On The Sixth Day Of Christmas

Meet the family. I tried to protect you from this, but I figure now is as good a time as any. This is but a small sampling of one side of my clan.

These were happier days when my folks were still married and actually seemed to like one another.

These holiday get together were loud. It was goofy. It was family.


Where do I even begin…..

My cousin and I were ga-ga over our older cousin’s boyfriend. Just look at the cow eyes my cuz is giving him. 


I saw him first! Bitch!

Here is a pic of me and grandma Jessie. Dad felt a photo op brewing right in the throes of sugar fueled fun.


Say cheese……

Have a great evening folks!




On The Fifth Day Of Christmas

Ok so the jig was up the moment I saw “Santa” walk in. I knew it was my uncle Russel.

The little girl sitting on my mom’s lap is his daughter. If you think she looks scared, you would be correct. She did not appreciate the jolly man with the beard at all.


Here’s what the camera did not capture: complete screaming like a banshee meltdown, hands flapping in an attempt to either swat him away or take out an eye.


Melt down in 3..2..1..

I, on the other hand, was happy with my drowsy doll,  regardless of the bogus Santa situation. Mom did not raise any fools. Take the gift and run like the wind, kid.


Question: why is my dress so short and who is the groovy Beatles wanna be kid in back of me??

Have an awesome Friday, all!

On The Fourth Day Of Christmas

Here is where my love of Christmas decorations all began. Mom and dad would take me to the high end department stores downtown to see the window displays. These are some of my favourite childhood memories. I’m so grateful to dad for always having his camera in tow.

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Don’t you just love black and white photos? I think I prefer them to coloured ones. So classic.

Have a great day, all.

On The Third Day of Christmas…

I was going to write about the frustrations surrounding my family the day after Christmas, but decided against it. I could go into every detail that got under my skin, but what’s the point? I’ve just resigned myself to the fact that the “normal” family get together I have playing in my head just does not exist when it comes to three of us. Dwelling on it just makes me feel worse. Long story short; this will never change.

So, instead of staying stuck in a miserable state, I decided to focus on happier times. I will be posting old pics of Christmas past.

I remember this like it was yesterday. Dad was an avid photographer. I always had a camera in my face. On this evening I was trying to watch a Christmas special on television and he was desperately trying to get me to look into the camera.

Thanks for the memories, pops.

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Merry Stress-mas

First order of business, Merry Christmas to you all. I hope you had a wonderful time with family friends.

To be perfectly honest with you, Christmas for me this year was a bit of a let down.  In my head, the holidays are such a pleasant time of year. In reality though, my mom does stuff that drives me batshit crazy and adds to my stress. Every. Time.  I wish she was a bit more ”normal”.

It all started with an unwelcomed guest  and it’s been kind of downhill from there.

For starters, I was supposed to pick my mom up at her place early on the 24th.  I had no problem doing so. In order to save time, I labored over my home-made tourtiere (which takes about 2 hours to make) on the evening of the 23rd.

Ring Ring! Mom calls, change of plans, her brother is going to drive her here.  They live in the same building. Wonderful! Right? Wrong. PS – it never fails, whenever I have a plan to do something a certain way, she always comes up with an alternate plan, just for shits ‘n giggles.

Instead of taking my time to finish cleaning my apartment and bake sugar cookies for some little ones at church, I ended up playing “find the lost senior citizens” on the island of Montreal.

Once found, I invited my uncle up for a coffee.  What am I gonna do?  Thanks, get out of here? That would be rude.  So, an hour later, he left.  He had good intentions, but I had no idea he had no GPS and zero clue how to get here. There is so much construction and detours lately, it’s not surprising he got lost.

So then, I had to prepare my chicken (and it’s a good thing I did, keep reading). Mom has a habit of needing to be EXACTLY where I am trying to cook.  Oh, now she’s hungry. Now she’s thirsty. Can she help?  Now she will do the dishes. So, that slowed me down some more.

Needless to say, sugar cookies were not baked.  I had to text my friend and apologize and gave her a rundown of my morning.

I headed off to church for 4pm, alone, because my family still does not get how important it is to me that they show up.  They both act like they are being led to slaughter and then run out of the place like bats out of hell.

During sermons, mom picks at her nails, looks around like she’s lost, makes deep sighing noises, yawns, keeps checking her watch, asks me when it is going to end, etc. Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that they did not come.  It still hurts though.

I came home after service and as we are sitting in the living room, waiting for the tourtiere and roast chicken to finish cooking, it happened.  Angus McKitten casually strolled into the living room with….the mouse. He plopped it in the middle of the room and sat there looking at us as if to say “voila!”

The mouse was injured, but alive and very disoriented. We did not have the heart to kill it, so instead, we put it in a little box with a piece of bread and some fabric to keep it warm. We walked to the park and placed the box, with the top slightly opened on top of a trash can. It seemed like the least cruel thing to do.

When we got back, mom was itching to get dinner on the table.  If dinner is not served at 5pm, she starts acting squirrel-y.  As per usual, she has to take charge. She just could not wait for me to mash the potatoes, so decided she was going to do it.  I had placed my tourtiere on the cutting board to cool off.

Next thing you know, we hear “plop” and my mother screams from the kitchen that she dropped the tourtiere on the floor.  How did this happen?  Well, she didn’t want to mash the potatoes directly on the counter (what’s the difference?), and decided she was going to move my touriere off of the cutting board.   Then she upended the whole fucking thing on the floor. Since it was still very hot, it was a big un-salvageable puddle. Nice.

I can’t tell you how many times she has stolen my thunder in an act of silliness or poor judgement.  There are days that I wonder if she is doing it on purpose.

I kept my cool, walked over to look at the damage, and then walked away and sat in the living room.  I let the two of them clean it up; I was done.  It was a very uncomfortable dinner.  Thank God I defrosted a chicken. We tried to make light of the situation by cracking jokes, but she was getting mad at us.  Go figure.

The next day was just mom and me.  Towards the end of the day she started doing what she usually does; knit-pick and “make suggestions” on how I should do everything.  I was getting fed up and at one point she says to me “Oh, nothing I do is every right by you”.

Pardon my French, but are you fucking kidding me right now?!? Normally I would let that slide, but enough’s enough. I reminded her that I think I’ve been pretty patient this weekend, all things considered, and that comments like that were not welcomed.

Honestly, I don’t know why we continue this frustrating charade year after year.  When I go to her house, she acts normal. When she comes here, she does this type of stupid shit.

This morning was a real doozie, but stay tuned.  I will post more tomorrow. There is only so much I can write as re-telling this has exhausted me.

So, as much as I hate to admit it, my Christmas really sucked this year.

Hope yours was better!



A Most Horrible Day

Today was an incredibly crap-tastic one.  I can barely stand to write about it because it makes me relive it all over again.  The prodigal called early in the morning to see if I felt like tagging along as he starts his apartment hunt.

To my great surprise, he has already received his first payment  from employment insurance.  Wow! That was record breakingly fast. I’m impressed.

Here’s what’s not so impressive about that, though; the amount.  I’m really hoping that it is because it covers only one week with a deduction because he had to declare some income received from his employer.

If not, then he cannot afford to go out and rent his own flat. So, he is stressing.  He is trying to figure out everything all at the same time; how much money he will be receiving, will he find a decent apartment, he needs appliances, how much will heating cost, on and on and on.

Pardon my French, but my nerves are fucking shot.  I really needed to relax and recoup these next two weeks off of work.  I’m so exhausted I can feel my heart beat in my own chest.  When he stresses like this, it’s like it’s happening to me.  I’m an empath by nature. I suck up whatever energy is around me like a sponge.

Because all of that was not stressful enough, I walked into the kitchen this morning and found an uninvited visitor.  A mouse. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHNONONONONO!

Angus McKitten had caught him, but didn’t quite know what to do with it, so he was playing catch and release with it. I felt like I was going to both throw up and shit myself at the same time. Whaaaaat is going on lately?  Is this some type of bad karma coming after me?

So it scurried off into my little office that I’m working so hard to set up and make it all pretty and comfortable.  This mouse is a dick. I feel so uncomfortable in here as I’m typing because I have no idea where he is.  I had him cornered while I was waiting for my son to come over and help.  We almost caught him but he got away and squeezed into the heater and is somewhere in the walls, I’m assuming.


Heeeeere mousie mousie mousie, come on out!

The exterminator cannot make it here before some time next week. In the mean time I went to Canadian Tire to get some mousetraps.  I just could not bring myself to buying one of those cruel spring/snap ones.  I hate that this rodent is in here, but my heart is still soft and I don’t want to kill. So I bought those sticky glue traps.  I still don’t like the idea, but it’s better than decapitation and suffering?  I ordered a humane mousetrap on Amazon.  It should be here by Sunday, hopefully.

My anxieties are at an all time high.  All I want to do right now is sleep and wake up when everything has been sorted out.  I know things will turn out ok and this is just a phase.  We have all been there or something similar at some point, haven’t we?  I know I have.  Watching someone you love go through it is brutal.  I’m doing my best to encourage my beloved prodigal, but it is not easy.  How can I convince someone that everything will be ok if I am a nervous wreck myself? I’m so tired….



It Should Come Naturally

Hey good morning all.  So, the latest on my prodigal’s situation.  I was just settling at work yesterday when he called me.  He needed my opinion on something regarding the live-in ex.

He had just come back from dropping off her little son at daycare.  That alone, in my humble opinion, shows a great deal of maturity and decency.  Anyway, he has gotten to know some of the daycare providers pretty well and one in particular often chats him up regarding the little guy.

My son, (let’s call him “A” moving forward) let the daycare provider know the he and the boy’s mother were parting ways and that at some point he will no longer be picking up/ dropping off the boy.

She told him he has shown so much kindness and seems to genuinely love the boy.  She went as far as to say that A has shown more interest and care than his actual mother and father.

The little tyke bounces back and forth to the great-grandmother’s and to the father’s and paternal grandmother’s on a regular basis. He is actually “home” only about three days a week, and is never home on the weekends with his mom. I can’t even imagine….

Anyhoo, daycare lady said that she just doesn’t understand the boy’s mother; she doesn’t seem excited when picking him up after a three or four day absence.

So, the million dollar question A had for me yesterday…He wanted to know if the love of a child was something that could grow on a mother or was it a “it’s either in you or it’s not” scenario.

My answer: See this pic below?  Twenty-six years ago, that was pretty much love at first sight for me.


This is what unconditional love looks like.

My heart hurts for him right now.  I know he is trying to find some type of redeeming hope for the type of mom she could be for any possibility of future children of his, but I think the writing is pretty much on the wall.

Having raised him as a single mom since he was two, trust me when I say I am in no means trying to vilify her.  I know how hard it can be and I know of the silent judgments and blanket assumptions some make.

It’s such a shame, this situation.  Things were good for the three of them for a while, but friends with bad influences got in the way.  That will be for another post though.

I wish I had a magic wand and could wave it over all of them and make this situation better and everyone gets a happy ending.  So hard, as a parent, to watch young adults learn some hard life lessons.  My prayer life has gotten amped up by quite a few notches of late! lol!

Have a great Friday, all.