This feeling....

I have this feeling. I have had it for quite awhile now. The feeling is that we are not going to go to Kenya or adopt from Kenya. It just doesn't feel real.

Until now... I've consistently tried to push it away.

When I was pregnant with my first, I really wanted a girl... so I convinced myself that I was having a boy. Yep, I was so good at convincing myself, that I didn't even believe the Doctor when she was born!

Every day, I wait for the bomb to drop. We're not approved. We can't source the remaining money. Nairobi breaks out into a war zone. Seriously, I expect the worst... and am really doing very little to prepare for the possibility of going.

We should be listing our house for rent for approximately Aug.... we should actively be seeking a home for our dog etc. I don't even buy baby clothes! I think my heart has been crushed one too many times in this process and I just don't have a lot of faith in it anymore. I'm very concerned about preparing and putting all of my eggs into that basket... when I feel there is such a good chance that anything could go wrong. I'm not sitting at the helm, driving this ship... and that likely is another reason why I lack faith in this process.

So far we have been pulled out of the Ethiopian program that I really gave my heart to, many things have changed along the way. Things that we expected are no longer... or are different. I don't feel like I can rely on anything I am told. We just found out that an infant under 12 months is not an option for adoption any more. I'm just waiting to be told that we were only approved for 1 child, and then I'm expecting to be matched with a 2 yr old boy instead of a girl... and if we have actually made it that far... I'm sure riots will break out and travel will be unsafe.

I know... put out positivity and the universe will give it back. I've resisted this long in even acknowledging these feelings. I'm just being honest though.... I don't know if it's just plain negativity, premonition of what's to come, or self preservation of my sanity.

Perhaps something good will come of it now, like the feeling will go away, or perhaps a year down the road when we have our little one home... someone reading this, (who is experiencing the same feelings) will be encouraged.

(Take that Universe - I did say ' in a year from now when we have our little one home'! Take note.)

I have come to realize...

That my son's inaccurate recollections of the past are based on current events.

Mister came home just beaming from Boy Scouts last night. He was so excited how they are going to be going 'box' camping soon. (They each get a fridge or stove box to decorate, then they camp overnight in the box in the lodge.) I mentioned that Daddy will go camping with him and his response was...

"I know. I want Daddy to come because he does everything with me and you don't."

Well I'll be...  After I picked my jaw up from the floor I asked him, "Seriously?!"

"Yeah... you don't."

"Well... what about, ... ummm...uh, ... (DAMN - Busted!) I do arts and crafts with you..."

"Oh, not very often..."

And then it led from one thing to another, and before I knew it, we were actually arguing about who used to take him to preschool! Despite the fact that it was me 98% of the time, he seems to have stored away the memories of the few times that Hubby took him. Same followed suit with the one time that Hubby volunteered with his Kindergarten class, despite my weekly volunteering etc... etc...

As a 2 parent family with 2 children of different sexes... I think we likely fit into that family of 4 2/2 split mold. When the children were little, and we were all together, I would wrangle Mister as an infant and Hubby would take Muffin. I think it's normal that the Mother primarily parents the youngest. Then, as they got older - and Mister became too heavy for me to comfortably carry and Muffin's stubbornness challenged the hubby, we switched... and it has remained that way ever since. Now, the separation seems to be out of common gender and interests etc. For example, now that the kids are older, I take Muffin to the bathroom and Hubby will take Mister. Hubby does Hockey and Boy Scouts with Mister and I do Gymnastics and Girl Guides with Muffin.

So despite the fact that I am the primary parent, I am the one who makes their lunches, get them up in the am., helps them with their homework, etc... I really don't do a whole lot of 'fun' stuff with the Mister.

I have noticed lately that Mister seems to swooning over Hubby... lots of hugs and cuddles, which is fantastic... and I think it is stemming from the extra time that Hubby has spent with him over the holidays. Several road hockey games, bobsled track making, snow shoveling etc. To my defense (and a weak one at that), I did go out one afternoon and played with them in the snow, but the rest of the time I was up to my elbows in baking, cooking or entertaining. I did get a chance to spend some good time with Muffin, decorating, baking, painting our nails, doing her hair etc... while Mister was spending time with Daddy. Although... I did spend a couple of hours on Christmas Day playing lego with Mister, I don't think it was enough.

It only makes sense that if Mister thinks this way, then surely Muffin must feel the same about Daddy? The last thing either of us wants is for any one of our children to think that we didn't put any effort into spending time with them. I need to step it up.

Mister's 2 big activities and passions right now is hockey (have I ever mentioned how much I HATE this sport?) and Boy Scouts. Neither I have much interest in, or feel I have a place in - Boy Scouts is a 'male' thing. I either have to involve myself into some road hockey games (Uggg.. yuck) or find something else to do with him that will 'count'. And the same goes for Hubby and Muffin.

While it is natural for there to be a bit of a gender separation, I think we need to blur the lines a bit. Mister may not be interested in decorating, or baking the way Muffin is... so I will have to start being interested in what he is interested in. (As much as any hockey involvement may just kill me!)

Preschool gymnastics with Mister.

Truth Tuesday Link up with The Chaos and the Clutter

He's my Super Hero and I'm his Evil Witch...

Yes, I have a Caregiver for a husband. No, not on a professional level... just on a personal level.

He devotes himself to looking after others. No, there are no qualifications... you just need to come across his path!

He is the guy who will give the shirt off his back in a January snowstorm in the middle of the Arctic. (And honestly that is likely an understatement - he would probably take his pants off too...)

Obviously, this is one of the largest reasons I was attracted to him!

He is often described as the nicest person anyone knows. I don't think he has one enemy! You can't 'not like' this man! (like my double negative?)

The problem is...

Often, he doesn't take care of himself.

and

Often, he gets taken advantage of or used.

However - he is also the type of person who's glass is always full even when it clearly is half full ( or empty ) - that would NEVER acknowledge that this happens.

His motto is quite admirable in that, at the end of the day he wins - because helping others makes him happy and happiness is the most important thing. (But at what cost?)

Walk in human, realist me (witch)...  and everything has a value. Yes, happiness is the greatest thing of all! However, other things do need looking after as well... or they will start to overflow in your cup of happiness and turn it rancid. I'm sorry... but that's just reality. There needs to be a healthy balance.

Sometimes, we (being me and the children)... catch a bit of rancid dribble overflow. Over the years, we have learned to support him and are so lenient that we can do double back bends... BUT... still, every now and then - I have to be the reality check (aka Witch). It's not a nice job... in fact it probably doesn't do anything for my positive thinking program, as I feel like I have to do all the negative thinking. With a cackle and a point of a finger... I am the bubble burster!

FACT - If this man of mine had no wife or children - he would spend the rest of his life serving others. He wouldn't need anything to call his own - and what he did have, he would give away. And when that ran out - I could even go as far to say that he would go into debt to give more. Why that sounds almost like a Munk... okay, so yes... my man would be a Munk... a  Super Hero Munk.

Over the years, I have seen some pretty wild and crazy things that my man has done for others... sometime at the expense of himself in more ways than one.

When I met him... he was spending 50% of his free time doing 'honey do' lists  and favors for others. Why? Ummm... not because they couldn't do it themselves, or afford to hire someone - simply, because they asked. Unfortunately though - these were not one time favors - they were numerous and frequent. They obviously manifested from a one time favor to a full fledged small book of favors. Sometimes, he would even have to travel quite a long way to complete these 'honey do's and sometimes, one task could take all day and cost him out of pocket expenses. But, he can't say no - it's just not his nature.

Now if it were me, I'd be like - "Excuse me? You want me to unplug your crap filled toilet...?! (..And you are completely capable!?) Seriously?! Are you flippin nuts!? Umm... I think I will let you unplug your own toilet... thanks for the offer though!"  or... "Perhaps I can recommend a good plumber...?" No, I don't think that makes me a Witch! - I think that makes him too nice! Is there such a thing though? No. (Yes!)
(Yes, this is a true story! He has done this - and on more than one occasion. A testament to his undying service as a Super Hero.)

Everyone thinks my man is rich. Why? Because he spends it (on others) like he gots it! (like my bad grammar?) He's not only at your service - but he will foot the bill too! It doesn't mean that he can afford it. It simply means that he doesn't want to ask you for it. He's being nice.

My man has, no doubt built an entire house in favors, from landscaping, to tiling the bathroom floors, to installing the toilets, to hanging the screen doors and picture frames! However, he has never lived in a house that is complete. By complete, I mean all the painting done, lights installed, and baseboard applied etc... This is a 2 part equation - partly because he is always busy helping everyone else with their projects, and partly because he will not ask anyone for help. Ever.

The sad thing is that really, he shouldn't need to ask them for help... they should be at our door offering! (Quiet.. lil Witch..;-)

We have learned - okay I have learned - (the children grew up with it) to just accept it and roll with it.

This is a daily thing for him... not just a weekly thing - daily.

Let me just summarize one of his days. Saturday. We have an appointment to drive to a town that is just over an hour away to pick up a hospital bed for his Father. However, this is also the only day that anything is ever open here - so we also have to get all household chores and errands on this day as well.

 Let me back up by saying that our dogs and cats have also been without food for a week. Our pet store here closes at 5:30 every day - and typically I get it, however - Dan, being the nice guy he is - has lent his company vehicle to a staff member who doesn't have a vehicle. (See a trend here?) So now he has to drive my vehicle. This then forced him to have to pick up a can of pet food every night... thinking that he would have time the following day to buy the food.

Okay - so Saturday am, he takes Mister to hockey first thing in the am. He comes home and quickly tells me that he is going to go help the Boy Scouts clean up the hall as they will certainly need his truck to go to the dump. (Parents are supposed to rotate their volunteering support - but this is the 3rd Saturday in a row that he has been the main volunteering presence there. He is the one that gets things done. He knows it, and therefore feels more obligated to go.)

Okay, I thought... as I recall that I was unable to walk down the steps in my garage for all the bags of recycling and garbage that have built up.

 I let him know he has to be back at 1, so we can go get his Dad's bed. 1 oclock, he arrives back and we quickly run to make our 3pm pickup. We get back in town around 4:30 and he calls one of his employees to ask him if he would like a ride home. Confused, I ask him if we are not supposed to be delivering and installing this bed. Yes, but his employee needs a ride. This is where I have to put my Witch hat on and explain to him that we cannot always drop everything for everybody. This employee is older than me. He is paid very well. He has choices. He can buy a vehicle, he can walk, or he can call a cab on his cell phone. AND on top of that all... he was hired with the promise that he would be able to get to and from the jobsite on his own. But - Dan has already offered. So, I request to be dropped off at his parents so I can at least get started as we are coming up to dinner time - and there is not a lot of room in the truck for an extra person anyway. 30+ minutes later, Dan arrives. It is now after 5pm and he realizes that he missed the petstore - again.

We disassemble his Dad's old bed and put the new one together. We finish, make the bed, help his Mom get dressed and haul the old bed out at 7pm.

Our tummies are now gurgling and demanding food. We go home and decide that it is too late to cook something, so we order food. Dan for some oddball reason, does not like delivery - he prefers to pick it up himself. So off he goes to not only pick up our food, but food for the animals as well.

 45 minutes later, he comes flying through the door... puts the food down and tells me that he has to run. There are two young girls who are broken down and need rad fluid. (Don't ask me how... him to a 'problem' is like a fly to shit - he'll find it anywhere. Ha! I think I should sew him a Super Hero outfit so he can do a quick change in the vehicle!) Of course, this does not surprise us at all.. no questions asked. So the kids and I eat. I quickly take note of our begging dogs and think to myself that my man has likely forgotten the dog food.

I give him a call on his cell phone to remind him... but no answer. 30 minutes later, (his food cold now) he arrives back home, kicks off his shoes and comes upstairs. All 3 of us at the same time say "You forgot the dog food..."

Back out he goes for a run to the corner store.

Later that night, he was telling me how many loads to the dump he had done. I quietly say, without even looking his way... "How much did that cost you?" and he then launches into the usual defensive pose... "Well, it was much less than I expected... the fridge didn't weigh that much...." etc, etc... (What I forgot to ask him was - how much the rad fluid cost! ;)

As much as it can get so aggravating... I know that I wouldn't love him as dearly if he wasn't this way. Over the years, I have found it much less stressful to just let him do his thing. It does get very hard however when I see it starting to take a toll on him. And I do have to put my foot down (and don the witch hat!) when I notice other's taking advantage of him on a consistent basis or when it is having a negative effect on him or our family.

What he doesn't understand is that in his service to others, he is unable to cap it or control it. Soon it starts to consume him and then he goes from feeling great for helping someone out to being run down and stressed because he can't do it all, and he doesn't know how to stop it, how to say no or how to reprogram others in his life.

He can't be everything for everybody... but yet he will insist he can. He is the caretaker to his employees, (*to most everyone he deals with on a daily basis), and to his family... so I guess it's my place to be his caretaker - put on my 'Witch' hat and ensure he is getting looking after somewhere in the mix!

The Super Hero Husband has read and approved of this post, with the exception of specific references of people to whom I've had to re categorize *

His comment was simply a laugh... the laugh that means he thinks my delusional thoughts are funny - because this simply is not a true recollection of reality. (His anyway...;) This is my Tuesday Truth... as I see it. ;)
Linking up with:

Let's get real - and - what I really want to say.

It's Tuesday, so let's be truthful.

When I first started this blog I wasn't quite sure what direction it would take. It was initially started as an adoption journey journal. Many people keep several blogs. One for adoption, one for homeschooling, one for recipes etc. I don't homeschool (yet), but I do have other interests and passions. Certainly not deserving or interesting enough to require their own blog however. So, I have decided that this blog will simply just resemble me! With a main focus on adoption, and other bits and pieces thrown in for good measure! I am a researcher at heart, granola wannabe, and I think I'm a decent cook - so from time to time, I will throw out some product recommendations, green ideas, and some recipes. Because...the truth is, I would do the same thing if you were sitting here in my kitchen having tea. (or wine ;)

Another thing which I have teetered back and forth on... is about how real I should present myself. And here are my thoughts.

You know those blogs... the ones where the person behind the keyboard eats glitter for breakfast and lunch?

Where nothing bad ever happens?

They live in a fluffy world where the glass is always full?

The ones that make you want to vomit in your mouth?

Yeah.. those ones.

Well, here's the thing... I don't think they help anyone really. It certainly can't help the writer to be in denial about reality - not ever able to unleash some dissatisfaction. (Every therapist will tell you, journaling is good... get your feelings out!) AND - I know, as a reader it really actually only makes me feel bad about myself or my situation.

No... the fluff doesn't rub off, it just aggravates.

What does make me feel better is to read that others share in my own miseries. To hear of their shitty experiences and how they overcame them! And let's be truthful - if you are not being honest and truthful about your adoption (etc.), your experience - then really, you are misleading others, and you are not helping. In fact, you could be causing damage. Most people blog to journal or to help and inspire others... Fluff does not have category. Sorry.

So, here I am in all my glory. (No bells, whistles or firecrackers... lol) What you see is what you get. In my everyday life I live authentically. I think everyone should own and accept who they are. I don't have a secret me, or a different personality behind closed doors or with different people. If I'm angry with the hubby for example, you will know it. If I am excited, I can't contain it. If I have a problem, I will voice it. The thing is - it is what it is, and nothing else. I'm not perfect and I'm not afraid to admit it. I have nothing to hide. I realize this may rub people the wrong way, and I'm okay with that too... cause I can only be what I am. I won't put on a facade because that's what I think you want to see. It's more important to me that I am content with who I am, and knowing that I live my life as genuinely as possible.

By my own admission, I suffer from an uncanny ability to be negative... so bare with me. I am a work in progress and have been making strides in being able to see things in a more positive light. Adoption, surprisingly is a good exercise... you have to be able to find the positivity and the hope, because without it, you have nothing.

Wow... now that I've rambled on way too long about myself, I would like to put out there exactly what I would like to say to people when they ask stupid questions.

****

The other day, I had a woman come to my door to pick up some stuff I was selling. We got on the topic of adoption. She asked where we were adopting from, and I no sooner got out, "Well, we were going to adopt from the US...." and she interjected with "Why aren't you adopting from the Ministry?".

Standing there with her lovely 2 yr old on her hip (after informing they that they are trying for another)... she announced she was a social worker and really started to make me feel as though she was grilling me for making the wrong decision. In her eyes, I should be adopting from the ministry and everything I had to say about it - she answered with, "That is not always the case...".

So, although my typical response is to be polite and defend myself, I need to strategize here. I want some real humdinger responses. I want to answer a question with a question. Not to be rude, or to hurt. But to make them think, "Did my mouth just say that?". Educate... not hate. I don't have these answers yet... I'm still working on it. BUT - I do know what that little voice inside my head says and what I feel like saying...

Said by social worker lady...
Why don't you adopt from the Ministry? Why don't you?

Said by my lawyer's legal secretary...
Why would you want to do that (adopt from Kenya)?

I don't know... 147 million orphans in the world. 50 million of them Africa. 1 in 5 will die before their 5th birthday. The lucky ones? They will suffer from famine and disease. They will be raped and abused. They will survive only by salvaging what they can from landfills and by selling their own bodies.

I guess you and your children are just darn lucky to have been born in the Western world so you didn't have to suffer the same fate - because if you were, you would really have to hope that there were people in the world who weren't as ignorant as you and actually gave a shit.

Said by family member...
Why don't you adopt from China? 

Do you know how racist that sounds?

Do you have a problem with Africa or Africans?

Why the HELL not Africa?

Said by someone I know...
Why do you want to travel and adopt from Africa? Africa is full of AIDS, there is a good chance your kid could have aids too.

What?! Are we living in the 80's here?! Your right, there are a lot of people with AIDS/HIV in Africa. Most orphans are AIDS victims. Although all the children are tested for HIV, there is a chance that they could have HIV. HIV is manageable with medication and many HIV positive people are able to live long, healthy, normal lives. It is almost a non issue nowadays. The only issue, unfortunately, is the stigma attached to it, created by people such as yourself. (Which unfortunately, is the only thing that gives me pause in considering adopting a positive child!) HIV positive children are just as deserving as any other orphan.

Now, as far as your worry about travelling in a country 'full of AIDS', you must be concerned that I will catch it. You will be happy to know that I do not intend on having sex with anyone there (other than hubby that is), nor will I be sharing needles with anyone. You will also be happy to know that outside of these 2 activities - my chances of catching HIV is MUCH lower than getting struck by lightning. That's right... you should be more concerned about the local weather patterns.

Said by family member...
There are many children in our own country that need help too, why aren't you adopting one of them?
Seriously? What do you really know about the children in need in Canada? Have you researched this? This is a typical, safe response. But actually shows your ignorance about adoption in the real world.

And, the last time I looked - this was our 'own' planet, and there are many children on our 'own' planet that are in need. There are several reasons why... but I am tired of explaining myself, so let me ask you this...

Why don't you adopt one of these children?

Why do you care where the heck I adopt from?

Wouldn't you agree that adopting a child from Africa is better than not adopting a child from anywhere?

And last, but not least... (words of wisdom from a dear friend of mine - 'xome')

Would you be so concerned about the way I build my family if this child came from my own VAGINA? No...? I didn't think so.

Tuesday Truth - A (VERY) scary brain fart!

Yes, that is what I am calling it, as it still remains a bit of a mystery to me... and it makes it easier to add some humour to the situation. The truth is that I am hesitant to even write about it, as it so fresh and I would prefer not to talk to about it - however, I think it is good to journal it while it is so fresh.

I have wanted to visit Seattle for years now. It is only a 7 hour drive from us, and I thought it would be a perfect summer vacation destination. 2011 was the year I would make it happen! It wasn't easy though, I'll say that much. Dan has been laying stone inside a client's house all summer. The project simply keeps growing. From 2 walls to an elaborate curved wine cellar with arches and niches etc. His goal was to complete the interior of the stone work before we could go. So, for the last month I have been helping him. We finally finished on Wednesday evening and left for Seattle Thursday at noon. We pulled into Seattle late at night and unpacked our luggage where we thought we would be staying for the next few days. We woke up early Friday morning, eager to catch the hustle and bustle of the Pike Market opening up. I will write more about our trip on another post, but the short of it was we caught some Market action, then went and did the underground tour. After the tour we decided we should start to walk towards the Science Center and stop along the way for a bite to eat. While we were walking down the street, I started to notice that I was having difficulty reading the signs. The right side of every word seemed to be missing. As I was walking, I covered my right eye... all was right and in order. However, when I covered my left eye, a piece of vision seemed to be missing from my right eye. Almost like a camera flash. It was whited out. Weird I thought. Must be from the bright light of the sun after being underground for so long.

As we were walking, we came across a quaint little Hawaiian restaurant. We all piled into a booth and made our menu choices. At this point, I do not recall having any vision problems. I did not have an appetite though. It was after 2pm and I ordered some Edamame beans and potstickers for the kids and I to share. Dan ordered some Tuna sushi on salad. Dan got up to go to the bathroom. While he was in the bathroom, a street fellow came in and immediately was asked to leave. On his way out, he did a little curtsy and gave us a smile. The kids asked why he was kicked out. "He doesn't any money". I said. Doesn't any money? Does that make sense? There must be a word missing.

"He doesn't any money." I repeated again to see if it made any more than the last I said it. No, that can't be right... what is missing? He doesn't HAVE any money. That's it's. Have. Hmmm... that's weird. I must be tired.

Dan came in and sat down and asked what was going on. "Some guy came in and they asked him to leave, and he did a little dance thing." Boy, that seemed difficult to spit out. What's wrong with me? I don't feel right. Forget about it and change the subject. I'll mention that I saw a ghost tour at the gum wall. 

- What came out of my mouth next was not " I saw a ghost tour at the gum wall"... but just jumbled words. I don't recall what they were, I just recall not being able to say the word "tour" and the perhaps I stopped there.

"What?" Dan said looking at me strangely. 

Shit... what the hell is going on? Something is not right! Something is really wrong. I can't talk properly!

"I.... I, I can't funny talk." I said as I rubbed my forehead. 

"Mommy, you just said, I can't funny talk!"

My heart started race, palms started to sweat and my eyes welled up with tears as I looked at Dan with complete utter fear. HELP ME!

"Your not having an aneurysm or something are you?" 

My hands started to shake and I managed to spit out, "Somethings not right". 

Dan, noticing the gravity of the situation and my fear, tried to calm me down. "It's okay, calm down... just keep talking."

The last thing I want to do is talk! I can't talk! Why can't I talk!? I know what I want to say, but it doesn't come out the way it should! Am I having a stroke?Do I have a brain tumour? Am I going to die right here? I need to get to a hospital. Should we call an ambulance?

"My (eyes)... I couldn't see right"... I sighed as I was completely frustrated and frightened by the realization that I could not say 'Eyes'.

"Are you okay "Jo", your hands are shaking really bad."

I found myself fidgeting with my phone (doing what I don't know), "No, it's okay." I think it's coming back to me... I think I can talk again.

"Look at your hands!"

"It's fine, I was just scared that's all."

Just then, our waiter came and served our food. The conversation that followed was what just happened and what we needed to do about it. Dan made me eat some rice just in case it was a problem with my blood sugar. They quickly ate up and Dan paid for the bill while I got Muffin to escort me to the bathroom - for fear that I would faint or something.

Dan was outside hailing a taxi. "It's okay Dan, I feel better now... I can walk." 

As we walked back to the van, I called my Dr. who said that I need to get to a Canadian Emergency Room as soon as possible for a CT Scan. I called my travel insurance provider to see if this qualified as an emergency. After being on hold... we decided that we would just grab our stuff from the hotel room and zoom up to Canada. We were really unsure about our coverage details and didn't want to run into any problems.

Within the next 2 hours, I had to go to the bathroom every half hour. 5 times within 3 hours and I had only  a coffee to drink that morning! This feels like a very important detail in my mind as I am the type of person who goes to the bathroom twice a day. I know, I should drink more fluids, but I also have a large bladder. Somehow though, I managed to pee like a race horse every 30 minutes. Where the fluid came from, I don't know!

Unfortunately the traffic up to Canada was Friday afternoon rush hour, so it was a slow drive. I between stopping for the bathroom, I started to develop a pressure headache behind my left eye and I just wanted to sleep.

We got to the Surrey General Hospital at 8pm. They very quickly had me sped through the registration process and into a triage room for a EKG, blood pressure and temperature. From there they sent me to a minor treatment room, which was a mini emergency room within the emergency ward. The fear had not left me at this point and most likely was only being heightened. An emergency room in a large city hospital is not    a pleasant place to be on a Friday night! I wrapped my arms around my kids as I snuggled them in on my lap so I could read them a story from my Kindle. I told them both that I loved them more than the moon and the stars and asked them to please say a prayer. This can't be the end of the line for me, my children need their Mom. Someone needs to get Muffin through puberty, boyfriends and her wedding. Mister will be lost without a Mom to comfort and protect him. He's just a lil boy... only 6! What about the adoption??

At that moment, nothing else in the room existed to me... the young man bent over in his chair as he bled into a white towel from his broken nose, the young girl rocking back and forth with her head in her hands throbbing from a migraine, the man with open sores all over his face, missing his teeth and obviously suffering from a Crystal Meth addiction, the elderly woman curled up in the corner with a blanket, or the woman with such a large growth on her leg/foot that she was unable to walk... they all slipped away into another dimension while I snuggled with my kids and read them at least one last story. This is all that matters. When life gets so crazy, we sometimes forget to slow it down and to relish the important things in life. I should have read to them more, played with them more. Instead of worrying about this and that... I should have taken the time to sit down and just talk to them. How many times have I brushed them off, or tried to buy their entertainment in the form of a video, a toy or a puzzle book? This was precious time I could have been doing stuff with them! Who cares about the housework, the gardens, etc. etc. None of that matters in the end.

Within 4 hours, I had an EKG, my blood pressure and temperature taken twice, blood work, a chest X-ray and a CT scan. The Doctor diagnosed me with a complex migraine. The fear of course was a mini stroke. However, due to the test results and the symptoms I had, the probability was extremely low. My headache worsened throughout the night, and was a bit better the next day... but was still present until Sunday. My eyes were sensitive to light all weekend however.

I am obviously following up with my local Dr. here just to keep an eye on things and to learn more about Aura Migraines. I am not one to get headaches, and even this headache was what I considered to be minor.  The Dr. told me that he has seen patients with no headache what so ever with these symptoms. It is called a silent Migraine. Hmm. The brain in a funny thing. I am welcoming this as my wake up call. There certainly are areas with room for improvement on the health front, and I could certainly learn to smell the roses a little more and not take the small things in life for granted. Today, as I left my children in the school yard on their first day of school - the hug goodbye was a lot more meaningful than it has been in the past. I have learned to try and treat every moment as if it were the last. After all, I really don't know when the last time could be. None of us do. My greatest life rule is to live to have not regrets. My biggest fear is regrets. I buy the safest carseats, because I never want to regret the consequence of not doing so. I am very strict about sleep overs, etc... because these are the things that you can't undo and I know the regret would haunt me. I forgot about the small regrets though too. I don't want to regret not living the healthiest life possible or to regret any time spent elsewhere that could have been spent with my children. I also have gained a greater appreciation for the security of Canada, our health care system and the simple security of just being at home. This morning is the best I have felt all weekend. A good night's sleep, and the security of knowing that my Dr. and the hospital is just literally right around the corner if any of us should need it. In the future, our travel medical insurance will not only be a priority, but I will make sure to educate myself on the policy before we leave! 

As for Seattle, our date together was cut short. I had so many plans, not to mention tickets purchased in addition to a prepaid hotel through Priceline. (Which I would like to add has the worst customer service. With over 7 different calls between the hotel and Priceline ,over 3 hours of long distance minutes on my cell phone - my medical emergency refund has still not been issued or near to being resolved. In fact, we technically were never even able to check out. The hotel also does not have very much positive things to say about them!) We also left a suitcase in the hotel in the midst of our panic. The rest of our weekend was spent in Vancouver, but I still have a suitcase in Seattle to retrieve. Hopefully, someday in the near future we can fetch it and resume our holiday.

In a rut...

Sharla over at The Chaos and the Clutter.... has started a Tuesday Truths post, so I thought I would jump on the bus!

Yes, I admit it. I am in an adoption (and other areas - but let's just concentrate on the one for now. lol) rut. I am still not finished the dossier, and typically I am the person that would have just grabbed hold of it and completed it in 2 days. But here I sit and procrastinate. I think much of it has to do with summer. Summer is typically chaotic for us, but this year we have had 3 weeks of family visiting, 2 backyard projects (the tree house and the chicken coop), in addition to a busy work season - not to mention the kids are home full time! I just seem to be lacking the energy... and other times I just feel deflated. This adoption struggle does seem to take a lot out of you. It seems to have been going on forever... we have literally been tackling this for 2 years now. I can't help but feel that it's all surreal and a good part of me feels like it will never happen. In fact, more and more as this process goes on - I feel more and more deflated, like I spent all my energy in the beginning and am just working off of whatever reserves I can find. Should have thought more like a marathon runner and not a sprinter!

I'm sure I'm not the only one who has ever felt this way. At least I hope I am normal in feeling this way! Surely there must be ebbs and flows of your enthusiasm in the process! Right? I am going to make a promise to myself to start to tackle this dossier in the evenings and hopefully in the process I will discover my gumption again.