Last night we made homemade ice cream. A vanilla bean and oreo cookie concoction. We had so much fun watching the progress. Turning the paddle in the ice cream every five minutes, watching the gooey mess slowly take shape. We dug in right out of the ice cream maker.

The kids are doing well. We are doing well. I have been trying to find more fun things for us to do. As i have the kids during the week most of our time is taken up with school and activities and homework. But, i really want to make their time with me about other stuff too. These are the times i have this inkling desire to homeschool, just so we could spend more time together. Of course, that's just crazy talk as i would surely lose my mind in a matter of days.

I find the nights when i have the kids incredibly lonely. They go to bed fairly early. And then i just sort of putter around. I have no interest in television anymore and often i have trouble reading at night as i am just a little too tired. I end up browsing blogs, sitting staring at the fire, wandering around outside my house admiring the stars and the moons reflection off the lake. Listening to my melancholy music.

It's hard in the still darkness of the night to keep my mind from dark places. Keep focused on the positive things. Last night i posted on facebook that i was feeling lonely and a friend sent me this quote:

“Language... has created the word "loneliness" to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word "solitude" to express the glory of being alone.” ~someone

A family member just came to visit for a couple of days. It was nice. I feel so proud of my new home. Of my new life. Of all the things i have accomplished.

I just want to share it. Share it with my family. I want to be accepted and loved. I want to be felt proud of.

Family is so hard. I have such a deeper appreciation now for what family means and all the good things mine taught me. I was never an easy child. I have always been distant, difficult to know. I have a lot of trouble letting my family in. It is hard for them, they don't really understand me. I am always filled with expectation and hope about our relationship and always leave feeling lonely and misunderstood.

I'm beginning to see that my expectations are not realistic. If i want to be loved, i need to love. If i want to be understood, i need to understand, i need to share.

I am trying harder to do that. To let them in a little. Let them in without feeling worry or shame about who i am.

Part of it is the mental illness. My family has a hard time understanding it, feeling like helpless onlookers. I have taken that as a personal slight instead of trying to explain it better. I always retreat to the "everything is fine" corner when i should have been saying "it's not okay, but there's not much you can do."

I have always been ashamed, trying to protect them from the pain and hurt and worry. Instead i made them worry more. I'm not sure exactly how changing these behaviours and patterns will happen or how to make it happen. But, i am aware of it now.

Hot in my head these days has been the rest of my life.

It is a strange place i am in. Single, jobless, careerless.

All of those things are not really true. I have a job. I am a server, a waitress, on a bad day i make more money than the teachers in my kids school. On a good day i make as much as any professional. In this slow season there are no good days, they are all slow days and i am only working a few shifts a week. Actually, one or two. Times are tight. But, i am okay with that.

Forefront in my thoughts has been the environmental footprint i am leaving on this earth. What i am teaching my children. How living with less, much less, has been the closest thing i have ever felt to spirituality. My children are my career and teaching them these small lessons is more rewarding and has a larger, positive, environmental footprint than most careers i could choose.

It sounds strange, but living off of 1/10th of what i used to has been very empowering for me. I love having one can of trash per month. I love feeding my family healthy, simple foods. My oldest daughter fixing our clothes on her sewing machine.P lanning our vegetable garden in a meaningful way. Planning to feed us for ten months with our harvest.

Investing $200 in high quality compost and 100 mile seeds. Purchasing local, organic, beef, chicken and pork. Really, we are living the ten mile diet - save for the dairy and grains - which are more like 100 miles. The oil is a stumper - olive oil, spices, rice - not local.

We have our home heated solely by the wood stove. Our food all local and organic. Even our clothes - all bought locally made from organic cotton, hemp and bamboo.

I want my environmental foot print to be a mere shadow. A hike in, hike out - take what you brought - kind of affair.

But, i am curious. Does this mean anything to anybody else? Or is it a westcoast hippie kind of thing?

Well, i guess i am all done with the detoxing. It's hard to tell because i am wrapped up in lack of sleep and parenting and working and trying to figure out my life.

But i feel good. I feel fine. I am getting on. Getting by.

I had the kids on friday night. A weekend night without work. We had a slumber party and the first bonfire of the season. The kids danced with sticks full of embers. Smashing them together and on the ground, marveling in the power of fire and sparks. The magic of being a child out in the darkness of a winter night. I introduced them to the man i have been dating. It felt like the right time. He is a wonderful person who has shown me the beauty of the world. The simpler things. A kinder person i have never met.

I'm not going to say much about him. It just felt like time to introduce this other part of my life. He has kept me sane. He has listened to my joys and sadness. He has held me when i cried, pushed me to believe in myself. He has been my friend in a time when i can count friends on half a hand.

And i waited a long time to introduce my kids to him. They knew his name. Knew that i alone couldn't have been chopping all that wood. They noticed two coffee cups on the counter when they return to our home. I have been cautious and nervous about the introduction of new people in their lives. But i also knew that they were feeling like some unknown stranger was in their home when they weren't around. And that? That made them nervous. More nervous than the thought of a boyfriend.

And it went well. A few hours. Some wood collected by the boys. A bonfire started, roasting sticks found and many marshmallows. And? At the end of the night toby said "mom, i'm glad we met bill."

Could this picture really have been taken 2 1/2 years ago? Did i get my camera that long ago? I still see parker this way. Carrying him everywhere we go. What happened to my life? Everything began to change moments/days/months after this picture was taken. I remember buying my camera, the same day this picture was taken. My life felt full of promise. I was so excited to be embracing this side of me, Again.

Parker. My baby. My partner in crime.

Parker was invited to a birthday party today. The first time he had an invite just for him. The look of quiet pride. The happiness. I melted. Watching my last baby grow up.

My ex-husband (i changed my mind on that - a bit of respect) is, i think, having a vasectomy. Some indirect comments about doctor appointments, a little bit of knowledge about girlfriends, i put one and two together.

I felt so very mixed. Happy that the kids will never have to deal with that whole dad having other kids thing. Jealousy. Happiness. Happy to see some mending of the heart i broke. It's very hard to let go of that life. We have agreed to be friends. And it is working. It is much easier. Because? Because i like that person. You can't spend sixteen years together and not, after all the shit has washed a little, an not, like each other still. At least i don't want to. I don't want to be one of those people who are all up in the "my ex" is such an asshole, such a bitch, such a....

It's not who i am. There are so few people i connect with in this world. People who i feel are true. I am thankful to be able to hold onto this one. Just a little bit.

I was sort of dreading valentine's day. All the holidays are difficult right now. Combined with my crazy head and hectic work week i was feeling a little knot in my stomach that i was going to have a classic bad mommy moment.

It worked out though. Parker and i went out and picked out a small gift for each of the kids, some playmobil, some craft kits and a fountain pen for Tristan. My valentines from Brenda arrived just in time. The girls loved them, as i knew they would. Toby opted for little boxes of smarties with a "to and from" box on the back. They sat while i cooked dinner and did all their cards - without any fuss or frustration.

I made one of our favourite dinners, linguine tossed with smoked salmon, and we had a lovely evening. At bedtime we talked a bit more about love and relationships and mommy and daddy. Just casual, but always keeping the conversation open for them. Then i sent them to bed, cards ready to go in paper sacks.

Valentines morning they jumped out of bed and in a whirlwind of dirty socks, teeth-brushing and cheerios they were in the car ten minutes after they woke. Returning home in the afternoon with bags full of treats and valentines and retreated to their bedroom to compare the hauls.

Work, which i had been dreading, went amazingly well. Everybody was happy. There were no boyfirend/husband/partners grumpy because they were out spending money on something they resented. All the couples, and there were lots of them, were sweet and cute and lovey-dovey, and had i not magically transformed into a woman who was not bitter about love and relationships, i probably would have spent the evening giving caf to the decafs, veal broth to the vegetarians and spilling red wine on every white blouse.

But i didn't. Instead i gave everybody SAJ Valentines in their billfolds and drove home with a pocket full of money and a little faith in my heart.

And i walked in the door to a bouquet of flowers, a card, some chocolate and a bottle of wine.

Faith - Restored

Lux was the youngest of four children. Two boys, two girls. A six year gap between her and her sister meant that by the time she was twelve she was the only child left at home. She spent her childhood lost in a gaggle of neighbourhood kids. Constantly surrounded by children. Summers spent roaming the nearby streets. Endless games of kick the can, four square and mother may i. Going home only when her mother leaned out her kitchen door and shouted all their names.

Often, being youngest, she would be the first in bed. The summer sun still lighting the dusky night. Kids outside her bedroom window, continuously changing the rules for kick the can, or capture the flag.

Her childhood was a happy one. Surrounded by siblings. When they all left, she became an only child. A lonely child. Her parents had moved past parenting. Her mother going back to work. Finding a new career. Finding some freedom after twenty years of raising children.

Her highschool years were spent sleepless, siblingless and alone. Neighbourhoods changed. Childhood friends long gone. Music and books filled her room. The top bunk piled high with newspaper and magazine clippings. She became an avid scrapbooker. Filling hardcover sketch book after another with handwritten quotes, stickers, photos and lost love notes she found in the halls of school.

She could often be seen in the cafeteria during school, writing furiously in one of her books. Alternately changing tapes on her sony walkman. Homemade mixed tapes full of songs half-hazardly recorded from the radio. Money saved up to buy one of those all in one double tape deck, record player and radio white plastic stereos from the local department store.

Her room, with the daisies, was filled with posters of James Dean and The Police, Marilyn Monroe and the Go-Go's. She was not unlike so many girls her age. Struggling to figure it all out in the midst of angst and hormones, baby fat and pubic hair.

this is what i look at to make me feel all warm and gooey inside. i'll post the second installment of my ongoing story this evening. i'm thinking every other day will be more realistic.

I am doing well. I know people are watching me. Worried. Waiting for me to fall. Hoping for the best.

The kids and i had a wonderful day. Actually, couple of days. We went for a long walk along the traintracks and the edge of the lake yesterday. Catching up on our weekends apart. Tristan had been in vancouver living it up and being spoiled by my parents. The other three spent the weekend at their dads while i continued to detoxify and withdraw.

It is going as i expected. Moments of anxiety, panic, sadness. Lots of pain and nausea. But, i know it should get better. It will get better. I talked to a doctor on the phone tonight when i began to panic after looking in the mirror, at night, and realizing that my pupils were very constricted. Pupils so small i could barely see them. It freaked me out. Here i am, feeling sick and dizzy, nauseous, pale and sweaty. Really, i've been feeling like i am very ill. Really sick, like i'm laying on my death bed. I imagine that sometimes. When i am laying in bed, holding my head, i really am dying. This is way worse than withdrawal. I have a secret underlying condition that is killing me and i am blaming it on withdrawal. But, i don't. I was on a medication that doctors routinely prescribe without a single mention of side-effects or discontinuation effects.

Anyway, if you click on parker up there you will see a bunch of cute photos from today that will assure you all is well.

xx
jess

As a teenager Lux lost herself in the small details of her life. She would lay in her bed at night tracing the shadows that danced along her wall. Her bedroom was painted sunshine yellow with a wallpaper trim of daisies. Her mother had put it up for her when at the age of twelve she began having nightmares.

Her nightmares came every night. She would wake up often too terrified to get out of bed. She would knock on the top bunk, trying desperately to wake up her older sister. Cecilia would wake up groggy and crawl into bed with her little sister. She would stroke her hair and tell her to close her eyes and imagine a field of daisies. Something happy. A happy place.

As years went by Lux began staying awake all night. Keeping the nightmares at bay by not sleeping when it was dark. If she kept herself up until the moon began to be replaced in the sky by the sun she would not have bad dreams. Instead she would dream of her daisies and wake after a few hours of sleep to face the teenager day under the haze of sleep deprivation.

The world worked its' way around her while she lived life a couple paces behind everyone else. Noticing the way the boy with the locker beside hers would empty his pockets left to right bottom to top and finger each object gently before putting them all back again right to left top to bottom. The way girls would travel in groups, effortlessly tossing their hair as they giggled and swaggered their perfect hips. Oblivious to the way their happiness tortured those who didn't step so lightly.

Lux began watching the carpet in the hallways at highschool. It was easier than faces. She counted blocks of colour and followed lines of patterns to Algebra. She picked up stubby dropped pencils, hairpins, forgotten notes and love letters. She would arrange them all in a shoebox in her room. Passing the hours at night. Arranging thumbtacks and crayons by colour. Smelling the wax on her fingers.

I quit my job today. One of them. I had a moment. I am too old to be treated like a child.

I had a dream last night. I was late for work. I was running to work in my pajamas and my snow boots. My teeth weren't brushed. Just as i was almost there. Right at the side of the parking lot. A limo rushed in, screeched to a halt. Out jumped my dad and Peter Jennings ( a national news correspondant). Peter ran right up to me, a couple of centimeters from my face, and said "Jess! What are you going to do with your life? What are you going to be when you grow up?!!"

I tried to turn my face away so he wouldn't notice my bad breath. I went to answer. And i woke up. Sweaty.

Stewing all day today. A little moment at work. It all became clear. And i quit.

Because this is what i want to do. What i have always wanted to do. To begin this beginning i introduce "jessnashostofuva"

or

Jess' national short story & fuck you valentines month!! Huzza!!

A short story a day. A fictional short story a day for thirty days. Starting tomorrow.

I took the day off yesterday. No kids. No work.

It's hard to be alone with myself. Sitting still. Relaxing.

I find myself cleaning, doing laundry. Driving around. Shopping.

Avoiding. Avoiding the swirling thoughts.

I am really alone. I am lonely. Who am i. Do i like the person i am. The person i've become.

I ended up tucking myself in the corner of a local brewpub. Drinking a blue martini. Eating a basket of sweet potato fries with chipotle aioli. Imaging what the people around me were thinking. Did they sit alone and wonder the same things i do. Are we all avoiding these same questions?

Are we all afraid to be alone?

I get a lot of emails asking me questions about various things. Yesterday a woman asked me:

If I can ask, how did you tell your kids? How did you explain it?

She was asking in reference to her four year old. It's hard. For me i have just taken it slowly. Mostly because i don't have all the answers and i've been watching for clues from them as to when they need more information.

When we first separated we sat them all down and told them we were going to live apart for awhile and that we still loved them very much and that would never change.

As time has gone by and it has become more clear that the marriage is over i have taken small opportunities to fill them in. I like talking in the car. They are a captive audience then. Plus, they are relaxed. Sometimes i will just ask them how they are doing with the stuff with mommy and daddy. Or i will ask them if they have any questions. They usually do. Mostly wondering about the houses and how long we are going to live in this one.

A while ago toby asked me "Mom, are you and daddy ever going to be together again?" They are hard questions to answer. I have realized that they just want the truth. The truth in a way they understand, that is age appropriate and no too complicated. I just told him "no, i don't think so." But then he takes that as having a little hope because i said "i don't think so."

"So, you might?"

"Well toby. No i don't think so. I think that this is the way it is going to be."

And you know what? He was happy with that answer. He just wants the truth. Kids need to not be surprised. If you give them the credit of being able to handle the truth better than small lies they will be so much happier. Just like they don't like spaghetti for dinner when you promised pancakes. They don't like uncertainty in their lives. They just want to know what is happening and what is going to happen.

Today i am officially off my medication for depression and anxiety. Manic Depressive. Bi-polar disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. Social Anxiety Disorder. There's been a few in there.

Seven months ago i tried to commit suicide. For the fifth time in my life.

Five months ago my thirteen year marriage ended.

It would seem that, if ever there was a time, now is the time i need to be medicated. But? But, i feel differently. I feel like i have worked through a lot of the demons that have been haunting me. I have forgiven myself. I have forgiven others. I became ready to try life without the fog of drugs.

For me, medication never really made me feel better. I was on medication during my suicide attempt. It just made me feel dull and like a shell of my former self. Everything became more difficult.

Finding joy. Finding artistic fulfillment. Feeling awake. Feeling alive. Remembering things. Not needing ten hours of sleep.

Sure, i could face the world without anxiety. But the cost felt too high. I feel like i lost myself in prescription medicine.

This morning when it was time to take my medicine. A time that filled me with anxiety every morning because i knew that if i forgot, even for a few hours, i would face debilitating headaches and nausea later in the day. But, it was very scary to let go of that crutch. That thing which assured me, despite side-effects, was making me better.

I did it. I took my extra vitamins. My fish oils. My acidopholous. I sprayed some rescue remedy in my mouth and i faced the day. A first day in over two years without effexor, lorazepam, ativan, zanax or cipralex.

I made it through. It wasn't great. But, it wasn't horrible.

And i feel a little bit freer tonight. Waiting for it all to leave my body completely.

Waiting for me.

We went to Rainbows last night. It is such a fantastic program. It tugs at my heart strings when they talk about loss. The loss of a family. But, it has been really great for the kids to see that the experience they are going through, the feelings, are not theirs alone. That other kids are experiencing the same things.

Separation has taken a turn for the worse this week as money issues get involved. I am reminded once again how little value is placed on being a stay-at-home mom. I have actually been questioned how i contributed to the family. It hurts me so much to see myself valued at zero dollars when i gave up ten plus years of my life to raise my children. And they are fantastic children. The value in that is not measurable.

I don't want to drag this through the broken internet waters. But i am just so dismayed by just how slowly we have come along as a society in valuing family.

On the other hand toby got out of bed this morning and said "mom? mom! you are the best mom ever. No really. I can't think of a better mom than you."