What a month.

It has been a great, wonderful, excellent month.

I have reached, i think, the very bottom of my emotional depth. Only to be taken over by nature.

I have not watched television. At all.

I started, and almost finished, my NaBloPoMo novel.

Three days ago when i was hunkered down in my friends house i went to go write and my novel was gone. All except 13,000 words at the beginning and 250 at the end. I was so sad. Devastated.

But, now? I am ready to soldier on. I will finish that novel.

Shane is redesigning my book of poetry.

I have learned how much i love nature. How much it hurts me when the world takes it for granted. I was the one at BlogHer bitching about the lack of recycling. I love animals immensely. We see at least 50 deer a day, but i still slow down every time and point them out to my kids.

I have learned how much all of you mean to me. You are all a part of my life. Every single day. You make me happy. I am thankful for that.

Don't go away. I need you here.

Happy December.

jess
xx

This is my house a few days ago.

Our power has gone out two more times in the past few hours and we are trying desperately to heat it back up. Right now it's 57. Our friend is on his way over with a drywall heater that should heat it up real quick.

I have put my foot down and refuse to leave. Even if we all end up huddling together under a mountain of sleeping bags.

We have had nine inches of snow in the past 90 minutes and it's not letting up. The snow is up to my hipbone.

What happened to Fall?

I am stuck in this surreal half-life.

I hope all returns to normal soon.

What a way to delay the start of the holiday season.

Wish me luck.

Our power just came on after five nights without. We have no fire, so no heat and we are on a well, so no water or toilets, when the power is out.

It has been a long, cold week. Without the help of friends i'm not sure how we would have made it.

It has reminded me of all the things that are important in life and how during times of crisis love isn't all you need.

Heat and water are necessities of life. I will never take them for granted again.

I will also never take for granted hot showers, clean clothes, my pillow, my bed, the internet, coffee first thing in the morning and warm hands - especially parkers on my belly in the morning.

Our power is set to go out again at any moment. It is snowing again and the temperature is dropping and the trees are weeping from the weight of it all.

When the power went back on the temperature in my house was 41f. It is going to take days to heat up in here.

See you soon. I hope.

Still no power.

The kids are at school and so am i so i have internet access for a short while.

I have begged forgivness for not posting yesterday.

Please let me stay in NaBloPoMo???

I am fine. Doing fine.

Miserable and cold.

I want my house back.

see you soon.

I am without power, without internet access. The snow? It is falling hard.

I am sitting in the driveway of a coffee shop, risking life and limb - in the dark hours - just to post to NaBloPoMo.

My novel? It will be done by christmas, NaNoWriMo? i kissed you goodbye when our power went out thursday and i had only 24% battery power left on my iBook.

I am happy and embarassed that all of you want my book of poetry. It contains, at least, 10 naked photos of me. I'm going to take all of those out. Sorry.

I am good. Okay. Not so good.

It's so hard. Sitting here. Telling you every little thing about my life. My life? It is wonderful and perfect. A husband who loves me, beautiful children, grandparents. Yet. But.

Today i went for a walk alone in the snow. I love the snow. And i thought, i guess this is how it will be, this is the best it will be. Sadness that soaks me. Like wet clothes in the winter that never really dry. I will always be sad. To say that. It is so hard.

I sit with my husband, and we talk, and we laugh, but the whole time i am just pretending to be happy. I am not happy. I am overcome by sadness. My head hurts, it reels.

I don't want advice today.

I know i need to see a doctor, a naturopath, a therapist.

Today, i am just telling you that i walked down my road alone and i wished that the sadness would go away. I wished that i could be dead.

Thou shalt never post drunk.

Unless it's 11:50pm on day 25 of NaBloPoMo.

There is snow. Lot's of snow.

Grandma is snowed in at our house.

And so shane and i walked the 3km. to the pub. We watched a band, played pool, drank many pints of Hermann's and walked back home in the snow.

Best date ever.

Goodnight day 25.

Here he is again. To offend, inspire and be the best darn husband anybody ever deserved. Shane's Guest Post #2. Rules: jess may not touch or edit.

Jess is feeling burned out with daily blogging and working on her book, so I've been recruited to do a guest post.

I don't read her blog that often because I don't want her to feel like she needs to censor anything. Writing honestly is hard enough without me chirping in with "what did you mean by that" kind of comments. But I do secretly look periodically to make sure she's doing okay.

I noticed that she'd written that it's been 16 years since we started dating and it got me thinking about when we first started dating. We met in creative writing class at Capilano College. I was a young wanna-be poet. I was awful. And truthfully, my writing couldn't have been what she liked about me.

Especially since Jess was the best writer in our class. She just wrote in a truthful, wonderfully vulnerable, but snappy way.

In University she wrote a book of poetry. I'm currently holding the only remaining copy. I read it a few weeks ago for the first time in a decade and it reminded me of that time of our life.

I want to share with you one poem from it. To preface this, it's important to note that I hate poetry. I never read it anymore, and inwardly cringe when I think about it. But her's are so good, so that's why I want to share it with you. I picked this one because it is about the day just before we got together. I thought you might like it.

Remembrance day

On remembrance day
i chased you
through the grassy trail
of your old school
showing me
something
remembering
kissing games
in the soggy woods
when i caught you
our breaths wet & heavy
in the air
i wanted to kiss you but
walking back to the cement
it was easier

I was thinking that she should reissue this little poetry book for her blog readers. I think it would be a nice insight into what she was like as a younger women. I'm sure she'll be horribly embarrassed by it. But if you are interested, why don't you leave a comment and ask her to send you a copy. If enough people request it, I'll bet we can guilt her into doing it.

p.s. if Jess gets more than 15 requests, she's agreed to release it. So comment, god dammit!

shane
xxoo

Then she would sway into the kitchen, her skirt following behind her. Sexy and simple. I loved her so much in those moments. I would linger in her bedroom. Fingering through her lacy bras, trying on her high heels, using her make-up brushes – brushing the remnants of colour onto my cheeks and eyes. Searching through her jewelry box. Trying on big red glass rings and long chains of fake pearls. Reading our medical bracelets from the hospital when we were born. Examining all the little baby teeth she had stored in an envelope in there. She even had old coins from England that she had brought with her when she immigrated in 1945.

And i am working and working.

I am not doing anything silly.

Can't chocolate make you feel better and be bad for you?

Or wine?

Or staying up too late?

Or letting your kids watch too much TV?

That's not really what i was talking about. But good possibilities.

I am lost in this november push. The best thing is that i haven't even thought about christmas yet, oops, just did. With thanksgiving having come and gone over a month ago, it's different for us canadians. The season doesn't start until december 1st and anything holidayish i see before then just makes me bitter.

xx
jess

I am here.

I am around.

I am busy.

Writing.

Never going to be done on time.

But, blugh, who cares about time anyway.

I am writing a novel.

That's what counts.

I have so much to tell you.

I have been lower than low, and a little bit happy.

See above photo.

Parker went to the dentist today and they are going to pull out his tooth that he chipped biting me. My poor boy. Gap toothed for years - he will be. Say's Yoda.

I have a question?

If something is really bad for you or really wrong, but makes you feel better, would you do it?

I didn't even know! I feel so humble. And foolish. Now i'll have no votes and voting closes tonight.

So, ahem, you know...if you want.

je suis fatigue.

Parker was up all night with the tummy flu. Alternately rubbing my back to make sure I was okay, throwing up, and asking me to rub his back. He was very sweet.

I slept restlessy from 5 til 7am dreaming the same dream over and over which involved ada, chair, and kilowatthour (i know her name, but not sure if it's private and myself flying around trying to escape some bad dudes. Sometimes we could fly all on our own (as toby would say, sweet) and sometimes we had magical flying machines.

Obviously with the machines we could fly higher and faster and our adventure took on more wacky twists and turns, frizzle chickens living in chairs bedroom! When we had to fly on our own we often flew into trees that looked like the whomping willow.

All in all i woke up exhausted and exuberant.

Sixteen years ago today shane and i kissed for the very first time.

I would say it seems like yesterday, but it doesn't. It feels like a lifetime ago.

His kisses still make me feel the same way.

I love him

Ah day 18, how you scorn me.

My little town is flooding. Downtown with it's corner store, post office, pub and gas station is sinking in 5 million gallons of water. Literally.

Our school has become the target for some little hoodlum graffitti kids. Zippo and tag, i assume, are their names. I have spent every day painting over new spray-paint. Nothing is drying because of the rain. Just sticky layer over sticky layer.

A river, that didn't exist two weeks ago, is flowing through our yard. The kids spent the better part of the day building dams. Experimenting on the best way to change the flow. Pretending to be busy beavers. Soaking themselves to their armpits, but playing happily together. All four of them.

We made boats out of fallen maple leaves with pine cone sailors guiding them from frontyard to back. Hot chocolate and homemade brownies for snacks before bed and now they are all slumbering quietly.

I am off to continue "thirty Days in a MiniVan" and then, perhaps, some time alone with my husband. What'shisname.

My relationship with **** was manic. Strained for days, weeks on end, then suddenly everything would be okay again for a while. We could stay up late into the evening. Talking, laughing, drinking wine. Becoming friends again. Becoming lovers again. His fingers softly tracing the scars on my belly, kissing me softly. Knowing that I still needed to be taken care of, to be loved, to be a woman. Not just a mother.

And that’s how life would go. Ebbing and flowing. Endless ups and downs. And all the while I would be a mother. Taking the best care of my children that I could. Filled with the same doubts that most mothers feel. Was I doing my best. Thinking at night of all the things I didn’t do or didn’t do well and how I would try harder the next day. I would be a better mother the next day.

NaNoWriMo. Plugging along. I don't think i'm going to finish by the end of the month. But, that's okay. It's coming together in a way i never imagined.

It's actually a story. A story i hope someone will read.

And so it is the middle of the month. We are sitting in the middle of a west coast storm. Streets are flooding. Trees are falling. Power is flickering, going out, and we are cold. The light of a laptop computer guiding us home.

I am missing. Missing friends. Missing not writing a novel. Missing phone calls.

Cryptic today.

I like to not rake leaves. I like my whole yard covered in a blanket of colours. It's comforting and quiet. Kind of like snow.

I like to eat crackers and cheese for lunch, today was triscuits and cheddar.

I like the smell of sweat. Sweat from that day, not yesterday.

I have one pair of pants that fit me and today i got latex paint on them.

I have a wish. I wish that all of you will send me a christmas card so that i feel less lonely.

This comes to you courtesy of my pal MB and letter B, who i also love.

Things I Did For Love

1. Chose to love
2. Bought and wore black lace garters, bra, and thong
3. Chose a c-section instead of a VBAC
4. Tried the backdoor
5. Talked dirty
6. Had four babies
7. Stayed home
8. Got a prescription
9. Walked away
10. Came home
11. Gave up a family
12. Got a new family
13. Went to Miami
14. Had my tubes tied
15. Supported self-employment
16. Became financially dependant
17. Cried
18. Learned to love making out
19. Started swearing
20. Had sex in Lake Okanagon surrounded by people
21. Skinny dipping
22. Loved someone
23. Went to bed
24. Turned off the computer
25. Listened to Ween
26. Loved this song
27. Shaved and waxed
28. Let someone believe in me
29. Moved to the country
30. Remembered.

I spent a lovely half an hour yesterday talking to the fabulous jenb. Talking to her is like going into your favourite home, comfortable, cozy and easy.

We chatted about kids and blogs and drugs. Notably, the medication i am taking and how, perhaps, it's not quite working for me. My anxiety has all but disappeared. But. But, i am still depressed.

Not all the time. But, pretty much every day my mood cycles through the highest highs and lowest lows. Most evenings i sit alone at the computer, listening to music, overcome by sadness. The type of sadness that has slowly been eating away at my overall well being. My ability to trudge through the days.

Summer has gone, fall has gone. Did i enjoy them? Am i doing everything i can to make this sadness as bearable as possible. I know it will always be around, under the surface. I have come to accept that. But, i need to knock it down a few notches. Put it away for awhile.

And so i will look into increasing the medication i am on or adding another or perhaps switching. The thought of those options sacres me. I am used to the medicine i'm on now. I don't have brain shivers. I can look at food and often even eat it and enjoy it. My only lasting, and probably permanent, side effect is trouble sleeping.

So, all i have to do now is call the doctor, make an appointment and actually go. Hopefully alone. Not with four fighting kids.

Lists of Things (stolen from kilowatthour, who stole it from blackbird, who stole it from schmutzie)

1. Things on my desk: digital rebel, video camera, various cables, stack of bills, empty wine glass, cup of coffee, candy wrappers, stack of books to read, my new book from jenB, benjy ferree cd, board meeting minutes, our new life insurance policy, and a hairbrush.

2. Things on the table: flashlight (powers been going out a lot), guitar picks, remote for stereo, giant stack of books including: Aligator by Lisa Moore, Little Polar Bear by Hans de Beer, Elmo Loves You, SpinSelling by Neil Rackham, Now I'm Reading, You: An Owner's Manual and The Alchemist. Also our new Health Plan Policy.

3. Things I am wearing: Black trouser socks, Old Navy Black Skinny Cords, New Shirt from She-Bible Clothing, lime green bra and undies. Silver hoop earrings, heart ring, wedding ring, and lovely silver necklace.

4. Things in my bag: Two books i'm reading, wallet, toby's wallet, all the kids medical cards, bank books, and birth certificates in a ziploc, three lip glosses, clonazepam, effexor, business cards leftover from BlogHer, various school memos, allergy bag with two epipens, benadryl and an extra cell phone in it. Lot's of little treasures including matchbox cars, polly pockets, bouncy balls, shells, marbles, rocks, hockey cards. A pack of Trident Whitening gum in blue.

5. Things that made up my lunch: coffee and two Wasa Crackers with Cream Cheese. A jalapeno stuffed olive.

6. Things I wish I'd never swallowed: various parts of a pen i choked on while getting in trouble by the principal in grade 9.

7. Things I have a fondness for that are less than obvious: National Lampoon Christmas Vacation, the smell of dirt, people's hands.

8. A thing I wish was not stuck in my head: Every single Disney Movie Song ever written by Elton John and Celine Dion.

Sundays are not good when:

• you get your period


• you wake up with a cold sore


• and an ear infection


• and a hangover


• your shopping and your grocery cart runs away in the parking lot and smashes into an old lady's car and she demands your insurance and registration


• there are six loads of laundry to do


• it has been rainy and dark for weeks and you are depressed

A walk to the quarry. Lot's of leaves. A good day.

Okay, i know it's NaBloPoMo. I haven't corrected that mistake and i apologize.

I am not leaving, not going anywhere, until you pull this iBook out of my cold, dead, hands.

Do any of your kids have WebKinz? The little cute stuffed animal that comes with a secret code that they enter online and then they become hopeless online junkies at the ripe, old age of five?

Well, we have six WebKinz in our house. Every morning it's a race down the stairs: "I get the computer!"

And me racing behind them screaming "NO! YOU KNOW THE RULES!!! Mommy gets coffee and computer before ANYBODY eats or feeds their WebKinz!" Godammit.

Usually followed by moans and groans and parker screaming "I want sesame on the computer! Stupid mommy!"

And then me:

"Parker! No books tonight if you call me stupid mommy."

"Fine!!! Dumb Mommy!!"

"Parker!"

"Okay! Nice, dumb mommy.."

Now i am done.

All i have done for the last nine days is think about writing.

Today?

Today it is killing me. I am writing about the most painful events in my life. I can't sleep.

I am obsessed. Crazed by word counts and uploads.

I am experiencing the highest highs and the lowest lows. It is cathartic. And full of joy. And self-doubt and self-loathing.

Mostly wishing that this life was someone else's.

I am tired of the pain in my head. Of the love in my heart.

I am grateful to have this experience. To put down in words every single thing that has caused me love and joy, and immense pain and sorrow.

I am grateful to this world, the internet world, for bringing me this opportunity.

Although i may not comment like a fiend, or answer all my emails, i am grateful to all of you, to all the blogs i read, to every single one of you who comments (and i always read your blog), i am happy to be a part of all this.

And so, thank you.

My word count for NaNoWriMo is falling short, but i refuse to give in. I've put in so many words to the blogger named "30 Days in a Van" that i am falling in love. Falling in love with writing. With the seclusion and emptiness of my van. Despite the fact that one of the kids spilled milk in here and it smells like crap. I will not cry over spilt milk.

The novel is depressing at best and a testament to my tenacious nature at worst.

I am on Chapter Nine. The eighth story. It has been incredibly painful to write as it is mostly a reflection on my life. Non-fiction with creative license. I won't be going all James Frey and calling it an autobiography though.

Here is a small excerpt:

I spent the summer of my eleventh year in Portugal with a soon to be divorced, miserable couple who would drink too much wine every night, then make loud passionate love in our small villa. I spent my days reading horror novels about brothers and sisters locked in attics, while sitting on the edge of a large cliff overlooking a small bay full of poor fisherman bringing in their daily catch to sell to the local tourist traps.

I think i've mentioned that i have had problems with raccoons and *gulp* a cougar in my yard. Most of my chickens have been killed. The raccoons going so far as chewing their way into the chicken house one night.

I have three chickens left who have gone completely wild. They won't go near the coop, instead roosring high up in the trees every night.

I've been holding my breath over the last few days because stanley, our old english bantam rooster, has been missing. He was one of the first chickens i had and the only one to really become a pet.

The kids carried him around, took him down the slide and fed him special treats. He would follow us around outside, alongside the dogs, a member of the family.

But, he's gone. And i'm sad about it. Silly being sad about a rooster. Probably it's the total loss of all my chickens that saddens me more.

I'm going to wait until the spring to get anymore.

It is raining. Typical westcoast rain, thundering down for days on end. The farmer's fields are flooded. Gardens that were still blooming last week are shuddering and fading in the sogginess. The kids can't go outside and run around at recess. Instead they play puzzles and giggle and get crazier every hour.

The combination of shorter days and lack of physical exercise is making my house a crazy place.

We spent the afternoon at the skating rink. Racing around freestanding, with bars and with parker and eliza in cozy coupe cars. They are sedated and happy now, drinking hot chocolate watching television.

My novel is coming along. This writing here everyday for NaBloPoMo is a cinch in comparison.

50,000 words is sitting in front of me like a giant daunting mountain.

I have gotten through the hardest part of the story. The painful part.

I have been leaving the house every night, driving around listening to music for awhile, gathering my thoughts, then sitting at the side of the road or on the waterfront. Looking over Saanich Inlet and writing for hours on end.

Typing, erasing, typing.

More and more words. Sometimes they spill forth. Other times it is painful and slow. But, i am determined to finish this. For myself.

To write the only novel ever written in 30 days in a minivan.

Sundays are good for:

• bonfires in the backyard with marshmallows


• swim lessons


• roast chicken with lots of garlic smelling up the house


• quiet reflection


• building pillow forts


• pajamas till noon

Shane bet me that i wouldn't share this video with you. Why not?

You all want to see my ass right?

Plus, a little bit of cute parker?

I knew it!

Just so you know, this was at 5:30 today. I was not in the fetal position.

And so i am wondering why i am ending another week on a low note. What is it about fridays that makes me want to curl up in the fetal position, turn on Band of Horses, and cry myself into a deep, long sleep.

I have no answers.

Please accept this little tidbit from my NaNoWriMo book in exchange for a pass on any more navel-gazing on my part. Actually, this is navel-gazing at it's finest. These words may be slightly familiar to some of you.

Don’t we all feel sad sometimes? Aren’t the struggles of life overwhelming for all of us? At least some of the time?

Alone in the world.

My days are so hectic. Mornings spent packing lunches, herding kids in and out of cars and into classes. Parent helping in eliza's class.

Today driving to a school swim, watching parker who insisited on swimming (in his underwear) from the side of the pool. Driving kids back to school, home to do laundry and breakfast dishes, back to school. Meetings. Driving again to marimba class. Dinner. Bed and all it's lingering rituals.

My nights are now consumed with NaNoWriMo. My novel. A beginning and an end. A middle to be written over the next 29 days. 50,000 words.

A novel that will be far from perfect, but it will be mine. It will be a sad and lonely love story.

Because love is the central theme in my life. So much love needed, by so many people.

A life this busy, It just sort of happens. And it has been happening despite my always present, waxing and waning sadness.

Have i told you lately how much i love this boy?

Parker, my only child who doesn't go to school, has been with me every moment over these past couple of months.

The hardest months of my life.

I look at his beautiful face sleeping beside me. No matter how sad i was as i trudged up the stairs to bed, lying besdie him, smelling his still sweet sleepy breath, i knew that i had to make everything okay.

I had to make peace with my heart. Let happiness live side by side with the despair.

Parker has the most dynamic personality of all my kids. The highest highs and the lowest lows.

He loves to kiss me and hug me. He rubs my back when i lay down beside him. Asking me if i'm feeling better.

He is the perfect bookend to my children.

You would think that after a never ending day of witch's brew, pumpkin carving, costume parades, trick or treating and fireworks my children would sleep in.

I so anticipated this sleep in that i called the school at 11:30 last night and told them we would be late.

And thus, these few lame words will put a start to my NaNoWriMo and NaBloPoMo month.

Help me.

It's 6:30 in the morning and they've been eating candy, sneakily in bed, for an hour.