And you sit here in your freezing house because you ran out of oil and the wood stove only heats one room and is so much work to keep going and the kids are miserable and cold as are you sleeping fully clothed, shivering, not remembering the last time you were warm and the kids ask "why can't we all just live together?" and you cry quietly in the bathroom for all you have lost and the poverty that has crept in to your life and another night of pasta for dinner and the endless oddjobs that you do just to make ends meet when they really aren't meeting at all and your husband, cause we are not divorced yet, sits in your house with your name on the mortgage papers entertaining girlfriends in your dream home in your fancy bed that you bought together because of the painful sciatica you had in the 2nd, 3rd and 4th pregnancies, the bed where you conceived children, the sheets you bought, the blankets your grandmother knitted, the house you made a home, the chicken coop left barren and empty, the yard you tried to beg into submission all left unattended and you brought this all on yourself as you sit lonely and stewing as you sent him away with best wishes and intentions just a few days ago to pursue his life and you think this really sucks.

rant off

I've been holding back.

I've been holding back. I have family, and ex-family-in-law, and friends, and foes, and lovers all reading this thing.

This fucking thing. This blog. It is the dinosaur on my back. I love it so much. The outlet to write. To spew forth. Yet, i have lost it. And tonight. Tonight i am pissed off.

I am pissed off at all the women in their thirties and forties who feel the need to be all boobed up and tightened and highlighted. The men who make this misgiven, mistaken beauty persevere. Ugly eighties porn has become the norm for women who are in their most beautiful, confidant bodies they will ever have search for twenty-something.

Divorce's become desperate, men and women, to go back to who they were in their twenties. Who really wants twenty back? Uncomfortable, unsure, in every single thing you do. Will i succeed? Am i good enough. Am i strong enough. Can i face this world.

In your thirties, whatever your circumstance, you begin to realize that this is it. This is what life is. You can let it all in. Embrace it. The kids, the job, the sex life that matures and becomes boring - ready to be renewed in a thirties body.

And despite whatever i have said - divorce sucks. It really fucking sucks. Starting again. Initially titillating. Quickly becomes another job. Another stress.

And you see yourself out there. And you fancy yourself different. But soon, you are worrying about a life alone. You are not what you thought you might be. You are just another single mother. In a long line of single mothers.

And i am pissed off to be censored, by me, by you.

The thing is i am really ready for spring. I know i am a little wimpy but it snowed all week here and yesterday we woke up to 30cm of snow on the ground. A winter day. In spring. The kids and i all looked out the window and we didn't even want to go out and play. We are tired of the cold, the damp. Our garden is sitting ready to plant. New raised beds built. Plans made.

Winter is tough for most people. It is hard for me. I have spent the last six months going through the motions of a life. A constant trudge through the guck. Working, sleeping, parenting. Thinking that "it will get better, it has to get better." Spring has sat on the horizon with it's promise of new beginnings. Winter was the segue between married and divorced. The long intermission in which we paced back and forth waiting for the second act to start.

The long period of denial has passed. Now i sit alone on the weekends. Part of me relishing the peace and quiet. The moments without children and interruption. Part of me lost without the security blanket of motherhood.

I am terrified of the future now. On the far side of my thirties life is starting again. I have to figure out how i am going to support myself and my children for the rest of it. Will i ever own a home again? Will i find a career? Will i spend the rest of my days trudging through small menial jobs, working for the weekend, for the paycheque. Chained to servitude.

I enjoy being a waitress. I like the escape that the restaurant provides. Completely immersing myself in the stories of the night. The craziness of the service industry. In a strange way it fuels my need for human contact, to be up and alive at night, to create small memories for people. Spending long moments at tables while i make tableside caesar salads and flambés. Chatting away about celebrations and the marking of special events in lifetimes.

I wish it was an occupation that was more accepting of maturity. Female servers are rarely in their 40's. It is a profession built around youthfulness and beauty. It makes me cringe to think, for the first time in my life, i am getting old. The thought of finding another job or going back to school makes me weary. Bone tired.

This week my kids are on their second week of spring break. I am running a spring break camp at the school. All five of us are dragging our sleepy butts out of bed at 7am every morning to come and play for ten hours a day. Many parts of me are wondering what the heck i was thinking spending long days taking care of 12 children.

But, when we roll in to bed completely exhausted at 8 pm and sleep soundly i know we are having great days.

It is a good reminder for me, looking after other children. It reminds me that my children are just as happy, and in many ways happier, than other kids. They have their little quirks. But they are filled with challenges, love and activity. They are great little humans who are confidant about their places in the world.

There are better ways we could spend our break. We could be in hawaii. But this place? The school they are completely comfortable at, surrounded by friends and wide open fields? This is perfect childhood bliss for them.

As i was wandering through my day with the kids i realized how much i have missed this year. I have been so tired, so sad, so overwhelmed, so busy. In many ways this year has been a blur.

If you ask me about BlogHer last summer i have barely a story, barely a memory.

I looked at eliza today, really looked. And my god that girl has grown. She has blossomed. She is reading. She is growing in to that red-headed feisty cliché. She stands her ground with me more than any of my other children. She dares me to be angry with her while smiling that freckle-faced dimpled grin that she was born with.

And what happened? What happened to the year. I have memories here and in photos. But, my mind draws a blank when i try to think of little moments.

I remember her as a baby and a toddler. All chubby goodness and giggling grins. Days and weeks in the hospital with her. Allergies and asthma. Failure to thrive. Worry.

And here she is now. Today. Such a beautiful, wonderful little girl. My shadow, my reflection. It is so difficult to show her how much i love her when she drives me so crazy with her confidence.

And it makes me a little sad to see them growing so quickly. The threads of babyhood and toddlers long broken. Me so wrapped up in my own pain and change, missing the little nuances.

I need to slow down again. Life is here, right in front of me. I need to wake up. I need to stop beating myself up about everything i don't have and can't do. I need to be present again before it is all done.

There is this family i know. Three children, two boys and a girl. Grown, in their twenties. Their parents split up when they were young. The family is well known in the community.

The kids, the siblings they still hang around together. They are friends and go out of their way to spend time together. They help each other through good times and hard times, they move each other in and out of houses. They go on vacations together. They watch out for each other.

I look at them longingly, enviously and hopefully. I don't have that with my siblings, but i hope so much for it for my children.

Spring break is hard because it's hours upon hours together. The kids play. The kids fight.

Last night parker was frightened to go to bed without me there, but i wasn't ready for bed. Toby hopped in with him and rubbed his back till he fell asleep and then fell in to sleep and dreams himself. When i went to bed they were snuggled up together. Looking like two babies. Two brothers. So similar, but so different. Loving each other.

I kept them side-by-side and i squished in beside them. I barely slept. Aside from lack of space and little bony limbs poking me through the night i kept waking to watch them. Knowing that these moments are rare. The harmony, the innocence of sleep, the calmness of their sleeping faces. Soft and round.

It was beautiful to me.

I've been running. I've been running for so long. Running to find something. Running from something.

I realized it this weekend when i had a moment. A small moment. I was confronted with all my faults. My children's faces shining in front of me. I understood what this side of my personality has cost us. My family. They have suffered through my fidgeting through the years. Always antsy for something more. Something else. Never really seeing what i had right in front of me.

The children are on spring break. Their dad dropped them off early this morning, still in their pajamas. I was tired from late nights at work. I really wanted to just curl up and ignore the world for the day. But they had expectations and they were all in great moods.

All these sweet faces jumping on me in my bed. Kissing me. Telling me the tales of their weekend. It was one of those mornings where i really wished i could just embrace them, the moment, the day. I just couldn't. Today i just felt tired. The whirlwind of work when i don't have the kids. Late nights. Early mornings. I just wanted to be alone. For a day. A week.

It was the first time i can ever remember feeling that way. Like i just didn't want to be a parent today.

Life has been a little hard lately. I hesitate to even speak of hard things now. I fear the worrying gaze of "you should be on medication." The little doubts i hold about that in my own head.

Truth be told i really don't feel any different now that i am free and clear of mood stabilizers. My moods are still the same. Radically shifting. Deeply introspective.

I have spent so much of my life wrapped up in my own thoughts. I have been quiet, introverted my whole life. I don't know how to talk. I don't know how to say what i am thinking. It's like i have this film constantly playing in my head at a thirty second delay:

When i just yelled at toby - right then - i could feel his pain. i could see him shriveling. why did i do that. kiss him. good. now tell him your sorry.

why are you asking me how i feel about you. can't you see it. it's right here, right in front of you. can't you hear what i'm thinking. stop looking away. stop biting your lip. just speak. why can't you speak. why are the words so easy in my head. i should just write a letter. that would be easier. that's right just get up and leave. it's easier this way

I have been questioning every single decision i made this year. Am i really better off now? I just don't know the answer. It is eating at me. Making me physically sick. My stomach is a wringing mess. All acid and bitter.

4x4

4 Jobs I've Had (this year)

~mother to four screaming, lovely beasts 4, 6, 8 and 10 years old
~worked at a tasting bar at a winery
~waitress
~substitute educational assistant

4 TV Shows I watch

~Kitchen Nightmare
~Sesame Street
~big black screen
~no #4

4 Places I’ve Been (this year)

~chicago
~port renfrew
~vancouver
~the ocean

4 Music Artists I’m Listening to Right Now

Oracular Spectacular - MGMT
Humminah - Kim Barlow
Juno Soundtrack
Sigur Ros - Hvarf - Heim

Each time i hear of another family crumbling. Separating. It breaks my heart a little.

Seven months in to this situation i have only a little perspective. The hardest part is done. People tell me that at least. The initial shock and heartbreak, anger and resentment, hatred and love - having run their course. Like a death. The stages of grief. Losing a family in the way you were used to, it is like a death. The death of a dream of a life of happiness. Children growing, and graduating and blossoming. Adventure and retirement. Slowly growing old together. Becoming bickering and loving elderly couples sitting on the park bench. Giggling, holding hands.

All of those dreams vanish. You attempt to make new dreams. But it is nearly impossible to visualize a future that doesn't exist. That you have no idea who the characters might be. Terrifying. Thinking of yourself old and grey. Sitting alone on that bench.

I don't have any answers to the questions that plague me lately. The worry. Is this what it will be now. Is there something more for me. Will love find me. Give me a tender, wrinkled hand to hold. Someone to share a cup of coffee with on a blossoming spring day.

Aside from my poor kitty i have been battling the stomach flu since sunday. Holy heck i never knew such stink could come from me. The cramping, the nausea, the headaches. Yuck.

So, i'm walking around looking just like parker up there. Those frown lines between his eyes? Totally come from me.

I feel horrible and there are things i want to write, instead i find myself falling in to bed with parker at 8 every night.

It's been a rough few days. My little cat, Hobbes, was hit by a car on friday morning. He died instantly. The woman who hit him had the wonderful heart to knock on my door and tell me. I went and scooped him up and wrapped him in a towel and placed his body in a basket and left him on my front steps for an hour or so until the kids woke up.

I was so nervous. So scared. Having to deal with this all by myself. But i did.

I told the kids right away and they cried for awhile and we talked a bit about death and all those questions. I asked them what they wanted to do with him and if they wanted to see him. They were stoic and graceful and brave. We found a perfect spot at the back of the yard, under the shade of the trees and amidst the blossoming snowdrops. I dug a hole and got the boys to collect a pile of bricks while the girls transplanted some more flowers nearby.

Then i picked up Hobbes's broken body in the towel and asked them if they were sure they wanted to see him, not really sure i did, warned them that there was blood. They wanted to. I opened the towel and we all cried and pet him and gave him kisses. It wasn't frightening or scary. It was sad and beautiful and we all felt better to say goodbye.

We buried him shortly after. Piling leaves and flowers on top of him and making a circle of bricks around him. We can see him from the kitchen window. The spring sun shining on his flowers. We miss him very much.