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Yesterday was not one of my better days. 

It was 97 hours long.  It was windy.  It was raining.

I spent approximately 1 of those 97 hours getting 4 toddlers ready to play in my backyard, which is on par with getting ready for extended deep sea diving.  Screaming with laughter and the thrill of who was going to get in the Little Tikes ride-in truck first, they hit the patio running.

Six and a half minutes later, they were wet, cold, frustrated and attempting to claw their way through my sliding glass patio door.

At the end of my 10hr workday, I set to making bolognese sauce to top bowtie pasta, a dozen homemade basil/garlic dinner rolls, and peanut butter rice krispie treats smothered in chocolate for dessert.

My dinner was received with as much fanfare as a limp dick on a honeymoon.

Just before 9:30pm, the wind decided to pick up and sweep away the garbage cans from our carport and pull our mailbox off one of it's hinges.  In my rescue attempt, Ravenpaw, our 7 month old not-yet-neutered cat saw his chance and made a break for it, which set our youngest into hysteria.

Silly me for even daring to hope this could finally signal the end of Hell Day.

Resigned to the fact the cat was not coming back til possibly the very next day, I realized it had been a couple days since checking my email, and foolishly thought "WTF...might as well.."

Nothing too interesting in the old inbox.  Then I noticed a (1) in my Junk Mail.

*click*

===============================================
From: xxx @ xxx

Sent: November-16-11 9:28 PM
To: ME

Subject:

Your father died on November 14th. Yikes!

==================================================================

I haven't heard from my family in over 9 years.  The Coles Notes version is I am the white sheep of my family.

I remember when this all blew up 9 years ago, a friend who is more family than my birth family asked me what if my father was dying right at that moment in time, would I have any regrets, was there anything I had left to say…

The answer was no.  I spent all last night and today coming to terms with the fact that the answer seems to still be no.

The really funny cosmic karmaic (yes I know this is not a word) thing?

I cannot fathom holding a grudge against my own flesh and blood children for 9 years, let alone not giving a shit about my grandchildren. It defies logic. It goes against every single thing I believe in about family.

Our daughters were never treated as equals to my neice.  I refuse to stand by and watch our daughters grow up feeling bad about themselves when the problem is not with them, it has always been my parents.

I cannot fathom being on my death bed and just….well….you know.

This is the 3^rd time since January 1992 that I have been estranged from my parents. The last 2 reconciliations I have been subjected to ridicule and told that I was “a brain dead moron”....yet I kept trying to make it work.

That changed 9 years ago when I realized I have my own little family that loves me.  I have so many amazing friends, here in Victoria, in North Vancouver where I met Lawr, in Richmond where I grew up, all over the world now thanks to the poker tables on Crackbook.

When we were putting our Christmas tree up on Sunday, I found a box labelled "xmas decs" on one side, and "albums" on the other.  Inside was a whole bunch of photo albums and pics of me when I was growing up.  I sat with Nic and Zoe and they asked who that was and who's that – and it hit me they had no idea the people in the pictures were my mother and father.

That is sad on too many levels.

That same night (Sunday) I had a dream that my mother just showed up at our door asking if she could move in.  My alarm clock went off before I got to the part in the dream telling WHY she was at our door.

Then I got that email last night telling me my father had died the day after the albums and my dream.

Wanna know the really really REALLY funny cosmic karmaic thing?  I NEVER open anything in my junk mail folder, because it’s usually Viagra ads or viruses.

But something made me click it and at first I didn’t even recognize the email address.  It wasn’t til I actually read the email that I made the connection.

So.  Very.  Surreal.

Lawr helped me with my daycare today.  I am closing tomorrow for a personal day.

I know the right thing to do FOR ME is to just say my goodbye in my own way.  I’ve been right here for 9 years, and there’s been no contact.

I am not interested in trying to build a relationship where one has never been able to exist.  I don’t want to go back to feeling like there’s something wrong with me, that I’m worthless.

I love where I am in my life.  I have an amazing family.  An incredible extended family and so many friends that love me for who I am.  That’s what my life is about.

*delete*

An Apology To Our Soldiers And Veterans

This morning I attended my grade 5 daughters' school's Remembrance Day assembly.  With three - count em THREE toddlers in tow.  I let all my daycare parents know earlier in the week about our upcoming fieldtrip and how important it was for me to be there as a parent.  Zoe's in her school choir this year.  Her final year of elementary school.  It's been a long, long, looooong battle to get where we are today, and to see her excelling and positively loving school.

I talked with my toddlers about how important our fieldtrip was to Zoe and me, and explained we'd be listening to other children sing songs about peace and about being grateful for all our soldiers. 

I packed a dozen little teeny tiny books that I bought specially for fieldtrips.  I packed each toddler their own special snack - cheerios, raisins, and Froot Loops and Alpha-bits - the latter being perfect for teaching colours and letters ;P

I made sure to bring a big comfy quilt for us to sit on instead of having to sit on a cold, hard gym floor. 

We all watched...QUIETLY...as Zoe and the rest of the school filtered into the gym.

We stood...QUIETLY...and listened to Oh Canada!  We knew that after such an important song, we don't applaud. 

We sat down...QUIETLY...and resumed our book reading and started on our snack packs.

We watched and listened intently as Zoe and the rest of the choir took their places in the stands and sang "Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream".  When my toddlers saw me dabbing at my tears of pride with kleenex, they all held out their hands and asked "please"...so they could copy me and dab too!

So what is the point of my ramble?

This morning was one of those picture-perfect mornings where I am reminded how much I love doing daycare, how much I love my little group, and how thankful I am to live in the time and place that I do.

So what is the point of my ramble......

While the entire audience of moms, dads, aunts, uncles, grammas, grampas, and other children and toddlers were respectfully listening and enjoying today's assembly, some parent felt it was ok to just let THEIR toddler run rampant through the audience chairs, through the students sitting respectfully on the floor, and even up and down and through the choir stands!

The most disgusting, disheartening and downright disrespectful part was when this toddler was permitted to behave this way while a veteran was giving a heartfelt speech on what Remembrance Day is all about...about how it is hard to put on his uniform without remembering all his fallen comrades...about all the sacrifices made by the brave few for the many.

At the end of the ceremonies, I was shocked at how many parents, teachers - even Zoe's principal - came over to personally thank my three toddlers for being so respectful, and such pleasant visitors. 

I wasn't shocked that I was able to "pull this off".

I was shocked at how pretty much complete strangers felt comfortable enough to tell me and my children how much they appreciated our manners at such an important assembly.

I was shocked that NOT ONE parent or teacher approached the parent of the obnoxious toddler to tell them how inappropriate, rude and downright disrespectful it was to allow their child to run rampant....even though it was on the faces of everyone there while it was happening.

But I think what bothers me the most is the fact that *I* sat there and did nothing.

I am truly sorry that I did not speak up.