Tag Archives: strength

The Smirk.

She’s sitting there, looking at me with eyes filled with tears and a smug grin that just will not leave her face. It’s this grin that is almost always my undoing. It’s not the screaming, or yelling or foot stomping, it’s the smirk.

The kicker is that I know it doesn’t actually mean anything, she’s not actually laughing at me or trying to be disrespectful. It’s just what she does when she’s upset and nervous, but I still have a hard time ignoring it.

It truly isn’t her issue, it’s mine. It’s me letting a look control my behaviour and that’s the real problem here. I’m letting the situation best me, and I’m the one losing out.

But that’s the joy of parenting teenagers. Getting past their quirks and tough shells while allowing them the freedom to be their own person. It’s allowing them to have an opinion while still maintaining our role of parent and disciplinarian. It’s figuring out how to be their friend but not their best friend. It’s not getting wrapped up in the eye rolls, the nervous giggles and the ridiculous smirk. It’s about picking your battles and recognizing what really matters and that sometimes, what’s important to you may not actually matter to them at all. AND being okay with that. It’s giving them freedom even though it just about kills you. It’s taking that freedom away when they’ve done something so incredibly stupid that you question how they came from your loins. It’s the moments when you see the worst of you being acted out by your child and realizing that, oh crap, I’m looking in a mirror. It’s hormones, training bras and periods and body hair and angst. And the talk. Oh the talks, why do we have to have so many of them, over and over and over again? Why don’t they just get it the first time? It’s watching them change before your eyes and knowing that they’re struggling and that you just have to watch and hope for the best.

It’s being able to shut your mouth and walk away without saying something you’ll regret. It’s hiding in your bathroom to have a good cry when you’ve reached the end of yourself. It’s sitting on the deck with a glass of wine and thanking your lucky stars that they’ve finally gone to bed. It’s calling your best friend on the phone and congratulating each other for surviving another day with a teenager.  It’s learning to let go of the parent you used to be and allowing yourself to become something completely different. And most importantly, it’s recognizing that it’s okay to be a complete and total failure sometimes and STILL be a good Mom.

And just before you’re about to crash, it’s important to refocus your eyes and look past all the crap and SEE your kids. Really see them. They’re changing and turning into something so amazing. They’re becoming adults with opinions and desires and wants. They’re discovering who they are and who they want to be. They say the most hilarious things and make you almost cry with laughter. They’re dumb and ridiculous but they’re so stinking cool at the same time. They are the best of you and the worst of you. They are so smart and understand things that we never will. They are unique and weird. They are sponges soaking up the world around them, and trying to figure out how to filter what they don’t want. They are determined and vigilant and so very brave. They are yours.

Don’t get so caught up in the crap and nonsense that you miss out on all the good stuff. The good and the bad, it’s all a part of their story, and trust me, you don’t want to miss out on any of it.

Don’t let the smirk do you in.

 

Consumed.

It’s all-consuming, isn’t it?

It does something to you the minute that you find out it’s real. It takes over your soul, your mind and your body. It quickly takes control of your heart with a grasp so tight that it almost takes your breath away. It screams so loudly that it’s hard to hear anything else. It turns you into we.

It makes you a better person, but it makes you so unsure of yourself. It makes you stronger, but it causes you to drop to your knees more often than anything else. It fills you with unspeakable joy, but it’s quite often wrapped in tears. It causes you to beam with pride while you hope that no one notices the bumpy road that got you to that moment. It is everything you ever hoped and wished for, but until this moment, you had no idea what that even meant.

I became a mother, and my world as I knew it completely fell apart.

From the moment of conception, I’ve been consumed by something that’s hard to even describe. It’s a fire that fuels my every thought, my every hope and my every breath. It’s a voice that roars from the core of my being. It’s a force that pushes and pulls me in ways that I could never have prepared myself for. It’s a warmth that fills every empty spot within me. I simply do not exist without them, and that’s the most terrifying yet incredibly wonderful thing ever.

My children changed me.

Because of them, I am a much better version of who I used to be. Because of them, I am braver than I ever dreamed possible. Because of them, I’m learning how to do things I didn’t even know I wanted to learn. Because of them, I’ve experienced true love without strings attached. Because of them, I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve screamed, I’ve worried and I’ve accomplished great things. Because of them, I am strong. I am fierce. I am awesome.

Because of them, I found myself.

Motherhood has consumed me. It has not made me weak. It has not made me less than. It has not made me “second”. It has made me who I was meant to be.

  

 

 

Honouring the gift of a man named Kevin.

21 yeas ago, I had a friend that liked our other friends boyfriends room-mate. I knew absolutely nothing about him, except that his name was Kevin. The first time we met, he was sitting on his front porch, reading my favourite book, which I noticed but didn’t really think too much about. And the second time, he gave me his car to drive myself home after my friend, and my ride, had gone home because “he” wasn’t paying any attention to her. That night, I told my Mom that I had just met my future husband.

Funny thing is, I really, honestly, didn’t “feel” anything for him. At all. I just KNEW that he was going to be my husband. Life went on and I “forgot” about my epiphany and my future plans. I went travelling with my Dad, and came home for a wedding. It was my friend’s birthday so I invited her to come over for cake. She had long given up the “quest to make Kevin hers”, but just so happened to have talked to him that day, so she invited him to come along. My Mom hired him to paint our house, and we were never apart again.

We spent hours and hours talking, and I finally began to “know” why he was destined to be mine. 6 months later we were engaged. 6 months after that, we were married. And I will forever be thankful for the gift that was given to me, in him.

I say all that, to say this. 2 weeks ago, my husband achieved something HUGE. Both literally and figuratively, and I am so stinking proud of him. He achieved it by working hard, pushing himself to his limits, and by playing fair. He accomplished something at almost 49 years of age that people half his age couldn’t even dream of achieving. He entered his first bodybuilding competition and won. He did this WITHOUT steroids and by doing all the right things. He began this journey when he was 16 years old, and in spite of knowing that he would never achieve the body of his bodybuilding heroes without “help”, he didn’t do it. He stayed natural, and worked twice as hard.

Unfortunately, not everyone believes that and it ticks me off. Some people are also assuming that because he’s so big and muscular, that all he thinks about is going to the gym and nothing else. Well, let me clear a few things up for you, right now. He is so much more than what you see on the outside, and even though that picture is pretty darned amazing, the person that he IS, is even more incredible.

Kevin is one of the most trustworthy and honourable people that you will ever meet. Integrity and honesty are what he practices on a daily basis. He is humble and does not boast of all that he has accomplished. He works harder than many people that I know, and is always willing to do what is necessary to take care of our family. He is faithful and diligent in all he does. He loves his family passionately and is an amazing father. He stands up for people that aren’t strong enough to stand on their own. He is quiet and unassuming, but never mistake his peaceful demeanor for weakness. He may be a man of few words, but his words are filled with thought and strength. He genuinely cares about people and wants to make a difference in our home and our community. He is not perfect by any means, but he is someone that this world needs more of. He is my best friend.

So for those of you that make the assumption that he is a muscle-headed steroid monkey, you are wrong. So very, very wrong. Biceps, Brains & Heart….THAT is my husband.

 

Love you Wiener.   ~ Your Wifey  xoxox

The Road to Skinny … Wanting it all NOW

When I make a decision that something needs to change,  I want it all to happen now. Right now.

Why is waiting so hard? It took  me almost 40 years to get me to the place that I’m at today. I guess I shouldn’t expect everything to change over night, but I sure wish they would. Truthfully, there are many things that I’m wishing for right now.

I wish that I liked vegetables more than cake. I wish that water tasted like Coke Zero. I wish that watching Reality TV shows counted as exercise. I wish that I could convince my willpower that it was just as strong as the words I speak. I wish that I felt more comfortable in my own skin. I wish that I could fall asleep and wake up skinny. I wish that I wasn’t such a wussy, whiny baby.

But wishing really won’t get me too far, so instead, I’m choosing to be thankful. I’m thankful that my brain is finally in a good place. I’m thankful that my health is getting better everyday. I’m thankful that I’ve figured out what I’m allergic to. (Even though I miss wheat more than words can explain). I’m thankful for my wonderful family, good friends and for change that is fueled by hope. I’m thankful that old thoughts patterns are being replaced with new ones. I’m thankful for this journey.

I will continue pressing forward, eating better, feeling better and wanting more. As I continue on, I will pray for patience and trust that I already have it within me. I will get there … I will become what I know I am.

Thanks for listening to me whine and complain. It felt really good, and now I can move on to something better.  🙂