Cutie Pie looking at Uncle Paul

Drake-2 months to the day

A couple of OOPs'

Here's To Me Mrs. Robinson

I think I am getting old. There I said it. OLD OLD OLD.
If anyone looked at the last four rolls of film that I have taken, he would see that I am a baby fanatic. There are pictures of Drake sleeping, staring, frowning, laying there not doing very much. The funniest part is that Drake isn't even three months old yet. His grandmother Denise, probably has twelve rolls already. Am I like a grandma, at the ripe age of 19... I am always thinking about him and wanting to see him whenever I pass their street. It's sick really. I have baby fever. The real question is what will I be like when my sister or brother, or friends have children or better yet, what will I be like when I have my own? Even sicker I assume. Hopefully I'm not a paranoid mother that never lets my child leave the house without twenty layers of clothing and sunscreen. I can hear myself now.. "The sun is looking mighty bright today, even in December you can't be sure."

I heard this terrible thing on the radio this morning going to work. A five year old girl was killed by her loose shirt and a slide in a park. She was innocently going for a quick thrill down a playground slide when her shirt hooked around her little neck and strangled her to death. Wow, image what her mother feels like today and for the rest of her life when she is near a park or not. I can't imagine for the life of me what that would feel like for a number of reasons. I haven't had any children and so I wouldn't know what it would feel like to be afraid of losing any. Not to mention, this poor little girl's family must be feeling completely awful thinking that a quick stop at the park ended their babie's short lived life. I was thinking that if that were my child, I would never let any of my other children play in a park again. But that's a ridiculous rule for any child. So I think how would I be a good mother in any situation? It's quite the question really, one that I am not sure I would be able to answer.

I look forward to motherhood, very much so. I know this sounds shamefully old fashioned, but I think I am here to have children. If I can't become a mother, than what am I supposed to do? Now I am not saying that I would be utterly useless if I was not a baby-machine. I know that I have talent that I can benefit from and I still would, being a mother. But I would be so heart broken if I couldn't have babies of my very own. Some girls grow up to dream of their wedding day and who their husband will be or of becoming lawyers and doctors... I never dreamed about those things. I was a few steps ahead of those little girls. My head was in the clouds, wondering what I would name my twin girls, because I was having them DAMNIT and how I would look pregnant, etc. Quite the dreamer..huh. "I don't want to be famous or have a successful job that I, as a woman can be proud of... I want babies!"

Now that I am in a serious relationship, I am not thinking about having babies, don't worry. I really like my life right now, visiting other people's babies. I don't think that I would be ready now to make any drastic decisions, unless of course it was an OOPS. Then I would allow an early arrival. I was an OOPs and I am damn proud that my mom didn't get rid of me. I think in this day and age..there are a lot more OOPs' than planned babies. The world will be populated almost entirely by OOPs'.

Enough about all of that, I still think that I am an old woman inside of this 19 year old body. I always have a couple of tissues on me and more than once, I've stuck the tissue under my watch band. WOW, Grandma. I also drive very cautiously, always stopping fully at red lights and stop signs, as well as properly lane changing and only speeding a little... I love seeing kids and babies and toddlers. I forget who is watching and make faces at all of them, hoping to get a giggle or a scream in return. Then I look up and see the parents looking at me strangely or a passerby wondering if I am a little slow.. If I am acting like a grannie at 19 who knows what I'll be acting like once I actually reach 60...a vegetable? I am not too worried though. I like being an OLDIE for the time being.

The Perfect Couple

A Demanding Road Ahead...

Being someone's mother is a huge responsibility. I always thought that when women have babies it's exciting and it'll be so rewarding in the end. I still believe that. But I never really thought about how a baby right before my own eyes would evolve into a young child.

I went to a baby shower for my future sister in law, Kristen. She had many people there from mainly her fiance's side. He has a very large family and there are many aunties and cousins to get to know. There were a couple of young kids there. I hate to say this, but at a certain point there comes a time when a child just gets annoying. Always asking questions and needing attention, their mother's attention all of the time. A baby can't speak, it cries and sleeps. But a child can nanner on and on and on forever if he felt up to it. I find that these kids are a handful and all babies no matter how cute they are, turn into that eventually. Having children is a huge deal and I've always known that, but moreso now. But I admire Kristen so much for having her baby boy. She is a young mother, just turning twenty two a few weeks ago. She has a lot on her plate for basically the rest of her life. A baby turns into that nose picking eight year old, demanding attention. And the eight year old turns into a young teen desperate to be old enough to stay out past 10:00. That teen graduates, hopefully, and still needs attention and love from his parents. I still need my parents to this day and I'm almost twenty. Raising a child doesn't end at 18 like it is often said to. It never does. Having a baby isn't just having a baby, it is having a human being that depends on me forever, until the day that I die and even after that as well.

I salute young women that decide to have those babies that are slowly developing in their tummies. Kristen was surprised to find last year that she was one of those girls that just happened to be pregnant, and not having planned it. There are a lot of those these days. She owned up to her responsiblility of a woman and held her head high and let that belly grow. Despite what her own parents felt and others too I am sure. She was strong and stuck to it, even after finding out that her future baby boy had complications. She remained courageous and took care of herself and her son. She made sure to eat properly to ensure that he would be receiving the proper nutrients, fighting the cravings to eat badly. (She said she didn't have many, but I don't believe her.)

March 15, 2005 Kristen gave birth to a healthy, wide-eyed baby boy, Drake. He was transported to another hospital across the city for his very first operation. Drake was surrounded by tubes and machines beeping and buzzing. Kristen stayed confident that things would improve and they did. She finally held her baby boy a few weeks after his arrival. He was home in a little less than a month I believe, healthy and quite happy I am sure.

I admire Kristen for being such a wonderful woman through all of this. She did happen to go through much of it on her own, which wasn't easy. But not once did I hear her complain. It was her life now, Drake first, Kristen second. Now she's raising a wonderful little boy. The expressions on his face show his changing moods. His most common noises are grumbling and the sounds of him sucking on his bottle. I love him already and I can't imagine Kristen's love for him, having been with him everyday since he was born. Even though I am not Drake's true aunty, I am welcomed like I am by Kristen and everyone else. It's an amazing feeling, holding a little baby in my arms. As I feed him, it seems as though he stares into my soul. I have no idea how a baby does that, but he really does. Kristen is a strong woman and evidentally Drake has inherited that from her.

The Senior Enforcer

The Enforcer Junior

The Victim

The Enforcer

Lately that is all I have been; the enforcer. I am a crazy person on a rampage if the chores are not being done. It is really difficult for me to let it go when I can clearly see that my requests have been ignored repeatedly. So today is chore day. I vowed as a child that loathed "chore day" that I too would never be that enforcer. Look at me now... demanding for the kitchen to be swept and mopped. I have become my mother, in so many ways. I am avoiding any contact with my personal housekeeper so as not to instruct him step by step on how to clean. That's another beautiful trait I have inherited from my dear mom. When I am tidying things up, I make her leave the room altogether, so that I can clean in peace. I hate to admit it, but it's the best thing for me to do now as well.

It's not that he's lazy all the time. He just lacks the common knowledge to get in there and dust if it looks dusty. I realize that he is a male and males are always a bit slower in most cases of cleaning. Some are amazing and more neat and tidy than myself. But then there is the common male, that doesn't see how much work it takes to clean a bathroom and not only have it shiny, but trying to maintain that shine for at least 48 hours. He doesn't seem to appreciate it until he himself has cleaned it.

I also find that I am impatient and can't wait an entire week for Sunday, when he feels it is time to clean. I have to get these things done as they bother me throughtout the entire week. See how crazy I am on this entire subject? It's scary really. Don't get me wrong, I hate cleaning as much as the next guy. But it needs to be done so that the place doesn't look like a train just road through it.

I am also leaving out the most important part. My enforcer will be coming home tonight, arriving in the largest city near our town. So we will be picking her up tomorrow afternoon and bringing her home. She will have a fit if the house is not up to par. So I have to make sure that everyone is pulling their weight with the house work. I don't want to have to do everything. That is why I am the crazy one at these times of cleaning.

I have made an objective to seriously follow one day when I have children of my own. I will not clean up after every thing that they do. I will make them tidy early on so as to save them from numerous future fights with their spouses on this very subject. I blame moms that don't enforce these rules on their children early. It is ideal that a child learns how to sweep and windex a mirror every once in awhile. It is something that they will all thank me for later. I am happy that I clean up after myself so that I don't have to learn the hard way... through my boyfriend because that can be a hard one to swallow.

The View From My Backyard

Morning Delight..

Good Morning. Wow I haven't been up early on my own will for a long time. I woke at my usual 7:16 to prepare for my typical day at work. As I ate my Mini-Wheats I begged Paul to buy, thinking now that it wasn't such a good idea with them quickly mushing up in my bowl, I received a phone call from work. I don't have to work today anymore. Wahoo I thought. But after my better half left for his day of labour, I realized that I didn't want to go back to bed. So here I am appreciating my early morning. Unfortunately at this time of the year, 6:00 am is the most beautiful time in the morning, with the sun peaking just barely above the mountains. Instead, there isn't much sunlight and the day to come doesn't look promising.

It's rodeo season and I am not feeling like I am being appropriately festive at this time. I have only worn my cowboy hat once and that was only for minutes before my friend Morgan and I set out for a few drinks, which would soon be too many considering how many we consumed prior to the bar. Which is why I was wearing the cowboy hat in the first place. I am not a true cowboy but I do appreciate the attire that comes with it. I always enjoy a cowboy that can sing and play the guitar around the fire. A man with a guitar... I have realized that that kind of a man is my favourite.

Talent is sexy. A guy that has talent in anything, useful of course I find rather intriguing. I love watching a guy do something that he is exceptionally good at. I don't know if the same goes for men when it comes to us ladies. If so I am afraid that writing isn't a very seductive talent opposed to a man ripping around on a dirt bike or a hottie strumming on his guitar serenading me with his sexy voice. All in all, I am delighted that I do have some kind of talent. My man, Paul is a talented guy that I am sure a lot of young ladies notice most of the time. He sings and plays the guitar most affectionately. He loves music and everything that goes with it. It's always a delight when I love a song and he wants to learn it so that he can sing it to me. One band; Lifehouse. Yes, he has taken a liking to my most favourite song that is sung by Lifehouse; "Take Me Away." I have no idea what the lead singer's name is, but he has a very sexy voice and my Paul is working on the song as of yesterday, which can't help make me greatful for his efforts. He'll kick ass singing it in about a week's time given some practice. I am so excited.

It being the morning still, my thoughts are fairly scrambled and it is evident in my blog today. But as I sit here content in my pajama pants and work shirt still, I am happy to be willingly awake today. It's nice to appreciate times like this... Who am I kidding really, I almost guarantee that as soon as this blog is published I'll hit the pillow. I am awake, yet I don't really feel like tidying up the house or doing any of my errands I set out to do today. Oh well, it has been a nice morning, especially the part when I was told that I didn't have to work today. A lazy morning, perhaps?

Satisfied with my Choices

Windex OR Back-Pack??

Lately I feel like all I ever do is work. But I am sure many people feel this way. Most people, who am I kidding? Now I used to love to wait tables but now I find that I don't enjoy the public so much. So now I work as a housekeeper at the Best Western. At first people look at me and tell me that I am better than that and I don't need to clean up after people. My question is; who then deserves to clean up after filthy, disgusting, nasty, stinky men and their numerous wenches that they bring home from the bar? Really, who really deserves that kind of work? No one, that's who. But like everyone says, somebody's got to do it. And so that is where my lovely self comes in. Each day, with my hair pulled back, and my "bib" Paul likes to call it. It's my uniform, that is so poorly made, it's embarrassing to wear at times. All the time. I come to work, sometimes on time, usually a few minutes later than the rest. No one minds, because I have to clean toilets and who really wants to yell at a person for being late fully aware that that very person has a good four hours of pube removing, as I like to call it. Ohh, the beauty of housekeeping. The question really is; why do I do it, for the pittance I receive? For some reason, I enjoy cleaning. It's a great way to relieve stress.

Today for instance, I was rather hung over from a night full of events. When I woke this morning, I felt like a piece of gum chewed by a bum laying in the streets of Toronto. But once I started making beds and windexing mirrors, I felt great. I like my job. It's petty and simple, but hey so am I. I thought about my friends in university and college in far away lands and I wondered if I would be happier if I too chose that expected path. For awhile I actually stressed over that very question and now I don't regret anything. No regrets. Life in my small town with one boyfriend and one or two friends that still live here, was all I needed this year. After highschool, after all the dramatic events such as prom and graduation I realized that life can be a whole lot simpler. Do I really need to go to some college for something I don't really want? Do I need to prove to this town that I am better than everyone else because I left at the first chance that I got? No. Trends. Highschool is full of them, and life is even more jam packed with them. It seems to me that University and College have turned into trends. It's important to go yes, but make sure that it's for the right reasons and the right reasons only.

I have a lot of time to ponder my thoughts as I vacuum and dust night-stands. I think about anything and everything that my mind will allow me to. I love thinking. It's therapeutic and makes a person wiser. I also don't mind walking in on the odd naked man in his room either. No I actually really don't like bursting through the door shouting, "Housekeeping!" and finding a poor, surprised man laying with his blankets off, naked. It's rather embarrassing for both of us. Especially when that very man runs into me a few times before he checks out forever. It's all part of the housekeeping experience. Waterspots, dirty floors, stained sheets and naked men.

I trust my choices because I figure by now I seem to know what I am doing. At least that's how I feel today. Who knows how I'll be feeling tomorrow...

Waiting on a Moment...

In all honesty, I have bad feelings bubbling up inside of me. He acts differently these days..
He isn't the same as he used to be and I wonder how much longer it will take before he finally realizes that I am not as good as he could get. I write about my most personal feelings because I don't think that many people read my blog anyway... I told my sister and my grannie to read it whenever they get a chance to, but they have lives of their own, so I'm assuming that they won't get to reading this anyway. I say fuck it, what kind of a writer am I if I don't share my utterly true feelings?

There's a deep aching going on inside of my chest everytime he looks at me and I don't see what I used to see in his eyes. He doesn't have that sparkle anymore. Maybe I'm being insecure, but it's in my gut and I can't keep ignoring it any longer. It's not going to be long before he realizes I'm a fraud, nothing special, controlling little twit of a girlfriend and he'll leave. He won't leave just yet because I have a feeling he feels trapped... He can't leave, not now after all that has happened with my dad. That would be wrong, horrifying...what would everyone think? He hates to admit it, but that is very important to him... what everyone thinks in the long run. He won't even read this blog, not unless I tell him to. So I know my secret insecurity is safe. He is beginning to realize how good looking he is, and how many girls look his way. I used to ignore it, thinking he's mine and will be forever. Suddenly it makes me jealous and I begin to worry. What if he sees a beautiful young girl, and finally sees that I am just washed out and boring? At least that's how I feel these days...

I must be depressed today or something. I am not usually this negative. I wonder what it is making me feel this way. Oh well, just needed to share.

It's just a feeling...

Energizer Mummy

Everyone has a mom. They may not know her, they may hate her, they may think the world of her... the list of possibilities are endless. For me, my mom is everything to me. I know that in a mother's womb, a child is said to bond the most with his mother. But I find now, in struggling times, I bond with her the most.

Kim, such a simple, somewhat dull name doesn't serve my mom justice. Yet, she gives the name Kim more meaning just by being who she is. My mom truly is amazing. She has had a tough life yet she's always smiling. She's positive and is always concerned with everyone else around her. Which can pose a problem. She is walked on, and has been all of her life. My mom will always think of others, even in times when it is her that is in desperate need of attention. When my dad was in the hospital slowly giving in to the cancer, she wanted to make sure that all of the family was okay and taken care of. Even though she was the one in the most pain of all; losing her one and only. She has been through a divorce with my real dad and had to raise three kids all on her own. Her childhood..? Aren't they all screwed up in some form or another? Other's more difficult to overcome than most. Yet she's somewhat like the 'Energizer Bunny'... she just keeps going and with each difficulty in her life... makes her go even harder and stately as ever.

She's my rock, as I've mentioned before. She survives and with that, inspires those around her to do the same. My mom and I are a lot alike in many ways. Before when I was in the snotty, teen stages, that would ignite many arguements. But now it seems to have rendered us closer together. In a sense, we , as in the two of us are in a seperate family of our own. I say this because I feel that we have gone through the very most together, out of anyone else I have been encountered with in my life. My brother and sister may not agree with me, but it seems that way to me. They have been through the same and most definetly more than I have because they were older when my parents were divorced. Yet, I still feel because I am the youngest and still live at home with my mom, that we are going through the very most we might ever have to in our lives at this very point. The loss of a husband, and the loss of the best dad I'll ever know, all under the same roof. I must admit, it's hectic and at times rather depressing here. But it is making me stronger. It is shaping the person that I am becoming. With that, I can't hate what has happened... If this hadn't happened, I wouldn't be who I am today and will be tomorrow.

My mom is who she is because of what she has endured in her life. She is my angel, the person I want to become as I grow into the woman I will be...

My Mom