"Mama, you can't give in to him like that!"  How many times am I caught off guard by moments like this--surreal! Hosea is advising me on parenting.  This morning, too, I had that all-too-familiar scene with a little one about socks, socks being too tight or having something pokey in them or just not feeling right once the shoes are put on. Seriously Joey? I thought I only had to do that with Hosea? Sock and shoe drama was such a thing with that guy when he was pre-kindergarten. No not these shoes! No they're too tight! No they're too big! No I can't run fast in those! No these ones no these ones no there's something in my SHOE!!!  Traumatizing, really.  For ME. Ok? How much extra time should I have left to make space for that part of any transition? I never learned. And now, here was Joey this morning doing something similar. Only, thankfully I wasn't in a rush like I always felt with Hosea. And...really...Joey doesn't have the stamina that other g...

 ...And Now I Feel Lighter 1. My Favourite Pants 'Twas love at first sight My favourite pants and I Hanging on that rack You did so excite My thrift store heart Clothes, an art Collections  Selections Perfection, the fabric Soft, just right The fit, not too tight I could tell just by looking No need to try on Tiger faces a-roar No tag inside to inspect The price just right: Two dollars My Favourite Pants  2. Here Comes My Man Is that him, again, that riff-raff look? Cycling up that hill? No helmet (no brains?!), just touque (so Canadian!!) No visibility gear Just green, maybe some rips, the pants from yesterday And the day before that And the day before that Hands in pockets, no need to steer Maybe filming, or photoing, or texting me now Sending a song Or, finding his route Heart a-flutter, it might be him!  Serendipity again! Whoops, twas Mistaken But grateful he'll be-a-home later I'll save the flutter  Till then  3. Gloves Leaving a site I realize I have...

These days I try try try to just only look at Facebook for my own memories. Wow how selfish and self absorbed of me! Wow I used to post a lot!  I try to just stick with that little Memories button, and then not veer elsewhere. But you know how the lure is...it's strong. It's not long before I scroll down a bit, just to see what that first person there is saying. Oh but maybe it's an ad. So I have to scroll down a bit further. Oh good, there's something! Oh sh-- I've done it again!  How do I know? I start to get that empty scrolling feeling. That junk food weak brain feeling. Maybe I start to feel a little pissed off, a little trigger happy like I might just need to Say Something...but...for what? Maybe I start to feel a little inadequate. A little lonely. Log Out. Maybe if I Log Out I won't come on again tomorrow.  ... Repeat. Sometimes tomorrow. Sometimes not for a few days.  ... Probably this is a bit how an addict feels. A Person With An Addiction. ... Maybe ...

Remember that song? Petula Clark's. "Downtown" used to be the place to be! Now...well I don't know about your downtown but... I've even heard my old, dear Seattle downtown is not the way it used to be. I used to be a little more naive, and downtowns used to be a little more safe. Now, I keep my wits about me. If my music is on a little too loud on my bike ride home, I turn it down. I don't want any sneak ups or anything like that! For example: just today there was someone yelling and behaving quite erratically right near the bike path on my way home. Broad daylight, lots of people out...but.  For example: on the first day of my new job someone was stabbed to death and another person had their hand cut off. Right at a couple of intersections I pass by on my bike. About an hour before I passed by. "Don't worry, it appears to have been random attacks, perpetrated by the same person"--the news told us. "Don't worry, the person has a history ...

My eyes have changed, because I see differently now.  Apparently it's even apparent in photos--who knew?   When I was a wee one my first dance recital was to the song It's an Upside-down World Now I'm older, much older, and I have begun to ask questions such as: Why do we celebrate a day of Truth and Reconciliation by wearing orange shirts? A day where we collectively admonish our colonial heritage, and bring awareness to its violence and ongoing consequences All while colonialist wars are raging, amping up by the hour Why? Why are we guilted to shame for our part in the colonialism While the government(s) responsible still do not provide clean water for the people we are supposedly honouring? While the government(s) responsible seem to only care about bombing other indigenous people While the government(s) responsible still uphold a local system where indigenous people are in foster care and incarceration at rates far out of proportion? It's an Upside-down World Where ...

It's that time of year! Summer camp! Last week Therese went. She went to an overnight, more hardcore kind of camp, where they did things like "out trips" and backpacking. That's not really her thing, but she was game to give it a try since the version she usually goes to had a waitlist. "Is she active, can she handle the physical demands of it?" they'd asked, just to make sure it'd be the right fit. I considered how she'd just demonstrated to Hosea, in fed-up-ed-ness, that she'd definitely passed him up in jiu jitsu moves, I considered how she's definitely much more tough than people might anticipate, "Oh yeah, she'll be fine." "Yeah we're just asking cause last year some people came who weren't able to keep up, and they had to go home early...".  That's not the kind of camp I've ever been to! I always went to "church camp", as we called it. First, it was a horse camp. Why? I was never one...