Saturday, June 24, 2006

Eulogy for a Good Cake, a Kind Cake

Today is our 6th wedding anniversary, and it wasn't your typical anniversary. There was no fine dinner, no jewelry or expensive gifts, no long-stemmed roses. Since no one was able to babysit for us, we did yardwork all day and then ordered in pizza. Just when I thought the day was a bit of a loss, my husband surprises me with a replica of the top of our wedding cake - same flavour, icing, decorations, baker, etc. (collective *awwws*) Then, after the kids went to bed, we had our cake and wine in the backyard under the stars/streetlights. There were even fireflies!

Anyhow, back to the cake, it was very difficult for us to cut because it was just so pretty! We kept hesitating with the knife...someone worked so hard on this...wow, its so nice...why are we doing this again? It was the same on our actual wedding day, but at that time we had the photographer impatiently tapping her foot and the peer pressure from all the people standing around us, so we got it done. This time, it was just us. We stared at that cake for 5-6 mins before we ventured a cut. Oh, and it tasted the same too!

In fact, you know how you're supposed to keep some cake for your 1-yr anniversary? Well, we still have ours...the original top of the cake. Yes, its been in our freezer, taking up a lot of space, for 6 years. You see, on our 1-yr anniversary, I was pregnant and throwing up all the time -- you can see how 1-yr old cake did not appeal, no matter how "sentimental". At two years, we wanted to eat it even less. Three years, four, etc...it just ain't getting any better. But again, we can't bring ourselves to throw it out. You see, its no longer just a cake.

Now it's a LEGACY.

To throw it out would be to say that it has no value, that its worthless. So Cat & I were talking about this dilemma while enjoying the new, replica cake, and we came up with a solution.

We are going to bury the cake.

And we are gonna plant 3 little trees on top of it, one for each of the kids.

I am not sure if 6-year old frozen chocolate-amaretto cake with rolled almond fondant icing will make good fertilizer, but we are gonna find out. If the trees thrive, they can carry on the legacy. If not, well, we'll just be glad we didn't eat the darn 6-yr old cake.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Lucky Sevens

7 things to do before I die:
1) See France
2) Look up my grade school nemesis and say things to him that will make him need counselling for the rest of his life*
3) Get/give my husband a cushy job in town
4) Realize I have learned everything and stop taking classes
5) LAUGH when my kids ask me to babysit
6) Tell someone who is wearing too much perfume that they stink
7) Sleep in a castle


7 things I cannot do:

1) Clean under the fridge (winks at Jellyhead!)
2) Remember names
3) Let the little guy take a hit
4) Not comfort a crying person
5) Not become enraged when someone hurts my friends
6) Stop loving my children
7) Stop believing in karma

7 things that attract me to my husband:
1) his kindness
2) his wierd sense of humour
3) his loyalty
4) his patience
5) his overflowing love for the kids
6) his overflowing love for me
7) his unique intelligence

7 books I love:
1-6) The Harry Potter books!!!!! (#7 is on the way!)
7) The Future Publication(s) by Kimberly Rose Anne Foottit

7 movies I'd watch over & over again:
1-4) All 4 Harry Potter Movies
5) The Shawshank Redemption
6) Star Trek: First Contact
7) Star Wars

7 people to tag for this meme:
1) umm, do i know 7 ppl?
2) if you haven't already done it, then go for it!

(*ooh, there will SO be a blog about this!)

Monday, June 19, 2006

Open Road

You know how on Friday I did that post (see below) that made a lot of ppl think I was suicidal? Well just want ya'll to know that today I wrote my last two exams, and I mailed off the last business proposal. And after the dozen or so projects/assignments/deadlines crashed upon me over the last two months,

I AM DONE!



No, wait for it...

I AM FREAKIN DONE!



I have NOTHING to do for the rest of the summer. I did it all! There's an open road ahead of me after months of work and anxiety and work and deadlines etc. I have had my face so close to the grindstone that I couldn't breathe and now...

DONE DONE DONE!



And I am so happy I could burst!

And I am gonna get me some!

And my roses are in bloom!


And the kids are a pain in the ass, but I'm okay with that!

And my road is open!

And tomorrow (June 20th) is my 31st birthday! I'm a Gemini, and I agree with a lot of what they say about the Gemini Female. Check it out!

Oh yeah, and cake all around! A piece for you, and two for me...

Friday, June 16, 2006

Collide

I am so tired. So very, very tired. I am listening to Howie Day's "Collide" right now and wow, it makes me think I really need a rescue about now:

"Even the best fall down sometimes
Even the wrong words seems to rhyme
Out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find
You and I collide"

I think I miss my hubby. Come home soon sweetie.

What is it about music that makes me cry? Even if I've heard it a million times before, I hear something different each time:

"I find I'm scared to know I'm always on your mind"

On and on it goes. What a beautiful song. Click Play (2x?) to hear/see the video:

Just noticed that you can see the CN Tower in the background in the opening sequence. Funny, my hubby works "under" that, and its an hour away from here. Howie Day must be on Via Rail Executive class - you can tell by the leather seats.

"Even the best fall down sometimes"

Anyhow, if you already know the song, then maybe you know what I am trying to say. I really want to pick it out on the guitar right now as a little creative therapy, but my son broke my 6th string (caught him playing with the keys).

Just tired. Too many self-imposed deadlines. Too much 'trying'. Can't say I don't try. I try too much. Should stop trying, at least for a little bit. What do you say honey?

"Don't stop here
I've lost my place
I'm close behind"

So what song makes you cry?

Monday, June 12, 2006

99% Angel

Today's offering is tales from Franny's youth, featuring how and when I learned the Value of...

...Justice
When I was about 8, I was a straight "A" student, and my 'D-student' cousin coerced me into doing his homework for him, promising that we could play Parker Bros. Game of Life when it was done. So I did his homework, and he promptly laughed at me and went outside to play with other friends. The next day as he was about to hand in his perfect homework, he discovered that some vengeful person had scribbled out all the answers.

...'Relative Truth'
When I was about 10, and my brother did a dangerous BMX-style stunt jump over a construction hill - I was the "GO" signal girl. He wiped out and destroyed his new bike and was bleeding everywhere. We concocted this tear-soaked victim-impact story of an accidental wipeout with the school building worthy of an Academy Award...

...Short-Shorts
When I was about 16 and we told my parents that me & 3 friends were borrowing the K-Car to spend the day at the local pool, and instead we drove to the Toronto Zoo which was about 90 mins away via major highways and on the other side of the 'Big City'. Had a great day, until the car wouldn't start to go home. Then these 2 macho teenage guys saw us with the hood up and TOOK APART the car to try to help and they got the car to start just as the towtruck showed up.

...Hail Marys
When I was about 18 (think strict parents!!) my new boyfriend and I lied to my parents about where we were going...we actually crossed the border into Buffalo, NY to do some discount shopping. While we were at the mall, it began to blizzard, and we raced home through accidents and whiteout conditions and radio reports that they were closing the highways and the BORDER CROSSINGS over the Niagara River due to dangerous weather conditions. We were the LAST CAR to make it though before they closed the gates over the bridge.

...Disconnecting the Phone
There was the time my boyfriend's mother caught us. It looked particularly bad because I was on my lunch break from Catholic high-school and my kilt was on the other side of the room when she walked in. She was screaming and smashing things and threatening to call my mother. (Guess she got over it because she is now my mother-in-law.)

So, who else has been bad?

Friday, June 09, 2006

What Sticks Out

This week I stuck my neck out, twice.
>>I got my head got chopped off, twice.

This week I stopped taking the abuse and the putdowns.
>>Now my abuser is trying harder.

This week I was laughed at.
>>I vowed to prove myself.

This week I held the hand of someone who was crying and desperately afraid.
>>I think it helped.

This week I was overwhelmed.
>>I worked harder.

This week I saw people from my childhood that I never wanted to see again.
>>My husband stood by me.

This week I identified the toxic pattern.
>>Now, I can avoid it.

This week I ate too much cheesecake.
>>A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

This week I was angry and afraid.
>>Then I was reminded that I had good friends.

This week I saw my son sing.
>>I cried.

That was my week.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Don't Buy This Book (Don't Take it Out of the Library Either or Risk Lifelong Nightmares)

They say that no press is bad press, and that in criticizing her I might be giving her the controversy and the publicity she wants. But I decided I'll take that chance. I suppose if I can convince one person who trusts me enough to take my word for it and not give this person a dime, then it's worth it.

I had heard of this woman, seen her occasionally, but paid no attention to her because I figured she was a nut. But this morning, I was changing diapers, out of reach of the remote control and was literally trapped into hearing this woman talk on TV. My head is still reeling from the mind pollution and filth and doubletalk coming from her mouth.

I am so ashamed to be the same gender as her. But then again, if it sells books and makes $$, how can it be bad? I am talking, of course, about Anne Coulter.

Sure, you can love God, love George W. and hate democrats all you want, that is your right. But human decency is crossed when you say that you have never seen anyone "enjoy the death of a spouse as much as the 911 widows do" that they shouldn't complain about the government because they "made millions off the deaths of their family members" and that all the democrats have on their side are people like Cindy Shehan whose family has dropped dead in the war and they are 'milking' it.

It gets better.

How about the only thing Democrats celebrate is dead babies from abortions? Or that if you're not a Republican, you're anti-God? That the war in Iraq IS the war on terror and the RIGHT choice and if you question it you should shut up and get the hell out of America?

Oh yes, I kid you not, but that seems to be her style - human decency, tolerance and class won't make you rich. In fact, she had a little bit o' religious zealot, shoot the dissenters attitude going on...kinda like the regimes around the world she says should be toppled one by one. It boggles the mind really. Sorry American buddies, so glad I am Canadian on this one!

Anyhow, to save you from looking it up and putting hits on Amazon or Google for this filth, the book is called "Godless: The Church of Liberalism". Hmm....interesting title...sounds like the real God is gonna be pretty mad someday that she has forsaken her neighbor for the Holy Dollar. A cool, compassionless demeanor. No shame at brandishing the shock sword to maim but sell books. A total absence of love and brotherhood and self-sacrifice.

Okay, and while we're bible slinging (she started it!): I may be able to speak the languages of human beings and even of angels, but if I have no love, my speech is no more than a noisy gong or a clanging bell..

Also, I came across some scathing stuff about our 'classy dame' here. Don't know what is true, but reading it was good emotional revenge for the vile 4 minutes she put me through this morning.

And hey, God Bless you America. I know many of you still believe in Liberty, Fraternity and Equality - not just words, but a belief system that is the foundation of democracy.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Protection

Dear Regional Protection Services Company,

Please accept this letter as an addendum to forms 8a & 9c that I will be submitting shortly. I would like to apply for a Personal Bodyguard under section 14 of the Charitable Cases Act, Inevitable Endangerment Clause 801e. I believe that without assistance from your organization, I am likely to soon be bumped off by my children, or I will be seriously maimed or need lifelong institutionalization. In order to speed up the application process, I will explain in this letter the evidence that supports my claim.

On the morning of June 3rd, 2006, my husband was at work. I was in the bathroom, completing some necessary business, while my children, aged 2 (twins) were pounding on the door to receive admittance to said bathroom. My son, age 4, yelled at them from the other room to "leave mommy alone while she's on the can" and then proceeded to saunter over and push them out of the way so that HE could demand that I let HIM in. There was much cajoling and whining and banging and knob twisting when I politely told him to go back to the living room and watch the end of Dora (a TV show for young children) so that I could finish my business.

He walked away, leaving the twins to continue pulling on the door until there was a BANG. Suddenly it was silent. I hastily leapt to my feet and ran to see what had happened, and when I grabbed the door knob, it came off in my hand. Turns out, the other end with the "stick part" attached to it had fallen to the floor in the hallway (the bang sound).

Trapped in the bathroom, I called for my 4-yr-old to come to assist. Surely he would be coordinated enough to put the knob back through the hole. His reply?

"Wait mommy, Dora's not over!"

As luck would have it, this was a can't miss DORA SPECIAL. The twins were now on the other side of the door, giggling and obviously playing with my door knob, so I tried to explain to them what to do. They did not understand, and this was about when the fight broke out, both of them wanting possession of the knob. Suddenly, there was shoving and screaming and "THAT'S MINE!" and "NOOOOO!" and then running feet. When the 4-yr-old finally made it over to the bathroom and I told him what needed to be done, he said.

"Ok. I see the hole. But what doorknob?"

Seems that my daughter had won the war for the knob, and had torn off to find a place to hide it from her twin brother. After a futile search for something long and skinny to put through the hole, I told my 4-yr old to pull his brother away from the door so that I could put some weight on it and force it open. This was when my 2-yr-old son threw himself at the foot of the door, shreiking because his mommy STILL wouldn't let him visit her in the bathroom. My elder son couldn't move his dead, angry, sobbing, uncooperative weight.

So, I told my elder son to go find that &%$#*@ doorknob.

He went to do my bidding, and soon I heard screaming, more running & a violent interrogation going on in the other room. By now I had a hernia and a pain in my skull that I am certain was some sort of stress-induced aneurysm. I tried to encourage my crying 2-yr-old to go get a toy, something, anything, to get him away from the door so I could force it open. No luck.

The fight in the living room was rising to a crescendo at this point, so I sat down on the bathroom floor, put one hand under the door to "hold" it while I began to force it open with my foot. My 2-yr-old saw my fingers under the door and started to laugh and play with my fingers. Luckily, the mass of fighting children came down the hall and my youngest son jumped into it, thinking it was "fun", and they all continued down to the nursery. That was my chance to give the door the kick I had been meaning to and I did it. The door flew open and I took off after the kids, broke up the fight, assuaged the offended parties, and noticed that my daughter had a huge bulbous door-knob shaped item in her pants.

I sat the struggling child down and excavated until I found the desired item when suddenly she broke free and sprang up and smashed me in the cheekbone, full force, with her head. I fell to the ground. I saw stars. It felt like I had been punched by Bruce Lee. I think my tooth is loose.

I believe my bodyguard will arrive by Monday. Otherwise, expect my displeasure.

Best Regards,

Franny

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Courage

Things are black and white to children. It simplifies their universe. There is good and there is bad.

In my youth, I used to think that most people could fit into either the "Strong" category or the "Weak" category. The Strong would survive, and to continue to make it in the world, the Weak would have to learn to be Strong or drown in the torrents of pain and manipulation. With Strong came the toughness, the lack of empathy, the "me for myself" mentality. With Weak came the tears, the malaise, the taken advantage of.

But is it possible that there is a third category...one that a lot of the people I know and love fit into. One that I fit into too?

The Weak But Brave.

I guess today I feel a little tired of being called "Strong", as if it is something I was born with, like nice coloured eyes, or having long legs. If I had a dime for every time I've heard "oh, but you've always been the strong one" I would be a rich, rich woman. What if I am not STRONG, but Strength for me is a choice, every day? What if I am scared, worried, overwhelmed and intimidated like everyone else, but go on and go on because I know there has to be a better way? What if I am discouraged and uncertain too, but upon seeing what is right (though it be scary and hard), I do it anyways?

Not because I am strong, but because I am brave?

I want to tell those people who call me "strong" as if it is an insult, that bravery is a badge that you earn, by making the right choices, by using your mind in cooperation with your heart, by learning and by teaching and by listening. I am not just "STRONG". I was not born with it. I have learned to be strong by being brave, no matter how much my tummy flutters and my head aches and my heart skips a beat and I want to cry. I care deeply. Too deeply. That makes me brave. Others depend on me. That too makes me brave. I have become what I am through the fire and through countless mistakes and though struggles to preserve my own dignity.

Lastly, I have stopped buying the whole excuse that one is weak and thats just how they are and why they make the same mistakes over and over again. Weakness is not by birth either. So long as you breathe, you have choices. Bad things just don't happen to you because you are weak, but because you are too much of a coward or too lazy to fight for what is right or to stick up for yourself. Stop lying to yourself that there's nothing you can do, because I can no longer help you if you believe you are, and will always be, weak.

Now that's black and white.