Affirmation?

The internet is an amazing, wonderful place. Or maybe a thing. Since it doesn’t actually have a location, per se, I guess it can’t actually be a place, can it?

But,

What I wanted to say was that I have been spending more and more time (1) reading blogs, and (2) exploring FaceBook. It’s actually getting scary. My kids are starting to act out or act up to get my attention whenever I look in the direction of the computer, but that seems to be a price I’m willing to pay (sorry, kids!) to get in some reading time.

We widders seem to have a curious inability to read for long periods of time; I haven’t been able to manage a whole novel since Willis died. Other stuff, the lovely short snippets from an intelligent woman’s blog, are ideal for engaging my mind and imagination (sorry kids!).

I’ve been following the exploits of the shepherding and fibre arts community- I love hearing about a lifestyle I covet (farming), without being remotely disciplined enough (or practical enough) to make such a lifestyle work. I also have issues around working hard, too, and I’m pretty sure that farming is hard work…

All this voyeurism of other peoples’ lives leaves me wondering what I AM good at, or maybe just what I AM. I’m not a writer, except in an absent-minded kind of way. The other things I dabble in, like sewing, or animals, or painting, or computers, or reading, or photography are all things that these women I’ve been reading or bumping into on-line delve into with passion and discipline and ability, and I just don’t measure up. Not that I need to (measure up, that is), you understand: I’m just about grown-up enough to avoid believing that my self-worth is reliant on my ability to be as good as, or better than, someone at something…

**********

Naw, it’s for sure: I do NOT measure my self-worth by comparing myself to others- afterall, there will always be greater and lesser folks than myself. I know, “fer sher”, that although I avoid dishes and housework, and embrace procrastination and tardiness, I AM good with MY kids, MY animals, MY Rob, MY grief, MY work. The one thing I have locked up, that I do better than anybody else does, is be me.

We got the house!!!!!

Whooo hooo!!!

Our house?

I’ve been on quite a journey for the last 9 months. In the middle of January, I was so lonely. I’d been widowed almost 5 months, and I felt as though I had proved to myself, and whoever else might have been keeping score, that I had proved that I could “do it” on my own. I was managing the solo-parenting, I was managing the grief, but I was bone-deep lonely. I started looking around on Lavalife, just to see what (who) was “out there”.

Pretty quickly, I saw that if I wanted to find someone to hang out with while I was hanging out with the kids, I would need to put up a profile. I was surprised with how much interest there was in a recently widowed woman with two small kids, but I guess there are men who have been sufficiently bruised by life’s turbulence that they are not total “DGI’s”. (Don’t Get It)

Rob and I met in person after a few days of corresponding through the site, with all four kids in tow, on February 4th. A few more days of lengthy phone calls late into the night, and we were truly “hooked” on each other. In the magical haze of new love, we made plans to join our lives and families as soon as possible.

Getting Rob’s house ready to sell took him about 5 months; it has been on the market for two-and-a-half months. In the time it has been on the market, we have received 5 offers on the place. Offer #1, a few days after listing, was insultingly low. Offer #2, two months after listing, was even lower. The counter-offer (offer 2b) was still lower than offer #1. Offer #3 was adequate, and we accepted it. The home inspector for these purchasers found what he reported as several problem areas- unfortunately, he failed to note that the upgrades that Rob has completed on the place actually corrected these problems, and turned them into assets, but the damage was done and the offer was withdrawn.

Offer #4 was made by the same folks who put in offers number 2 and 2b: offer #4 was LOWER than offer #2B- wtf??? We already knew they were prepared to pay more. Fortunately, at the eleventh hour, as Rob and I were deciding to move into his house for the winter, offer #5 came in at list price, which we accepted with alacrity. What a ride to get to a place where we could consider doing some serious house shopping of our own! Although the contract on the accepted offer is to be finalized on Wednesday (the day after my birthday), we think this one is going to be fine.

So….

We went house-hunting on date night, and we found a house we love. We went again in daylight to see it today, with all four kids, and our very tolerant realtor. We put in an offer, which the realtor is presenting RIGHT NOW, at this minute. By the time you finish reading this, we may know whether we got the house….

Friends

Recent posts of Shel's and Alicia's on this subject got me thinking.

Amongst my online cohorts are people who are friends, and people who might become friends with the passage of time. There are a number of people with whom I have had only peripheral contact, but whom I admire because of their resilience, compassion, skill or attitude.

In my offline life, I have friends of various categories, too. One of these friends is my boss. (She doesn’t like it when I call her that…) I’ve worked with her for 12 years- it’s a fairly small business, so for the most part, we’ve worked quite closely during that time.

We’ve become family. She stood up with me at my wedding to my late husband, Willis. (We were married on October 10th, 2003- happy anniversary, baby.) She attended the homebirth of my daughter, Sydney, and was Sam’s support person during that time. She came up to the hospital after Willis was killed.

We’ve cared for each other’s children, we’ve run a Sparks (the youngest denomination of Girl Guides in Canada) unit together, I was there when the family’s beloved and ancient cat finally slipped away. I have listened to hours of complaints and frustration about her projects, children, various staff members.

Sometimes, we annoy each other like crazy. Sometimes, our individual insecurities cause us to doubt the strength of our friendship and our loyalty to each other. She was experiencing one of those angst-filled moments recently. Life had been piling up its usual debris on her doorstep, and she was dissolving into tears. As I hugged her, she lamented that she had feared that I would be “poached” by a recently ex-staff member, and could switch allegiances and workplaces. I assured her that this was not going to happen; the difference in the quality of medicine alone in each of the locations would assure this. The next part of my response surprised me (and her, too!): I told her I loved her. It’s true, but it’s still slightly shocking to me that I would say this out loud.

I have other friends I know I feel love for; there’s no very good reason I don’t say this to them. Given how fragile life can be, and how alone we are on our journey through it, it makes sense to say out loud how much we appreciate and care for our friends. I hope I have the courage to say it aloud to my friends: I love you.

Meanderings

I looked over at my "evil" neighbour's car today, and instead of cursing it, as I have been for the last month, I felt some peace. Sam reported that she waved toward us this weekend, as we happened to cross paths in the parking lot. Perhaps she feels less rage herself. I have no interest in friendship with her, but a certain peace would be a good thing.

Even if Rob and I manage to keep ourselves and our behaviour focused on the important things once we move in together, how will his boys, ages 9 & 11, do with sharing their space? If we move into Rob's house, we would take over the tenant's suite in the basement, and it would make fine, new accommodations for the boys. They would each get their own bedroom downstairs, and they would have a bathroom, and their animals. I think it sounds okay, but it's a lot to ask of them- to share their house and their dad with the rest of us.

We have another offer coming in tomorrow- the fourth offer. This is actually the same couple who made offer number 2, which was insultingly low. Their counter-offer response was pretty bad, too, so we went our separate ways. They know we accepted offer number 3, which was withdrawn after the inspection. They may have guessed at the magic number- if they match the amount of the offer we accepted, we'll take it, and work on Plan A- buying a house together. If the offer is crappy, I'll be blogging some more about Plan B- moving into Rob's house...

I made myself a "star chart" today- my tardiness is becoming problematic again, and this is one suggestion of how to train myself into better habits. I was having a lot of trouble coming up with "rewards", or positive reinforcements for succeeding at the incremental steps needed for punctuality. The chart outlines a bunch of those steps, and I'm gonna, with the participation of the kids, give myself a star for each step I accomplish towards my goal of punctuality. After maybe 5 stars (to start with), I get to give myself a bigger reward. I'm gonna have to get the kids to give me ideas for those rewards, too- sad, really, that I can identify so little that might motivate or reward me. I hope that it will become self-rewarding, or habitual soon, but in the meantime, I'm open to suggestions of nice rewards for good behaviour...

Evening Pages

It's hard to write after the kids are in bed, 'cause I'm tired, and all the bright ideas I had earlier in the day have fled. That said, I know I fritter away a lot of time on the computer, and if I could pull together a little more organization and discipline, I could get my chores done, have time for writing and frittering, if I so desire.

I also could just write- although a morning pages idea is not realistic for me, an evening pages might work. I should just pour myself onto several pages, and then start marshalling myself to write properly.

I'm amazed at how many women are out here in blog land writing amazing blogs. Who knew? The internet, originally the domain of men, has spawned an entire generation of strong women writers, who can write from home (or wherever), and publish themselves from home, if they so choose.

Rob suggested this morning, since the house is not selling, and we are going down the drain financially waiting for it to sell, and since we are not enjoying living in two houses and having to cart ourselves home at the end of a pleasant evening, that perhaps, just maybe, we should give his tenant notice and all move into his house, at least for a while. We could continue to fix up his house, and try again in the spring to sell it.

It's a good idea. The mortgage would be manageable. The moving would be easier. The repairs are a known entity. The commuting would be easy. BUT

It's Rob's house. It used to be Rob and Sarah's house. It has been Rob's bachelor house with his 2 boys for the last 4 years. I don't know whether we each have the strength and flexibility to reduce our own need for control, and reorganize the house to become “ours”. Does the benefit of being able to live together outweigh the challenges of setting up a home together in a house which has been Rob's home for 10 years? Maybe. I'll sleep on it and let you know.

"It's a learning experience"

Since being reported to and exonerated by child protection services, I have been plagued with self-doubt, especially about my parenting. Although I have faith that I am basically a good parent and that my kids are doing well, I wonder. Is my attitude of "let them learn" and benign supervision and relaxed risk management putting my kids unnecessarily in danger's path? I don't want to believe that it is. I know that a part of my laissez-faire style comes not just from my temperament but from my historical low self-esteem. I do not want my children to come to harm because I cannot induce myself to enforce a limit with them.

That said, after another questionable experience, another neighbour lovingly shared the words of wisdom forming today's title. Parenting is a learning experience. We haven't done it before. Until we ARE doing it, it's just about impossible to learn HOW to do it. Our kids are going to have varying temperaments, which may be a good or a poor fit for our own. Their interests may diverge wildly from ours, as may their energy levels. Life's circumstances may challenge the resources we have available at the time we are parenting. sometimes we will get it stunningly wrong, in spite of our best intentions, and we may need to draw on reserves of resilience, yet again. Sometimes, we will get it astoundingly right, and we will all flourish as a result. An attitudeof loving acceptance and gentle guidance towards ourselves and others as parents sounds so right to me. I wish I'd thought of it sooner. (Maybe I had, and lost the concept through widow brain...)

So, I'm trying to parent myself, as gently and lovingly and wisely and purposefully as I aspire to parent my children. I'll succeed at this for the most part, "this I know for sure".