" but she was laughing, the little minx. 

"No, you may not, but I love you. Go to bed."

"Ahhhh okay," with sigh of contentment as she snuggled closer, "But this hug is going to last until morning."


Monday, August 10, 2015

The Daily Chai is Back in the Thick of Things

Today's chai was actually perfect. Serious bliss.

This week is going to be insane. Anna is still in daycare in my old town, about 20 minutes away, then I have to take Kate to her day camp, which is 30 minutes from there and then I need to get my ass to work, which is about 15 minutes from day camp. It's a long morning before the work day even begins. I dread the school year because it's so busy, but I'm actually looking forward to the kids being at the same school and getting on the same bus!

I never told you about our reunion on Friday. The girls and I were so happy to see each other, we just sat on the floor talking. Anna was in my lap, absent-minded stroking my arms and Kate was feeling my legs and commenting on how smooth they were. Good thing I shaved that morning. There is something about cuddling and touch among children and mother that never really goes away after babyhood and I love that my girls are so affectionate. Sometimes is seems a little weird to be touched so frankly and without reservation, hesitation or question. Sometimes I feel like a piece of furniture that they give no thought to, but on Friday, I knew they were touching me almost out of reverence to be with their mother again and I gotta say, it felt damn good to be loved like that.

We talked about their new house with their dad and about what they did last week and they asked me what I'd been doing and it was just nice to talk, like we were friends. As much as I am a full-out mother, all teaching manners and discipline and making sure they are clean and fed and safe, Kate is turning into a little friend that I confide in and I know she feels the same about me. I hope this lasts!

I took them to their new school so they could check out the playground and they were thrilled. It's just far enough away that we had to drive because lord knows Anna would never manage to walk there and back without whinging to be carried. After we played on the play set for a bit, we wandered down the pathway to see what we could see. We found a grasshopper and held his wriggling body for a minute before he jumped away and then Anna decided to tell me how much she loved me.

"I love you all the way to Heaven and the all the way to the sky. And I love you this much," as she spread her arms wide.

"I love you to the moon and back," I said and the look of astonishment on her face made me laugh out loud.

"I love you...all the way to Waterloo. And Disneyland," she said after some thought. I wonder how many conversations like these happen because of that book?

Later, back at the play set, we were all horsing around and just to be an ass, I whacked Kate's butt, because she hates it. She gets absolutely outraged and yells, "Mooooo-ooooom!" And then she starts whacking me back. This time I just laughed at her and told her to try harder because she wasn't hurting me a bit so it became a game of how hard they could whack my butt and each other's butts. Good times. Of course, it ended in tragedy when Anna wound up to give Kate a really good one and she missed, spun around and ended up in the gravel. This tumble resulted in a big, but superficial scrape on her thigh and a deeper scrape on her elbow, which promptly began to bleed. Which, of course, promptly produced angry tears of pain from Anna. She was bleeding enough that we needed to go home to wash it out and put a bandage on it and she wailed, "But I can't go in the car, I'll get blood everywhere!" I'm glad that kid has her priorities straight about her mom's new car!  I assured it was not bleeding that much and we could certainly risk the five minute drive home as long as she held her arm up, which she dutifully did.

As I buckled her in, I said, "Well, that will teach you to whack my butt, kiddo." She looked at me with great, tragic tears in her eyes and wailed, "I wasn't trying to whack you, I was trying to whack Kate." Well, okay then. Keep doing that because it turned out well. And Kate was trying not to snicker in the back seat beside her crying sister.

When we got home, Anna was still crying and she got out of the car and said, "I hate being outside. I wish there was carpet out here so I wouldn't hurt myself when I fall," and then, as she stomped up the stairs of the porch, she turned around and yelled with great defiance to the world at large, "AND I'D RATHER NOT GET A SLIVER!"

Okay.... since there were no slivers involved in this incident, I can only assume the sliver she got five weeks ago at daycare has, indeed, traumatized her for life.


Sunday, August 09, 2015

The Daily Chai Misses You!

Today's chai was non-existent, but Friday's, when I finally got it, was fabulous. It was so good I almost didn't even need to drink it, I just held it and smelled its lovely, spicy scent. Oh, how I miss my chai when I don't get that daily infusion!

I've spent a lot of time missing things lately. People, places, objects. I dream of Germany and her mountains, her rolling hills, her lush, flowered-filled gardens. The orchards blooming in the spring, the fruit growing in the fields in the summer and the people, those friends I made and whom I still love deeply. I miss my dad and talking with him over a burger and coke on a patio in the sun. Even in our complicated and often strained relationship, we talked about so many things together. I miss my brother, even though we can barely stand each other, I miss his face. I try to picture him in his foreign, tropical paradise that also sounds like the craziest place on Earth and wonder if I will get a chance to visit him there. I miss my niece and her family that has become my family, that welcomed me with open arms and made me part of their clan. I miss friends that I don't see enough. I miss their laughter and their stories, I miss holding them and telling them to their faces that I love them. I miss my dear girls when they are away on their weekly sojourn with their dad and I miss every experience they have that I am not having with them. I miss human contact and love and affection from a partner that loves me back.

Sometimes I miss all those things so much, I feel as though my heart will burst with longing and sadness. It's crushing to think I may never see those places again or hold those people again. In some cases, I know my last moment with them has passed and they are only a memory to me now. Some I fear I will never see again and some I know I will be lucky enough to be in their presence once more. But life is so unpredictable, you never know when these things will happen. So you miss them and you wait. And you hope and you dream and you plan.

And then, and I realize fully just how cheesy this is going to sound, I realize that I am truly a lucky person to have such strong feelings about anything that I miss it that much. To even miss one thing with such passion that you lie awake at night wishing you could experience it just one more time, all that means is that I have been given a gift. I have felt passion and I have lost passion, I have seen it slip away from me, I have let it trail through my fingertips and wash away. I have tried to hold on and force it to stay and I have been disappointed when it left anyway. And yet, it comes back to me in another form, reminding me that no matter what I have lost, no matter the heartache or disappointment, it is always inside me to feel that way again. My internal, eternal optimist serves me well in that regard, because even in the darkest hour, I know there is always beauty to be found. As much as it hurts sometimes to miss something, imagine never feeling passionately about anything? Never feeling that euphoric high in a great accomplishment, never experiencing love in all its glory, never experiencing true contentment just from spying the morning dew on a freshly blossoming flower...what would be the point of it all if we did not have those glorious moments of clarity?


Thursday, August 06, 2015

The Daily Chai reaches 200

Today's chai was spicy, very spicy. I was sulking a little bit today, but I made myself cheer up dramatically this afternoon and I'm back to my old self.

This is my 200th post and I'm pretty proud of hitting that milestone. Do you remember all the hoopla about Cheers reaching 200 episodes? If you don't, you're too young to be my friend. It is the equivalent to my parents' generation's question of where were you when JFK was shot. Which, when you think about, also serves to illustrate the differences between their generation and ours. 

I want to write something really profound today because I hit that milestone, but that being said, I got nothin' except this conversation with my mother which I thought was hilarious:

Now I want to know what the fuckity fuck is up with boys? Seriously. Why can't they just be straight-forward in what they want? They either leave you hanging or, if by some fucking miracle, they actually tell you what they are looking for and you say, "Hey, I AM that!" they run screaming in the fucking opposite direction? This has happened on a few occasions, so I'm not talking about one guy in particular, nor am I speaking from only my own personal experience. Basically I'm pretty sure the entire gender acts like this. I have words for you. Fucking stop it. It's annoying. And you bitch about what women want. They want to be wanted. It's pretty fucking simple.

Jebus, I wanted profound and went with profane instead. Oops. Sorry.


Wednesday, August 05, 2015

The Daily Chai Talks to the Minions

Today's chai was delicious. Had a heart to heart with a friend of mine, much needed, but I'm not sure if it really resolved anything. What can you do? Life is messy.

I talked to Kate and Anna over FaceTime today. They showed me their new rooms in the house their dad just moved to this week. They seem very happy with everything and Anna's room has castle wallpaper, so she is basically in heaven. I asked Anna if she was having fun with daddy on her week off from daycare and she said, "No, I'm having a bad day." Oh dear, why are you having a bad day little chicken? "I don't know, I cry every day about something, so that is a bad day."

No judgements on my ex. This is just four year old behaviour and Kate was exactly the same way at that age. I remember complaining to a co-worker that Kate cried about everything and anything between the ages of three and five. It was infuriating, frustrating and my patience wore thin every day. I remember being so angry with her crying as we were getting ready to leave for some party or something and I turned around and yelled at her to stop, please just stop, for the love of all things holy, STOP CRYING! ENOUGH. Of course, me losing my shit didn't help matters in any way whatsoever. My husband was looking at me like I was crazy and I could see the disappointment and anger in his eyes, I could feel my own disappointed tears pricking at my eyelids and Kate, well, she just looked at me in astonishment for a moment before renewing her sobs so hard that she threw up. Not even kidding. Tempers all around, it was a great night. 

So little kids cry. Some more than others. But why does it have to be so much? So often? And about the most ridiculous things?

It comes down to some pretty simple points.

The first is that four year olds do not have the necessary words to express how they are feeling or what they want so they get frustrated all the time. Anna (and Kate at that age) is very articulate, but her vocabulary is, of course, still building. She wants to express a thought or tell me about something that happened and she simply does not have the words to explain it and I end up not understanding and she gets frustrated. I'm probably correct in assuming that men don't cry when they are frustrated, but I know plenty of women that do or want to. That's not sexist by the way, it's just the truth. So you have to think about the daily struggle a pre-schooler has to make herself understood and the final frustrating time when it's just too much, that's when the tears come. 

The second is that four year olds do not have control of their feelings the same way that many adults have learned to harness theirs. It takes years of wasted energy to control our feelings so that we can lie behind a mask of calm that we are just fine. Absolutely and totally fine. Cheerily so, in fact! All lies. And four year olds just don't have the same amount of practice we've had, the guile to lie as effectively as we do to keep things comfortable for people who don't really want to know that we are currently losing our fucking minds. It's actually refreshing when you think about it, that honesty in emotion.

The third is that, to them, the most ridiculous things are of paramount importance. I remember absolutely losing my entire shit because the neighbourhood kid had chewed the head off my yellow unicorn eraser. Like, I lost it. I shrieked at her, snatched it away and starting wailing like my arm had been severed at the elbow. My mother came running and when I, hiccoughing and wheezing, told her that my unicorn's head had been destroyed by that cretin, she was so angry at me for scaring her, so angry that I was not crying about a REAL PROBLEM, she yelled at me and sent me to my room. But the thing was, I loved that eraser. My dad had bought it for me on one of the many bookstore expeditions that he had taken me on. He usually bought me a book, but this time, that beautiful, yellow unicorn eraser caught my eye and he bought it instead. You might be laughing right now, but I loved it. And that little bitch ATE IT. WHAT. THE. FUCK? Who eats an eraser? I still remember her stunned countenance when I screamed in her face after realizing what she'd done and the injustice of being sent to my room when I had been absolutely wronged and I still hate her. Seems silly, doesn't it? But that is just one thing that I remember, as a child, that seemed to be the end of the world. I spent the rest of the afternoon in my bed room, sulking. Seriously. As an adult I snicker about it and it's silliness, but as a child, I was devastated. Imagine all the little injustices that seem insignificant to us but end the world for our little loves? Is it any wonder they cry?

Patience does not always come easy. But try to remember being a child and how frustrating it was instead of how easy it seems after you become an adult. Remember how badly you wanted to grow up so you could be in charge of your life? You didn't feel that way because childhood was a cake walk.


Tuesday, August 04, 2015

The Chai Latte Gives You a Driving Lesson

Today's chai...oh how do I describe the bliss of today's chai after 10 days of denial? Sadly, it was, if you can believe this, too spicy and I didn't finish it! You all know I like it hot and spicy, but today's was over the top. Oh well, you can't win them all.

As I was driving in the left lane on the 401 highway behind some slow-moving douchebag, I thought, my rage right now would make a good blog entry. Let me explain something to you douchebag: the left lane is for passing, get the fuck out of my way.

That's about it. I guess that wasn't a very long entry.

I miss driving on the highway in Germany because people get out of your way when you come up behind them in the left lane. Like, without fail. You don't need to tailgate them dangerously, if that's your thing, you don't need to honk or flash your lights. People watch their rearview mirror and get out of the way when they see you coming. The answer for this is pretty simple. When you see a ferrari coming up behind you at 180 kilometres an hour, you know for a fact that he ain't stopping and you going 100 kilometres an hour in front of him means certain death for both of you. It's simply a fact of death and you get the fuck out the way.

People in Canada seem to have this moral longing to police the roads so they stay in the left lane, hmmming away at 100 and flipping you the bird when you come flying up behind them. I will say this once and once only, if I want to drive 150 in the left lane, that is my right to 6 demerit points, 30 day licence suspension and a hefty fine, not your right to impede my way. And no, I do not drive 150 kilometres per hour. I'm just saying, leave your moral judgement about other people's driving at home and simply follow the rules yourself if it makes you feel better.

And don't even get me started about roundabouts. I have already written a perfectly good explanation here: Megan's Pet Peeves Part Deux The added bonus is rereading my ridiculous pet peeves.

In case you are wondering, here is the first instalment of my pet peeves.*


*Having just re-read my first list of pet peeves, I realize I have brought up the passing lane already. Sorry about the redundancy, but obviously it's really irritating and I have to get the word out there

Saturday, August 01, 2015

The Daily Chai Went to the...BEACH!

Today's chai... *sigh*

I went to Grand Bend with my mum today and had a fab day, hungover and all. Thank god that woman dislikes early starts about as much as I do! Mum and I used to go to Grand Bend at least once a year, just me and her but of course, once I had my babies, it wasn't really possible to make that yearly trek without them. Don't get me wrong, love going to the beach with the kids, but it's awfully nice to be with just my mom and not have to worry about anything but what we feel like doing. Lying on the sand, feeling the sun warm on my skin and hearing the waves beat down on the shore made me blissfully happy and restored my believe that life is good. The beach is definitely my happy place. I haven't been to Grand Bend in a couple years now, as Turkey Point is usually my chosen destination, but it was great to be back, the busy throng of so many people, the shops and the wonderful Lake Huron, actual good places to eat (the one restaurant in Turkey Point being pretty crap). Maybe I will go back Monday!

I dropped my kids off at their grandparents last night and I tell you, it doesn't get any easier to leave them each week. It's tiring and challenging to be an only parent, especially with Anna only being four and needing a lot more assistance with life in general, but not seeing them for a week at a time is really starting to get to me. I think it was worse dropping them off this week because we really had an excellent time together, lots of bonding and adventures and cuddles at night before bed and now they are gone and the house seems very empty.

The other part of that is I'm missing HALF their lives and the idea is absolutely bizarre to me. Come fall, we're changing up the schedule and I will have them Mondays and Tuesdays and every other weekend so at least I get to see them each week. As tough as it is not to see them for a whole week, it's also tough to be a single parent for an entire week. I'm hoping this new schedule will help break that up and make it not so hard to say goodbye, but also help to be a better parent because I won't be as overwhelmed.  It makes me nervous though as well, like what happens if there is some sort of misunderstanding and the kids get left at school/daycare with no one to pick them up? I'm sure this won't happen, but again, it's so bizarre not to be in charge of them 24/7 and being absolutely sure that they are safe.

I am still so sad at what has happened to my marriage and my life. I deal with this sadness every day. I'm not saying that I regret my decision, I know I made the right one, but it's still difficult to realize that my life is so different than how I pictured it. My future feels so uncertain and sometimes that is exciting and interesting, but a lot of times it's just scary. I have so many doubts about myself and whether I can really do life on my own and I'm sad about not seeing my kids every day and I worry about how this will affect them, now and in the future. I think about Kate and I bear her sadness too because while I know she's resilient and tough, I also know she is carrying a hurt inside that has changed her childhood and will likely shape the rest of her life. I worry less about Anna because she's so young and won't even remember a time when mummy and daddy were together. As she blithely told a friend the other night, "Mummy and Daddy had a big fight and they don't like each other anymore and now they don't live together." She wasn't upset about it or sad, she was just stating a fact. It's already normal for her that we live separate lives.

Anyway, as always, the eternal optimist inside my head is tra-la-la-laing that everything is gonna be all right and telling me I think way too damn much.