Dragons Live Forever

Today my first born, my baby, turns eight. Eight; how can this be?  Each year older he gets I get to know him in a new and amazing way but it also means that little boy I used to hold in my arms is being replaced by a memory. 

I’ll never forget the day when he was three and we sat on his bed listening to Puff the Magic Dragon. I had heard this song many times before so I was completely unprepared for the flood of emotion that came over me as I sang the words to him that day: A dragon lives forever but not so little boys. I fell to pieces right there in the middle of the song and those words have haunted me to this day.

He actually asked me what I was writing today and I told him it was a poem for his birthday. He asked me to read it to him and just the thought of saying the words out loud made me start to cry. He was definitely confused at this point and asked me why I was crying. All I could say to him was that it is hard for me to let him grow up. He looked at me and said, “Mom, I’m only turning eight.”

He was right. He is only eight. He is still a little boy and one who is starting to recognize his place in the world. I love watching him grow up and one day I’ll embrace his wings as much as I much as I do his roots.

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A Poem for Nicholas on his 8^th Birthday

Brave, tough and stubborn

Curious, wild and beautiful
It’s as if I can see all the pieces
Of the man you will be
                    falling
                         into
                                place

Strong, kind and admired

Curious, wild and beautiful
Each question, answer, triumph and frustration
Arming you for your journey ahead.

Selfishly I cling to you

Trying to hold onto my little boy
Who slips away from me with
                    each
                       passing
                            day

Eyes rolling, groaning “Mom”
You fly out the door
To your next big adventure.

You run back to hug me
and tell me that you love me
I wrap my arms around you
and then I
                    set
                         you
                           free.

Someone Like You

Note: This story is best read while listening to Adele’s Someone Like You. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLQl3WQQoQ0&ob=av2e

Driving yesterday I found myself lost in Adele’s Someone Like You.  Listening to the lyrics, I remembered a time in my life when these words would have really meant something and God, I don’t miss those days.  Love Hurts isn’t just a song. It’s reality that many of us lived starting in our teens and only presumably ending when we finally found ‘the one’.

I hadn’t taken a trip down this memory lane in a long time.  Who would want to?  All the highs and lows of our first loves and the agony of the breakups, it’s painful just to think about.  Playing that song (you know the one) over and over again until you were one with the words. Because, if you could just sing it to them then they would finally know and understand your pain.

I connected with this song in a different way than I would have fifteen years ago. I was actually thinking about my daughters - that the treacherous journey of unrequited love still lay ahead for them.  I can protect my girls from so many things, but this I can never save them from.  I weep at the thought of their fragile hearts having to endure all of the heartbreak and pain. But, in the same breath I wouldn’t change a thing. Well, ok, there are some things (ok, ok, a lot of things) that if I could I would go back and erase but, for the most part, I’d live it all over.  I’d live it all over because somehow in some way it got me into the arms of my husband.

A good love song doesn’t cut like a knife or offer me some form of therapy anymore. It’s just a moving song that sings about a part of my life I left behind a long time ago. But somewhere, under a heap of damp tissues and duvets, some poor wretch is singing her heart out to Someone Like You with Adele with her shattered heart strewn about the room. I wish I could give her a hug and tell her everything will be ok, just like I wish I could go back and give myself a hug and share the same wisdom. 

I can’t spare my precious daughters their own journeys through the euphoria and devastation of love and I guess I shouldn’t want to.  Part of our human experience is to endure the highs and the lows and to learn to grow from it all.  And sometimes, it a crazy way, in feels good to hurt to know that you’re truly alive.

The Bad Mood Blues

I think the high of my best Thanksgiving ever has left me with a happiness hangover.  I’m not wired to sustain that level of joy and contentedness for so many consecutive days in a row without there being some form of emotional fallout.  I was just too happy.  I’m exhausted from all the happiness.

I have some solace (a lot, actually) in the fact that many of my friends are under a gray haze these days as well.  Misery loves company and it’s a full party right now.  We give each other half, forced smiles and sulk about our business. This particular rut of mine hasn’t been brought upon by any specific incident, it’s just here, hanging around like an annoying…oh, I don’t know, something really annoying.

I also have a dull headache and I’m not sure which came first, it or the mood.  Has my grumpiness  actually manifested itself in a physical form?  Next, I fear I may grow horns and a tail with a spear at the end of it. My husband would argue this has already happened. The wrong word (or look for the matter) from him and I turn into some sort of caged animal, except I’m not caged. My God, who am I?

Right now I am overly sensitive to the words and actions of others.  I am overly sensitive to things that wouldn’t normally bother me. I am overanalyzing and, in general, just a little over the top.  One thing I am not is a pretender.  I don’t pretend that my life is always perfect or that I always do the right thing or that I’m always happy. But I embrace it all; the good, the bad and the ugly and it’s the ugly that makes the good so much sweeter when it’s here.

I’ve never liked roller coasters but it’s like I’m permanently stuck on one.  I guess I’ll enjoy the ride back to the top as tonight I have prescribed myself a remedy to cure this bummer mood.  I’ll get into my pajamas before 6pm, order a pizza and watch a Halloween movie with my kids.  It puts me in a better mood just thinking about being in a good mood again.  That’ll learn me for being so damn happy.

The Fall Frolic

Last weekend, Eric and I were guests at a wonderful, annual party held by our good friends at their cottage.  The weekend’s activities were based on celebrating the love and partnership between you and your spouse.  I don’t know about you, but I do a much better job of adoring my husband when there is no pressure and it isn’t the expectation. Well, I suppose a good wife would always adore her husband but, who’s kidding who?  There was just a lot of pressure going into the whole thing to get along and be happy.  Remember I said this was a celebration, not a challenge.

Eric and I led up to our ‘getaway’ by yelling at each other while we were trying to get the kids out of the house. I seem to recall both of us saying, “I can’t believe I have to go to this with you!” We were off to a good start. Leaving the house to go anywhere is never easy though so I had anticipated this minor road bump.  We settled down and made a pit stop to pick up a milkshake at a local ice cream shop. While at the counter I laughed when I saw a sign that read – Milkshakes are known to reduce tension.  Eric then turned to the server and said, “My wife will take two.” Really?

The car ride there was a good chance for us both to relax and get into a mood a little more appropriate for a weekend of love.  We arrived to the cottage and were greeted by our hosts and the other ‘frolickers’.  I quickly threw down a glass of champagne. Those who know me, know I don’t drink often, but I thought it was a necessity for this particular weekend. You see, not only was there pressure to be ‘in love’ but also to be fun. And fun is not a characteristic people would usually (ever) use to describe me.

It’s definitely a shortcoming of mine which is exaggerated even more by how fun Eric is.  And at this particular party I was surrounded by a bunch of fun people, just like Eric.  So, it was bottoms up for me, and let the good times roll.  Fast forward to the dance portion of the evening and see me doing the running man for the very first time. Everyone was very impressed by my new found skill. I was owning fun.

But, all good things must come to an end, and just like Cinderella at the stroke of midnight, at about the stroke of 10:59, I changed back into boring Lori.  At this point, Eric’s fun factor was just irritating and I knew it was time for me to call it a night.  Eric’s alcohol intake also caught up to him and he ‘fell asleep’ before I was even done brushing my teeth.

After a lovely breakfast we said our goodbyes and headed home. I looked back through the images of the weekend and on our camera was the proof that not only do I have moves but, when infused with just the right amount of alcohol, I can be fun too.  We drove back, tea and coffee in hand, enjoying the beautiful colours of my favourite season.  I felt re-energized, connected to my husband and proud of myself for moving (very unnaturally) out of my comfort zone.  All of this, of course, came to a screeching halt the minute we stepped through our front door and were greeted by the rest of our family. But, the memories of the frolic live on and I hope one day to frolic again.

A Taste of Thanksgiving

As Thanksgiving approaches, one must enjoy the anticipation of the most delicious meal of the year.  I personally can’t wait to be put into my tryptophan induced slumber, wake up in a turkey fog and enjoy the whole meal all over again layered between two slices of warm bread.

I am famous for two things at Thanksgiving – my bread stuffing and my homemade cranberry sauce. Well, to be truthful, everyone loves my stuffing but I’m the only one who appreciates the cranberry sauce – so a famous in my own mind kind of thing.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Bread Stuffing - It ain’t fancy but it’s amazing. I usually double the recipe.

2 celery stalks – finely chopped
1 medium onion – finely chopped
¾ cup (1 ½ sticks) butter
9 cups (~14 slices) soft bread cubes
(I use half white and half brown)
1 teaspoon salt
½ teaspoon sage
½ teaspoon thyme
¼ teaspoon pepper

Melt the butter in a large pot over medium heat.  Cook the celery and onion in butter 6-8 minutes, stirring occasionally, until tender.  Remove from heat.

Gently toss the celery mixture with the bread cubes, thyme, salt, sage and pepper until the bread cubes are evenly coated.

Put into an oven safe bowl and cover. Heat for between 30-60 minutes.  It could be made the day before and kept in the fridge. It can also be stuffed in the bird (obviously) if that’s what you prefer.

Cranberry Sauce

4 cups fresh or frozen cranberries
2 cups water
2 cups sugar

Heat the water and sugar to boiling in a saucepan over medium heat, stirring occasionally. Continue boiling 5 minutes longer, stirring occasionally.

Stir in the cranberries. Get back to boiling, stirring occasionally until cranberries begin to ‘pop’, about 5 minutes.  Remove from heat and pour the sauce into a bowl. Refrigerate about 3 hours or until chilled.

Mmmmm….so good.

Family Night

It was a friend of mine who first introduced me to the idea of family night. For some reason it really intrigued me. Why weren’t we having family night? What kind of family doesn’t have a family night? The very words rang of togetherness and connectedness. I think it really stuck with me because we always seem to be so busy and while we’re most often all together, it usually also involves friends or family or two people doing one thing and the rest doing another.

Family night is a night where everyone has to be home, no one is invited over and we all do something together.  We always have it on the same night and we choose a day during the week.  Weekends are just too busy and there are too many chances it could be interrupted by other plans.  It is such a simple idea but it always seems to resonate with people, as it did with me, when I tell them about it.    

Family night could really be called movie night at our house as that has become our chosen activity.  It`s like a family night for lazy people. We order pizza for dinner and we eat it early.  I mean, we’re done eating by 5:30 at the latest.  This ensures plenty of time to watch the movie and still get the kids to bed at a decent time.

Family night just feels good.  The kids look so forward to it and we know we’ve made them feel special just by being with them and only them.  Now, Eric and I have been known to doze off during the movie but unless he starts snoring the kids are none the wiser.  Having Chloe around has added another element to our night but we usually just let her throw popcorn around to entertain herself.

As the kids get older, I would like to see family night evolve a little. Maybe we could play board games, go out to dinner, see a movie at the theatre or take in something cultural. But for now, while family outings can quickly turn disastrous, movies at home are just right for our family night.