He texts me song lyrics, he kisses me all the time, even in public (which I really love) and he holds my hand in bed when we’re watching a movie.

Of course, with this wonderfully romantic streak there is also a silly one.  We have a lover’s board game that has never been played, but was purchased, I think, purely for the activity cards.  Not that we need help in that department (hellooooo five children!) but because they were funny.  We can be all cuddled up in bed, snuggling, reading or just lying quietly and he will turn to me and romantically ask if he can poke me in the face.  Or pick my nose.

Anyway, this weekend he did the grocery shopping with two of the kids and on their way back, they stopped at the dollar store for some stuff. This one has a project that needs poster board, that one has something or other to organise, this one needs a new calculator, etc, etc.  Sheesh, kids are such a HUGE money suck.

Anyway, they came home and we collectively put away the groceries when I noticed the dollar store bag on the floor.  My daughter Aislinn (13) told him to show me what he got for us there.

It was one of those velcro ball dart boards.

for lovers….

Ash found it incredibly funny, and I found it hilariously tacky.

I mean, “blow in partner’s ear”!?!?  Who the eff actually likes that??  Not me.  And check out some of the other ones.  So lame.  But good for a giggle, and hey, it only cost a dollar.  Who am I to argue with that?

Since we were in our kitchen and I was finishing up dishes and we had a wicked awesome supper to put on, he left it sitting on the landing of the back stairs where we forgot about it.

Roll on with the evening.  A movie was watched, much hilarity ensued over the case of three of the five kids having a problem with gas that was on par, smell wise, with the dogs; which is really impressive.  The dogs frickin REEK!

There was a debate about a poster hubs and kids had seen in the grocery store for golden lab puppies and why we are catagorically NOT getting a fourth dog.  There was a lot of happy kids and happy parents and happy dogs all smushed under blankets in the living room until we all started to filter off to bed.

And then….

As bargains are being had about staying up just those last five more minutes and as parents are reminding kids to brush teeth and for god sakes get into bed and stop talking, my 11 year old daughter Kathryn went downstairs to get something she had forgotten.  A stuffed animal or something.  When we heard it.

EEEWWWW!  Mawm, what’s up with the wheel of awkwardness on the back stairs???

The wheel of what?  Hubs and I looked at each other with questioning faces.  What in the heck was she talking about?

Oh right.  The dart board.  With the lovey dovey stuff on it.  To be hence forth known as The Wheel of Awkwardness.

It spawned a good few minutes of laughter, and me rolling my eyes at the silly reddish pink plastic balls with velcro on them, but eventually we got everyone to bed.

I have NOT allowed that thing to be hung up in my room, much to the disappointment of the DH, who thinks I can’t take a joke sometimes, but really, since it’s newly christened name, I just can’t.

Plus, I didn’t want to get up in the morning with the pressure of tacky “romantic” tasks on my wall accompanied by balls hanging off it.  Can you really blame me?

Something I had been worried about ever since I heard that the staff had been laid off.  Something I was really dreading.

Our local bookstore, the only independant book retailer in town, the place where I have officially launched both of my released books and the place where I have loved to go, is closing.

As much as I have talked about the issues in the publishing world getting deeper and more problematic, I have always loved, LOVED that there are still a few independant booksellers around and that our town has been blessed with one of the greatest of them.  From bringing in authors for events, to supporting communitiy happenings, to just being the kind of cozy, wonderful place that you want to go, Rose Cottage Books in Tillsonburg is a true gem and a jewel of a store.  And now, by the end of February, it’s going to be another empty shop available for rent or lease.

As the only actual physical, non cyber store where you can buy my books, I am sad to see it go.  As the owner was the most energetic, supportive person I have ever met in the whole book industry, I am heartbroken. 

If you have a local, independently owned bookstore in your area, I encourage you to go there, introduce yourself, buy a book.  Support this rapidly declining industry.

I like to think that I am this really patient, sympathetic, empathetic, emotionally mature person.  In a lot of cases, I am. I have a lot of patience with my kids (for the most part, unless they are breaking windows…Keisha) or painting the wall with an entire tube of toothpaste (oh wait…also Keisha) or using the string from their window blinds as a tarzan rope making them fall and hit their head on the side of the bed causing them to go to the hospital and get stitches. Guess who?  Of course two out of three of those she did when she was really little, and the other one gave her a huge horrendous scar that looked like a botched suicide attempt and so I figured just having to explain that all the time (and pay for half the new window) was probably punishment enough.

I think I got off track.

Patience, right.  Obviously I don’t mean attention spans.  I don’t have one of those…oh look, shiny!!

So, there I was, thinking I was all ‘superior being’ and such, the type of girl who should be your best friend and to whom you should tell all your secrets and gossip with and then compliment on her cool hair, when bam! I found out I’m a total bear.

Without going into details that are probably inappropriate for the blog, I will say this:

I am very reactionary. Send me a nasty email?  Well, I will just fire one off back to you that is way more eloquent, well formed and full of every clever barb I can think of.

Mess with one of my kids? I will place a much rehearsed phone call or personal appearance to the guardian of said offender, be it teacher or parent or grandparent, and sound off right in their face.  Then I will go on a bender at home where I talk too fast and I get all rigid and self righteous and will rant for, well, sometimes for days for as long as it bugs me. 

I need to be right.  I need the last word.  It’s a sickness.

So there I was last night just off a rehearsal for our new theatre show, which by the way, is going to be legend….(wait for it)…dary in it’s brilliance and hilarity. (Oh NPH I love you!!) I came home and did what I always do, I jumped online. 

Oh…hello passive aggressive email. 

What did I do?  Well, I have been trying to work on some stuff that I have, we all have our stuff, so I called the DH up to read it before I responded.  Which turned out to be a good thing.  Because I, the bear who has been thus poked, would have sounded off with a terrible type email berating this person for all that they got wrong in their letter, and then further tossing nasty comments at them. Instead I wound up sending a polite but firm response that was WAY shorter than it would have been had I not had someone run some bear-interference on me. 

This is further proof that the DH is indeed my better half, because it appears he is the only one who can save me from myself.  And dudes, sometimes I clearly need saving.

Now, apart from me writing this post, the other thing I need to do more of is letting things go. 

For the record, that’s really hard for bears.  What with the huge paws and all. Which you’d think would have made me better at basketball. It didn’t.

A subtle shift.

Something powerful is on the move, is on the wind and it’s sweeping its way around the internet and into our homes, into our conversations and to our children and our families and our friends.

Powerful women.  Boy, there sure are a lot of them. 

A couple of times, I have had the distinct pleasure of writing for Curvy Girl Guide, the online magazine for women of all shapes and sizes where we can share and talk and not be judged by one another. The incredible creators of this site Brittany Gibbons and Heather Spohr have found a unique way to put together a cacophony of voices that are speaking to every woman, sometimes even to the men. They are changing the language of love and acceptance and they are doing it in a safe environment. 
Every day that I visit the site to read the new postings, I am amazed by the voices that ring clear on there. Whether they are talking about fashion, cooking, or deep and emotional issues, it is all done in the spirit of sharing and keeping women feeling strong and supported.

When I started my blog, I had every intention of making it all about my writing. But to be frank, sometimes my writing even bores me. When I am blocked, or when I am feeling frustrated with it the last thing I want to do is talk about it on here. So I started to talk about me, my kids, my husband and my dogs. I started to vent about things I was going through and poke fun at myself for things that are silly about me, or at least that I think are silly.  I have shared my battle with depression and anxiety and I have shared when I am going through hard times. I have celebrated milestones of my kids and have absolutely whooped it up when my second book came out and my first was re-released. And you know what? The more I have shared (not the over share’s per se) the more support I feel like I have gotten. 

This whole internet and blogging thing is pretty amazing. I have made new friends, some from far across the world, and even though we have never met, I know that I have found some real kindred spirits out there and some women that I have really connected with.

Check out Curvy Girl Guide, if you haven’t already, and become part of a growing conversation led by some fantastic and amazing women. 

http://www.curvygirlguide.com

We tend to sing….badly, in the car together.  And loudly. But today with the craptacular snow blowing everywhere and the fishtails the van kept doing AND the fact that my brakes locked up twice, I was not so much into the singing thing.  At least not for the whole ride.  But, she persevered.  And I was game, until she pulled out the ipod and tried to record me.  I don’t like myself on camera.  But, she did it anyway.  I think this explains our relationship better than anything.

Fyi, I ONLY tell her to suck donkey balls when the little kids aren’t around.

http://www.youtube.com/user/pretendperfection#p/u/1/NCNUkdLmJXI

Okay, I will be a little more detailed than that.

They suck hard.

Since I went on my new meds, mornings, which have NEVER been my friend, have become totally douche-y.  I feel shaky and not myself for the first bit and sometimes I get really light headed.  But it passes and I can get on with my day.  The only problem is that most mornings I don’t motivate myself to actually get up and push through it. I take the ‘easy’ road and stay in bed as long as possible, just because I can and I drag my sorry ass around only when absolutely necessary.  It’s really no way to be pro active about kicking this issue of mine in the ass, but then again, I have always been one to look for the easy way to do things and not to challenge myself when I am in this kind of a slump.  I’m a great motivator for others and a wonderful cheerleader, but not to myself.  It’s something I’m working on.

The DH, as amazing as he is, is trying his best to help me push through this. He just wants to see me be more active about my own healing process.  So, this morning, he started to text me.

Good morning love

Hi

Reminders: can you please tidy the bedroom and office AND call in about your new prescription today?

OK

Time to get up, love.

Meh

Today is the very first day of the rest of your life. Make it a good one.

Grrrr blargh yech….okay I will try. 

There is no try.  Only do.  *yoda

Yoda was green, wtf did he know?

So was Elpheba (from Wicked) but you would listen to her.

That’s because Elpheba was AWESOME and not just a breathing green raisin. 

So was Oscar the Grouch. Even he got up every morning and did stuff.

Yeah, but he complained a lot. love you

Make today your masterpiece.

I will try, but it feels more like a fingerpainting so far. Hey, why are you talking like posters with kittens on them?

He went on to basically kick my ass into getting up and getting started on my day, which, while I don’t want to do but probably needed help to remember that sometimes it’s not about what I want.  He reminded me that I’m capable and that I *can* make the changes I need to make.  Then he said “good luck, Oscar” and went back to working.

So, good morning, this stinks, but I am going to get my sorry ass up and push through it today.  So there.

Which is sad.

Because I love to write.

And I have sooo much of this book already plotted out and just waiting there to be filled in. AND I really want to finish it.

So, what’s been stopping me?  Weeeeell…..

First, November was kind of tough, there was some shit and it went down. Then December roared in with preparations for Christmas and rehearsals for a new show starting at the theatre, which I am both stage managing and assistant directing, in order to cut my chops before the May show, which I am directing solo style.  I’ll be like Steven Spielberg, only with boobs.  And, you know, working with stage stuff and without the millions of dollars in budget.  Or the awards.  Okay, so I’ll be nothing like Spielberg, but I will still be awesome.  And have boobs.

That is actually quite a relevant factoid, because, as I recently explained to a friend, the boob shirts are actually a well calculated distraction so that nobody pays attention to my ass.  You gotta work with what you have.

Where was I?  Oh yes, the holidays.  Well, of course I haven’t written during the holidays this year.  This was probably the last year my family will celebrate the holidays when we all still live at home. Next year my oldest will be at college, and then my second oldest the year after that. Things change, and they change quickly. So we stayed home this past holiday and just spent as much time with the kids as possible. We stayed up late eating chocolates and playing board games, we watched movies, I learned to appreciate the Lord of the Rings saga as I watched the entire thing with my ten year old.  We laughed, we drank wine (well, not the kids, at least, not the non teenagers) and we just had a great time with one another.

When the holidays ended and the hubs and I went back to work and the kids went back to school, things fell back into their usual pattern but I still wasn’t writing. I just felt terrible and when the snow started to come, I felt worse. I wallowed in feeling crappy and spent a lot of time in my bed.

Then of course there were all the little things that crop up that have to be dealt with.  My 11 year old daughter got her first bra, my 13 year old got new ones (I’m sure they’re going to just LOVE me for sharing that) my other daughter had drama to deal with and talk over with me and get all drama-y about, my son was busy proving his newfound prowess in the kitchen and well, the dogs are insane. 

I find myself having ridiculous conversations with people, sometimes I’m not even aware what we’re talking about, but apparently I’m funny when I do that.  I laughed so hard the other night with friends that I actually started cough/barking/honking.  I sounded like a demented cross breed between a goose and a 16 year old dog.  I’m sure it was *super* sexy.  NOT. 

This morning I got an invoice from my local book store, the one that is carrying my books and sadly, the last bunch of them just aren’t really moving.  Sigh.  But, I am up on Kindle now and hope to be on Kobo by the end of the month. This quest to be a writer is sometimes a hill that looks too daunting to climb, but I am sure the momentum will pick back up with me again anytime now. At least I hope it will. In the meantime I can laugh at my dumb dogs behaving like demented snow angels, can laugh with my kids and the fact that whenever I tell one of them to pull up their pants lately, I’m getting mooned in my own house. I can laugh with my theatre friends whenever they say the line from the show “we got a hot stiff on our hands” (oh theatre, you are so effing funny) and I can laugh with my hubs when we lie in bed late at night and poke each other in the sides when we’re too overtired to sleep. Mostly, I am learning to laugh at myself and with myself, when I feel like I’m failing but realize that life is just taking me on a detour. You have to laugh, especially when you’re feeling slump-ish.

 I have to laugh.