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Saturday, 31 March 2012

Mommy Snaps

Do you know how hard it is to live with 4 boys?'s not pretty.  Boys are gross, and think gross things are funny.  They fart and burp at the dinner table, laughing at each other.....they bite their nails and leave them wherever they want or put them in my plants.  They pee all over the toilet/toilet seat/bathroom floor and whatever else may be handy (yes, we've had incidents with garbage cans and baby tubs).  But so far, we don't have the hormones.  Now lets turn the you know how hard it is to live with 1 incredibly hormonal red headed Aries?  Yeah.  So I guess the road really does run both ways.  I'm going to paint you a's not a pretty one.  It's like those paintings where everything is all just like....smeared together in the most garish colours and they're all deep and meaningful but you think your toy poodle could shit on a canvas and make nicer art?  Yeah, that's the kind.  This happened a bit was one of "those" mornings at my house.  Oh yes, duhn duhn duuuuuuuhhhnnnnn!!!!  The baby hadn't been sleeping well and we hadn't had a full nights sleep in a long time.  He was miserable and so were we.  The boys had all been sick with horrendous colds and up coughing and crying all night for a week.  Barry and I were tired and grumpy.  Enter......PMS!!!!!!!!!!!!  Now, that alone should be enough to have you running for the hills screaming and crying....but this particular morning, Barry hadn't figured that detail out yet.  I was trying to make lunches before school.  We were running TOTALLY late and of course out of "lunch snacks" because the little jerks sit around and eat them all day after school.  I was busy making baggies of "trail mix" out of left over ground up bits of cereal, old nuts from Christmas and an old bag of spitz sunflower seeds I'd found on the top of the fridge (camping '05 possibly?).....the boys were of course fighting and not brushing their teeth like I was screaming at them    politely asking them too.....Lenny was hanging onto my leg crying and wiping snot everywhere.  I was raging pms, fighting a cold and a time bomb waiting to go off.....see, but that's the other thing with boys.  Sometimes they are a little slow to pick up on things like raging pms....until it's toooooo late.  Barry can sense somethings wrong, but not sure quite what and he decides to be a funny jokester and that'll make things better!  Wrong Barry.  Wrong.  He grabs me in a huge bear hug, squeezing me hard.  I also had worked myself too hard at the gym and that in combination with sleeping with my head on the nightstand (baby in bed) had made my shoulders all crooked.  "OW that hurts!" I yell out....i'm on the verge of tears and want to be living by myself in the mountains somewhere at that moment.  Barry thinks this is funny "whyyy does that hurt??" squeezing harder.  I'm trying to pull away but he thinks that's funny too.....somehow his "morning person" personality is making him blind to the death rays I'm putting out....he's just assuming it's the non "morning person" in me that's speaking.  Oh wrong again Barry.  I finally wrench back enough that he can see my face....I'm full out crying....he's totally shocked and I scream at him "I'M TIRED AND HAVEN'T SLEPT AND MY SHOULDER HURTS AND......AND.........AND I HAVE A COLD!!!!!!!"


The whole room is silent.  Barry does the smartest thing he's done all morning and just slowly, carefully lets me go and backs away without taking his eyes off me or making any sudden movements.......right out the front door and down the steps where he gets in the van and gets the heck out of goodbye, no kiss.  I stand in the middle of the room sobbing while my darling children quickly hustle to get their stuff on and get out to the bus....finally.  Even the baby toddles off to nicely watch a show and everyone leaves me to stand in the room, fight the pms demons and feel like an asshole.

So there you have it.  What would you rather?  4 boys and all that goes with that?  Or 1 redhead with pms and a slight imbalance to begin with?  All these blogs, all my woe is me I have too many males in my life moments and it comes down to this......boys, I'm sorry.  But you're stuck with me.  And I'm the Queen of this castle so put that toilet seat down and pick up your socks or next month, and the month after that, and the month after that, we could play that game again.  You have been warned.

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

Another rant....yeah yeah, you're all used to it by now.

So it's almost my birthday.  And you know what?  I'm freaking the fuck out.  Why you may wonder?  Because I'm not "into" the whole like.....ageing thing.  I think it sucks.  And it's stupid and dumb and really, I have no need for it at all.  AT ALL YOU HEAR ME???  I'm going to fight it all the GD way.  And okay, before you say it, just shut up.  I don't need to hear it!  I need to whine and pout and cry and stomp my little (not really considering my freakish height) feet.  I've heard it all.......age is just a number, you're only as old as you feel, 30's (or 40's depending on how old you are) are the new 20's blah blah blah fuckity blah.  Okay, I get it....without ageing, we'd never get ahead, learn, change, grow.....but, I just am not okay with it!!  I NEVER thought I'd be one of these types of people.  I was that girl in my early 20's who'd make fun of people like this.....I'd exclaim in my stupid 20 year old valley girl voice  "I can't wait till I have cute little smile lines around my eyes!" was I fooling myself.  Once I hit 28, it was all a train wreck from there.  I sobbed my way to 29 and then just when I thought I'd be okay with 30, I got worse.  Just the thought of my birthday literally brings me to tears.  AND I KNOW, it's okay....really.  But sometimes I'm completely irrational and this is one of those times (bet you're surprised right?).  And yeah, eventually, I'll probably get over it, and I'm looking forward to that moment, but for now, as my birthday approaches, I sit here and weep.  Please don't ask me why....just "there there" me and keep my wine glass full!!! And shower me with gifts and love and affection!

 Mind you, guys like the new sales rep I met today help somewhat.  We started talking about myself and the subject of kids came up he asked how many kids I had.  When I told him three, he spit his coffee out and screamed at me "HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU HAD THEM? 12?!?!" to which I replied quickly "11 1/2 actually" and then followed up with a marriage proposal....sorry Barry, but he's Italian too so I thought you'd understand.  And to everyone I've ever complained about ageing too....I've only ever had one person who completely "got" me and I love her for it.  One of my longtime clients....a beautiful woman in her 50's who raised 4 amazing, gorgeous daughters as a single mother....I was doing her hair on an April 8th, the day before I turned 30, and I said to her "well, this is my last day as a 20 something year old".....she turned around, put her hand around my hand lovingly, looked me right in the eyes and exclaimed compassionately "Oooooh honey!  It's all fucking downhill from here."  Yeah, she gets it.  Gravity kicks in and it's allllllllllll fucking downhill from here.  So to my upcoming birthday, STUFF IT!  Thanks for listening......and if one of you tell me age is just a number, I will hunt you down and make you cry for your mothers.

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Sappy Inspiration for our monthly blog group

This is my amazingly multi talented, multi tasking husband at his finest. We went through a phase where the baby was a total asshole and grumpy ALL the time and this was how we ate dinner most nights.  We'd pass him back and forth and try and keep him semi happy for a few minutes so the other could inhale a bit more food.  Well, leave it to Barry to be able to do everything.  He inspires me every day to just forge through and stay grounded and really try and do my best, even when things are shit and our house is a disaster and the kids are filthy and we're broke because one day it's going to be 20 years later and we'll be missing these days.  He inspires me to take on as much as I can, even if I can't do everything 100% perfectly because that's okay too.  He really just inspires me to genuinely smile in my crazy life of boys because we can do it.

This blog is part of a monthly group of bloggers who all write about the same topic.....please check out the others inspirational pictures....

Andes cruz:
Thomasin Durgin:
pencilfox: or
Kathleen Krucoff:
Renée Dolling:
Beth Cyr:
Kathryn Cole

Monday, 12 March 2012


Lenny is, the number of years old, but also like the personality.  Over night I swear he has turned into a full blown two year old.  Yesterday.....he was into EVERYTHING.  And, I was home and right with him and he just found multiple ways to be a two year old.  For starters, he's beating up his brothers....his older brothers....his older, bigger brothers.  And not like a little bit, like he's bringing them to tears with his punches and kicks.  So that's awesome.  So yesterday he wants a bag of entire bag of tortilla chips...the big bag.  He's dumping them everywhere and I'm trying to wrestle the bag away and get him a bowl of chips.  So I grab a bowl which happened to be a glass salad bowl that is part of a set we got for our wedding....which okay yes, maybe not the best bowl but the kids are on spring break and eating cereal all day long and every other bowl I owned was dirty and in the dishwasher for the 537827th time and even Lenny had oatmeal for breakfast out of one of those gladware plastic dealies.  You've all been there so stop smirking!  ANYWAYS.....I give him this bowl of chips, which he's pissed off about cause he wanted the entire bag so I had to do the ol' pretend and give them another brother trick and then all of a sudden it's like crack and he HAS to have them. So he's sitting on the couch watching TV and all of a sudden SMAAASSHHHHH and Gavin yells "LENNNNNNNYYYY!" and there goes my bowl.  He pushed it off the couch in a throwing motion and managed to smash it all over the rug.  My lovely oldest boy jumps up, scoops Lenny out of the way and proceeds to clean it up AND vacuum for me (not the chips crunched all over the couch though but that's besides the point).  Moving on.....we're also semi-potty training....meaning he runs around naked a lot.  He's usually pretty darn good about announcing he has to pee, mostly because he loves to flush so I don't worry too much about him marking his territory all over.  So he comes motoring into the kitchen while I'm doing dishes, runs over to the rug by the front door and proceeds to PEE ALL OVER IT.  And like, not just a, he's been saving this one up for a while.  He just stands there all naked with his little hips thrust out peeing in kind of a back and forth motion....I'm yelling "LEENNNNNNYYYYYY THE POTTY!!" and he's smiling away, making puddles.  And honestly, why the rug??!  We have hardwood floors and lino and he has to pick the one scrap of carpet for miles!  Great....a roll of paper towel later and I hear flushing.  Now I'm pretty sure he didn't just pee in there cause I'm still busy mopping it all up and then it's of course I go RUNNING for dear life into the bathroom just in time to see that he's unrolled the entire brand new roll of toilet paper, tossed it all into the toilet and he's flushing it.  LEEENNNNNNYYYYY!!!!  My heart stops for a moment, waiting to see if it'll actually flush....swirling....swirling....okay's down and I've narrowly escaped having to wash my bathroom floor.  Okay, yeeesss I wash my bathroom floor....many times a week because in case you forgot, I live with 4 boys and there's always pee on it.  But at that moment in time, I was not really into it.  I hussle him outta there and he goes to play nicely (ha!) with Kohen.  I finish the dishes and again....quiet.  Fuck.  So I bust into the living room and there's Lenny, sitting on the couch colouring nicely.  No, not my couch, don't jump to conclusions.  He's sitting there holding his WIENER up and outta the way with his left hand and very carefully colouring his BALL SACK with an orange felt pen..*SIGH*  And you know what?  I let him finish.  And then I didn't even clean it off....I just let him run around bare clackers with a flaming orange ball sack.  Why?  Cause that's just the kind of mom I am.  After that, it was steadily downhill with the climbing on counters, eating half a bag of chocolate chips, drawing on the table and other things, but watching him do it all with bright orange boys sorta made it all the more comical and easier to deal with.  Maybe that's the answer to the worlds problems?  Colour your balls and people will let you get away with more cause you look so ridiculous that you can't help but smile with every flop?

Friday, 9 March 2012

A Little Girl and a Bear

Some of you will know this story....specifically those in Mr.Heuers grade 6 class at Kinnaird Elementary School back, ooohhhhh 20 years ago.  I was twelve.  Our class went on a field trip for a hike up to Meldiana Trail, a trail up along the side of a highway....we were to hike in (about an hour through a windey, bushy, very treed path) to an A frame structure beside a little lake for lunch.  On the way to the A frame we pass a smaller pond which is full of frogs.  Our class eats lunch and is hanging around the A frame and me and another girl go down the path back to the pond with some buckets to catch frogs.  We load up a TON of frogs in our buckets....we can hear the class, but can't see them.  All of a sudden we hear our class start shouting and yelling and banging and going wild.....there's a bear who's came for the food we brought.  The other girl looks up at me quickly and darts off and through the pond and bushes around towards the A frame.  I'm on the other side of the pond and kind of freeze....I'm a tiny girl who is scared of everything.  As I stand there, clutching my bucket of frogs, I can hear them yelling louder and smashing sticks on the A frame....trying to scare the bear away.  They don't realize I'm over by the pond, at the other end of the path, in exactly the direction they are trying to scare the bear.  I start walking up the path towards them and see the bear.  Okay, now when you are twelve, but the size of probably a seven or eight year old, bears are scary and big.  Like, really really big.  Like I don't even know how big this brown bear would be in real life, but to me at that time, it was the size of a horse.  The bear turns and sees me.  Now it's confused.  It's like...pacing kind of back and forth towards the class, then towards me.  It's scared and making gruff noises and snorting.  Every thing I've ever heard about what to do when seeing a bear has been forgotten....the bear starts towards me I turn and I run, I fucking ruuunnnnn.  I'm heading back along the path, hoping it's the right way back to the main highway.  I hear the bear behind me.....and okay, I know I'm twelve and in my mind that bear was following me.  Looking back now, I don't know if it was or not for any distance but back then, I wasn't stopping to find out.  I did take the wrong path at one point and all of a sudden lost the trail, but somehow managed to back track quickly and get back on it.  I get to the highway and I'm hysterical.  I'm crying and sobbing.....scared that the bear is right behind me, or that there are other bears and now I'm all alone.  My class and teacher don't realize where I've gone, all they would know at that point was that they scared a bear in my direction and I was all by myself.  I stand on the side of the highway, tears streaming down my face, jumping up and down waving my arms frantically above my head.  I don't even know what I'm flagging someone down for, but I can't stay alone.  Eleven cars drive past me.....not stopping for the girl who looks like she's seven, crying on the side of the road.  Finally a guy pulls over.  He can't understand what I'm saying, I'm completely hysterical....all he gets out of it is "a bear" and somehow he pieces the rest together.  To this day, I have learnt nothing about this guy except that he was maybe an ambulance attendant or volunteer fire fighter or something.  He walks me alllllllllll the way back to the A frame, where my class is frantically trying to find me...or my mauled body, or something.  My teacher spots me from behind this guy and runs over, grabbing me in a massive hug.  The class all takes turns hugging me and of course, as grade 6 girls do, crying.  At the end of the year, I buy my teacher a little soapstone carving of a bear. 

Probably the scariest day of my life.  To this day, living out where I do, I am terrified of bears.  They walk through my yard, sit in the tree and I'm in a cold sweat in the house screaming for the kids to lock themselves in their rooms. 

Fast forward to now......Mr.Heuer is still around and whenever he sees me (now and for the last 20 years) he says "Well, how's my little bear girl?" and every once in a while we talk about how that was one of the most terrifying days for the both of us.  So this week, Monday, I'm out for my run and I see Mr.Heuer drive past.  He smiles and waves.  On Tuesday, he comes into my salon, a place he's never come, and says "I have something for you!  I've had this for long enough, I think it's your turn now" and he gives me the soapstone bear.  I ask him "did you see me out running yesterday and wonder if I was still running from those bears??" and he nods, totally seriously and says "yes, that thought did cross my mind.  I figure, it's your turn now."  So, on my little shelf at work, now sits a little soapstone carving of a bear holding a fish, maybe he'll sit there for the next 20 years and then I should pass him back again.

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

WARNING - You are going to implode with shock.

So this is going to come as a complete shock.  Some of you might faint, please sit now if you think that could be you.  There's going to be a lot of screaming and gasping and general over dramatised verklemption (please refer to SNL The Church Lady is this last word confuses you).  But I've decided it has to be put out there....I just don't feel like you all can connect with me, really get me without sharing this blog posting with you.  So are you all ready??  Sitting?  Have some smelling salts and a shot of whisky handy (I know you do Ande)?  Okay, here goes.  I.  Have.  Bad.  Habits.      I'll give you a moment to process that and finish running around crying... good?  Okay.  Yes, it's true.  I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner...and if you feel like I've been living a lie, I apologize for that too.  I mean, I'm only human right?  No no....I'm not trying to pacify you, you feel whatever emotions you want.  I just want to share with you, a few of these bad habits....just to like, get on a real level with you.  It's all for you in the end see?  Because I love each and every one of you.

Bad Habit #1 - believe it or not, I don't have the language of nuns.  Yes, this is probably going to be quite shocking.  I have been known to utter some foul language.....language that could make your old Uncle Pete the trucker blush and cover his eyes....language that is so potentially foul, it hasn't even been invented don't even know if I'm swearing but you know it makes you feel funny in that spot deep down inside you.  I curse a lot.  I tried cutting back, but I think my vocabulary really suffered for it.  What fun is pointing and grunting????

Bad Habit #2 - I procrastinate.  Now I know that's a big fancy word, and sounds like it could even be a little sexual in nature, but I assure you, it's not a good thing.  What I can do today, I'll put off for tomorrow!  And like...write a blog instead!!  The worst part is, I see myself doing this....and I tell myself "Self, get the fuck (refer to bad habit #1) off that computer and go find your children!" but then my self always gets all "you can't tell me what to do bitch!! (bh#1)"....which brings me to...

Bad Habit #3 - I have selective listening skills.  Every "no" to me, is kinda like a challenge.  What's that?  No?  Well then....give me 5 minutes and I'll ask you again.  I don't know if this is really a bad habit...cause mostly it's for your own good that I'm convincing you to do something ridiculous and only slightly dangerous with me!  Because I sure as heck wouldn't convince you to do laundry.....but i could convince you to do my laundry!  No?  We'll seeeeee........

Bad Habit #4 - I'm messy.  GASP!!!!!!!!!  I know right??????  I having all my stuff out where I can see it, otherwise, it's lost.  I'm worse then a child for opening up the fridge and screaming "WHAT!! OUT OF KETCHUP AGAIN??!!" only to have Barry move a milk jug over 1/4" to the left to reveal the hidden ketchup.  If I can't see it, it doesn't exist....again, where the hell (bh#1) are my kids??

Bad Habit #5 - I drink.  Wine.  Lots.  Now, this isn't really a bad habit in my books.....but the look upon my doctors face when she asked me how much alcohol I consumed a week, leads me to believe it's shunned upon in certain circles.  I can't help it.  Wine like....owns my soul!  When wines around I'm all "yeah baby, slip me a roofie!"

Bad Habit #6 - I'm a flicker.  Listening to music....oh?  You like that song?  *flick to another*  Oh sorry...were you listening to that? *flick to another*.  Watching TV....."In the Criminal Justice System the people are represented by two separate... *flick* "This is JEOPARDY..." *flick* *flick* *flick* *flick*  I can't help it.  It's a bad habit I got from my dad.  I think my mom and Barry have started the first FGSPTRD club.....for those not familiar ForGodSakePutThatRemoteDown

So there you have it.....6 of my bad habits.  I'm sorry to burst your "Shannons perfect" bubble, but someone had to do it.  Not that I think you do....but if you do happen to recall any other tidbits that might be seen as "bad" or more like "slightly tarnished", then please, do share!  I'll fight you....just kidding....violence wasn't on my list.

Tuesday, 6 March 2012

What is love? (crap, now I got that song from Night at the Roxbury stuck in my head)

So I woke up in the middle of the night like a bolt of friggen lightning with this amazing idea to blog about the subject "love".  I lay there awake, debating getting up and coming down to write while the blog unfolded in my mind.  It was magnificently worded, a picture weaving in and out with such a beautiful flow that it was almost like I could actually answer the question "what is love/in love" with my reasoning.  The words formed in my mind for probably 45 minutes and just when I finally decided that I should get up to write, I had to go and ruin my life by falling back asleep.  Now, here I sit, staring at the flashing cursor on my screen drawing a blank.  Awesome.  Now, why love you're probably asking....I mean didn't I just post yesterday my own love story, thus proving that maybe I somehow have something figured out about it?  I just....hear it a lot.....from friends, clients etc.....that search for love, or whatever it may be....the desire to fall in love.  And I don't know if it's the almost change in the season from dreary to spring, that all of a sudden everyone is looking for change and feeling lonely from the long winter.  I still think it's hard living here, meeting people...I don't know what it is exactly....the lack of places to actually go and do things with people who are in the same boat as you (if someone suggests fishing on the arrow lakes, I will fight you).....or if it's the small town thing where everyone you run into, chances are you made out with them awkwardly in high school at a bush party.  Or is it just part of that human thing, being evaded by love.  Oh and why do some people just like, walk right on it to it....falling in love at the mention of a coffee date and others, you'd have to beat them with your feelings for them before they'll even reluctantly try and return the sentiment.  And okay, I get it, trust is a big issue....but let's even pretend that trust doesn't exist anymore and just straight up, falling in love is the thing to do.  Still, I bet still, there's some people out there who just naturally have a wall that you have to chip away at bit by bit.  So what is "falling in love" and how do you know when you've done it?  Someone asked this question once before on facebook and I responded with "when it happens with the same person more then once" but can I distinguish between just loving someone and that moment when you realize you do love someone?  OMG this reminds me of a time in high school......hahahahaha....okay, I was dating first love....that total high school type love....I would have thrown myself off a bridge for him!  So we just are like starting to be "going out" as one does in high school and I'm out shopping with my mom and walking down the milk aisle and all of a sudden like a ton of friggen bricks I have this realisation that I LOVE him!  And I still, to this day, remember exactly what my feeling was at that exact moment....standing in Safeway with my braided pigtails, giant awful thrift store baggy pants, tie dye shirt, looking like a total skid and grinning like a complete idiot.  Have I felt that feeling again since?  Yeah, I'm sure I have!  Okay, take the teenage hormones out of the picture and it doesn't feel quite the same way anymore....I'd like to think I'm a big more profound then that!  I love being in love.  Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but sometimes I have fleeting moments of love for this one time, I was waiting for my halloween costume to come in the mail....and you all know how I feel about halloween...well, it was the last day that the mail would come before we were going out and I was freaking out and the mailman walked in at the last second with my costume and I swear I fell in love right then and there!  I said to him "you'd better get out of here cause I'm going to make out with you!" and he laughed and started to leave, then said "maybe I shouldn't!" and then it was just awkward.  Or, okay, confession time....I'm secretly a little bit in love with this mortgage broker Paul who we've used in the past buying houses.  Now, I've never actually met or seen Paul but he has the sexiest accent and I fell in love with him just talking on the phone!  It's okay, you can tell my husband...he knows I'm a floozy like that.  So what's your opinion??  How do you fall in love?  What's your love style?  Do you know when it happens?  Does it sneak up and surprise you?  Or do you keep it at bay, and not let it in.....fuck off love, not today!  

Monday, 5 March 2012

The story of two polar opposites

Anyone who knows me and my husband, know that we are pretty much complete and total polar opposites.  Anyone who doesn't know us, but reads my blogs has totally figured this out also.  In telling stories of myself and Barry, I often get "wait, how are you together?" said in genuine surprise and curiosity.  So how the heck did we wind up together??? And how the heck do we stay together?  The first part of that is a good story actually.....

So Barry remembers the very first moment he ever saw me.  I, on the other hand, don't remember that day.  It wasn't monumental.  Let me set the scene.....I was dating Kevan and very pregnant with Gavin.  We worked at Dexters Pub (Kevan and his brother owned the place) and Barry had just moved to town and Kootenay Market (the grocery store) was setting up.  The guys at the Market would work a gazillion hours a day and then always come to Dexters for a beer afterwards, which is where we first met him.  The day Barry remembers I had just came into Dexters to pick Kevan up after his shift.  Barry says I flounced in wearing this yellow dress and crazy red boots (doesn't sound like me at all right?) and I was incredibly pregnant.  They all wondered who I was until I sauntered over to Kevan and gave him a kiss.  I think the story went that they all looked at each other and said "she's with him?" and that was his first sighting of me.  I first remember meeting Barry at Kootenay Market, where Kevan and I shopped every single day.  We had loaded up the cart with groceries and I was still very pregnant.  Of course, the bread had wound up at the bottom and was totally squished.  Barry rang us through, and being the completely friendly great guy he is, he picked up the squished bread and said "defect!" and gave it to us for free (I hope I'm not going to get him fired now).  So we pretty much saw and chatted with Barry every day at the store.  He's super friendly and outgoing and all the customers at the store feel like they personally know him, because that's how he is.  Soon enough, my sister started working at Kootenay market and so we got to know him a bit more.

Fast forward a couple years and Kevan and I have split up and my sister is now old enough to go to the bar.  The gang from Kootenay Market are all around the same age 19's-24 and I'm right in there too so we all go out together alot.  I remember Barry having occasional girlfriends and we always were just friendly and flirty, and had a spark if you will.  So before too long we start "dating".  I'm going to hairdressing school and Gavin is 2ish.  Back then, I was way more conservative believe it or not.  I was young and hadn't figured out who I was or where I was going.  I still had lots of baggage from Kevan and hadn't really dealt with anything yet.  Barry was way more outgoing and really into being out and social and partying.  He was amazing with Gavin though and my family loved him.  Everywhere we went people would ask us "when are you getting married??" "you're so perfect together" etc etc and we were this ready made family.  And then one day, we weren't.  Barry had been acting kinda funny, and one day at school I check my email and he's SENT ME A BREAK UP EMAIL!!!  I KNOW RIGHT!!!!  You'd think I'd have it branded in my brain, but I can't remember what it said.  I was DEVASTATED!!!  I was madly in love with him and he broke my heart.  I left school early, went home and literally cried for 3 days and 3 nights in my bed.  Finally my mom came down and said "You're killing's enough please!" and I got up.  They were all devastated too.  Gavin would ask everyday where Barry was and when we'd go visit him.  One day I snapped and yelled "BARRY DIED!" as we drove past his apartment and Gavin asked to go visit.  We ran into each other a few times over the next little bit and it was always super awkward and wound up with me in tears.  Eventually I got over it.

So I start to figure out who I am.  I finish hairdressing school and buy my first place, which also happens to be the new site of my salon.  Me and my family spend every day for months renovating it, painting every surface and making it into the amazingly cute little house it was.  I deal with Kevan and we wrap it up and go back to being the good friends we were before.  I don't need a guy in my life, I'm doing just fine!

So one night, me and my friend Glenna go out to Dexters to dance.  We run into this slimeball there who used to work with Barry.  This slimeball is stirring shit up for Barry and just being a general douchebag (like usual).  I had heard Barry was having major problems with this guy at work, but didn't ask to many questions.  So this guy comes up to me and my friend and wants to talk....wants to bad mouth Barry....wants to expose him as the asshole he is.  Now, Barry may have broken my heart but I knew that wasn't the kind of guy he was.  He was far from an asshole and I always would tell people that when they'd bash him and his break up with me.  The douche bag gives me his phone number so we can talk about Barry, I rip it up and tell the bouncers he's bugging us and get him kicked out.  A few days later I'm at the liquor store and run into Barry.  It's been almost a year since our breakup and months and months since I last saw him.  He looks genuinely happy to see me.  We chat for a bit, joke over my bag full of wine and he says he heard that I stood up for him.  He invites me over to his place that evening where he's having some friends over.  I don't think I want to go back there and agree to call him, but make no promises.  That evening, I do call, and get voicemail.  I leave a message.  A couple days later he calls me back.  Someone else was on the phone and he didn't know I called...he's bummed he missed me.  He invites me over for a glass of wine to talk (which we NEVER did after the break up).  I agree reluctantly and go buy a litre of wine.  We drink ALL the wine that night and stay up ALL night talking about everything.  He's dealt with alot of his stuff too (dad issues, bad divorce of his parents, work shit) and is super excited about my new ventures.  I take him to my new place around 3am and we sit in the middle of the construction, drinking and listening to music and talking and occasionally dancing.  It's a great night!  After that we agree to hang out again.  I still won't let Gavin in on any of it....I tell Barry straight up we can't go through that again and we're not back together.  We set up another date.  The day of that date he calls me at my friend Terri's house to cancel....he has to go to Fernie to work for at least 6 weeks, maybe more to fill in for their store manager.  Off he goes and we spend the next few weeks on the phone with each other.  Looking back, this is a great way to start again....forced to talk and not just to jump back into a relationship again.  We talk about everything hours into every night.

So it's 2am....I'm totally dead asleep and my phone rings.  I answer it and it's this guy who I don't know.  He's super friendly, pretty drunk and going off about how he can't wait to meet me.  I finally clue in that it's Barry's estranged dad, who he's recently re-connected with in Fernie.  His dad is going on and on about how he heard the whole story from Barry and how he knows Barry loves me and how he feels so bad.  He tells me they have a bus ticket for me and one for Gavin waiting at the bus depot that weekend and please could we come visit.  I say "maybe" and decide to myself I won't go.  He tells me "if you get off that bus, you get off that bus.  We'll be there".  I'm not going. 

The Friday that the bus is going to Fernie, is leaving at 9pm.  I'm still not going and we have a dinner party at my parents house.  Everyone keeps asking me if I'm going and I explain no, I can't risk it again.  I'm good on my own.  I'm happy.  8pm rolls around and "HOLY SHIT I NEED TO GO TO FERNIE!!!"  I chuck a few things in a suitcase and get a ride to the depot.  I get carsick so I take a bit of gravol and me and Gavin fall asleep on the bus.  We don't notice our stop in Fernie, we're totally sleeping.  The bus diver gets out to unload the luggage and Barry and his dad are there waiting anxiously.  We don't get off.  The bus driver is getting ready to leave and notices them waiting there.  They describe me and Gavin and the bus driver realizes he needs to wake us up!  Barry says after that he was so terrified  when we didn't get off the bus.  We could have been half way to Calgary before we woke up!  We spend a great weekend in Fernie and Barry and I are together again. I lay out the ground rules "if you ever leave me like that again, I'll kill you."....he promises he won't.

At a dance in Trail a bit later, Barry proclaims his undying love for me.  He says he regretted the break up instantly, but I think if we hadn't, we wouldn't have lasted anyways.  We both had so much shit to deal with and that year off we both did so much.  10 years and 2 more kids later and we're still together.  Why does it work?  I'm not sure!  But I like to think I keep him fun and he keeps me grounded (as much as possible! haha).  Don't get me wrong, we have disagreements over lots of things, but we both love and respect each other enough that we can usually find a middle ground, each appreciating the others different opinion.  We have lots in common too!  Our love of family, wine, nice cars, modern homes, and good food to name a few.  Most evenings we can be found in our kitchen with a glass of wine, Barry working on financial spreadsheets and me cooking and dancing wildly to loud music, talking about our days.  They do say opposites attract, and there must be something to that!  Over the years we seem to get more and more opposite as we each settle into our 30's, but at the same time we get closer and closer.  I'm excited to see which traits our kids get from each of us and how they are going to be as people. 

I love this picture of us.  A friend lovingly named it "The Banker and The Whore" and yeah, it's pretty perfect of us.

Friday, 2 March 2012

Holy shit.

I'm a bit of a "last minute" kinda gal.  I think I do better under pressure, but I'm probably just telling myself that because I'm also a bit of a procrastinator.  For example, tomorrow Gill and I have appointments to get our new tattoos.  Now, tattoos are a pretty serious thing....there's the whole permanent kinda deal.  So you'd think this would be something that you'd have planned out for decades before getting to your appointment, all tho, if I could interrupt myself for a second, this one time I saw a lady walk into the tattoo shop and just like randomly point to a drawing on the wall and be like "ummm, yeah okay, that one." so I guess it does happen!  Wait, where was I...........oh you'd think one would have a game plan on the Friday before a 1pm Saturday tattoo appointment.  Now here's the shocker, maybe you'd best sit down.........I DON'T have a game plan.  Wait, that's not entirely true, I have multiple game plans!!  None of which are clear to me WHICH is the right game plan!  So what do I do?  I tell Gill I'm waiting for my spirit quest to show me the answer, when in reality I'm just going to sweat it out and freak out until the very last second!  Now don't get me wrong, I'm not just going to waltz in there and wind up with regrets.....all of my ideas I have I adore and love and would be happy with.  I probably will wind up with all the ideas inked on me somewhere in the future.....the location of all these pieces I can say I totally don't have ideas for.  Now in all of this, am I concerned?  No, not really.  Should I be?  Heck yes.  What I'd really like is for someone to just bully me into the right answer....but it has to be the answer I want already but don't know I want?  Ya know?  Any takers?

Thursday, 1 March 2012

Conversation with Barry

Let me just first off start by saying this.....YES I AM STILL OBSESSING OVER FLUEVOGS.  Okay, now that that's out of the way!  I mean, just because I check 1983729 times a day to see if my boots are still available in my size (while a little icon flashes wildly at me saying HURRY only one pair left), doesn't make me crazy right?  And what's going to happen the day I check and they're gone????!  I shudder to imagine!  But let's step back from my neurotic behaviours and talk about how that behaviour is going to play out with my polar opposite husband......this is our early morning text messages....

me - Phew.  You'll be glad to know my fluevogs are still available.
B - You could put your tattoo money towards them!
me - Okay!  So then my tattoo is my birthday present??


I mean, my birthday is coming up, it only makes sense that I should get a present right??  And out of the two of them, I'm sure he'd consciously fund the boots over the tattoo.  Barry isn't a fan of tattoos, all though last night he did claim that if he was to get one, it'd be the label of his favourite bottle of wine!  No surprises there.