Putting Grandma's New Year's Superstition to the Test

My maternal Grandmother was a superstitious, sometimes mean, sometimes sweet, controlling, manipulative hypochondriac, so a bit of a whack-job.  I do non envy my Mother and Aunt's childhood.  Grandma had a lot of superstitions, and a lot of them were pretty common; 'don't open an umbrella inside', 'don't walk under a ladder', 'a black cat crossing in front of you is bad luck', etc.  I don't think that all of them were common, she believed dreams came true, she believed in omens, she thought it was bad luck to put shoes on a table. Even knowing that Grandma was a bit of a nut case, and growing up believing in science and evidence, I still have found myself following her superstitions.

There are a lot of different superstitions and rituals surrounding the New Year.  One of my favourites is one that a friend grew up with, at mid-night she would open the front door to let the New Year in and open the back door to let the Old Year out.  Grandma's belief was that anything left undone as of New Year would stay undone for the year.

For many year's of my life I have tried to get everything done for New Year's; clean the home, do all the laundry, mending, cleaning out closets, repairs, etc.  This year that did not happen.  I was home with both the boys for the week prior to New Year's.  BBJ2 was sick which meant a baby stuck to me and a 3 year old running wild.  The weather was yucky, rainy, snowy, windy, and cold so we didn't venture out much.  The boys did not want to sleep by themselves, especially BBJ2 who went 4 days straight only sleeping if he was attached to me.

I have decided to look at the lack of getting stuff done as an experiment instead of a failure.  I'm going to see if the superstition comes true or not.  Here are the things that I would have wanted done prior to mid-night New Year's:
- take down & put away the Christmas tree and decorations
- clean the apartment, including washing the floors
- paint the boys' bedroom
- clean out the storage locker - specifically rearrange so that the sleds are in easy reach
- fix the toy problem (there are more toys than fit on the toy shelves and they are taking over)
- put up new pictures of us and our loved ones (very quickly after the boys' father left I took down all the pictures with him in them, but there are holes in the picture wall that have not been filled, plus there isn't one picture of BBJ2 hanging up)
- mending and altering of clothes
- find the missing pillow case that matches my duvet cover
- print pictures of the boys and put together a photo album for them
- get my hair cut & a pedicure

That is it, I think, probably should be a longer list, but that seems like enough.  Next New Year's I plan on checking back to this list to see if the superstition holds true or not.

An Old Year

When people have a bad year they often say something like "good riddance" at New Year's.  I had a really bad year, but I wouldn't wish away the year if I could.  (I would wish away some of what happened this past year, but that is a different story.) Yes, bad things happened, but amazing things happened too.

I became a single mom, against my will, against everything I wanted for me and for my boys.  It totally sucked and there were many many times I didn't think I could do it.  I also became a good single mom, it took some work, it took a crap-load of energy and it took a lot of intelligence and insight.  I'm not where I want to be yet, but my boys are pretty happy, they are healthy, they are intelligent, and they are loved.  I had to change things about myself to do it, I had to accept help, I had to be more selfless, and I had to be more selfish.

The boys did some amazing things this year and I got to see all of it.  BBJ2 took his first steps, learned to walk, learned to climb, said his first word, has hundreds of words and many phrases now, and he said "I love you mommy".  BBJ1 is toilet trained (mostly), and taught himself to pee standing up.  It hasn't been an easy year for the boys, mostly for BBJ1.  He had a really hard time when Daddy moved out, but he seemed to be adjusting, he had a hard time when Daddy visits became erratic, and even harder when Daddy visits stopped, but he seems to be adjusting again.  We (BBJ1 and I, with a lot of advice from my Therapist) have been working on dealing with his anger and temper and it does seem to be helping, tantrums and violence are much less frequent than before.  Overall though he is an amazing little guy, sweet and loving, intelligent, sensitive, creative and imaginative, and most of the time happy (and he has the most beautiful skin ever - I am so envious).   BBJ2 has gone from being a baby to a little person with his own personality and quirks.  He went from a quiet little guy to a chatterbox and recently developed the need to shriek NO at me numerous times a day, but he also says "Hi Mom" to me about 20 times a day and each time it is so sweet.  One of the coolest things is that they went from being my 2 sons, to being brothers, they fight, they are possessive, they are sweet, and they care about each other.

It was a hard year, I spent the first half of the year home alone with the boys and the second half of the year back at work trying to balance everything.  I became totally broke trying to cover rent, daycare, bills, food, and diapers by myself.  I have managed to get myself to a place where I am ok but still broke.  The only people I was able to buy Christmas presents for were the boys, and it was one gift from me, one gift from Santa, and their stockings and that was all.  An amazing thing happened though, people helped, a lot of the help came from my father, but there were lots of other people who don't have much to give, but gave me a little something.  A couple of family members are paying me back money I lent them years ago and never expected to see again.  My step-mom sent diapers when my Dad came to visit.  My brothers helped with some heavy lifting, van providing, and moving of furniture.  My girlfriends gave me some cash. A couple of the women I work with gave me Christmas presents, for me, which is not the norm at my office.  I have often given/lent people money in the past when I had it to give and had always 'written it off', I thought of it as a gift not a loan.  Well, those 'gifts' have been paid back, not always by the person who I gifted, but it came back when I needed it the most.  I'm now living on a pretty tight budget that doesn't leave room for an emergency or anything fun, and it is not easy for me, but it will get better and I don't think that I will ever hit a time when the cable, internet, cell phone, and home phone all get cut off in the same week again.

Going back to work was both tough and a really good thing.  Work gave me a place to use my mind, and a place to be away from memories, and a place to be a social grown-up.  Work also gave me back travel.  I love to travel but haven't for the last bunch of years.  This year I've been to England 3 times, Montreal, the Northeast US, and to Paris.  It was really tough doing the travel, for both me and the boys. They were not o.k. with mom going away, and I don't blame them.  I felt guilty, guilty for leaving them knowing that they were not o.k. with it, I felt guilty for having my mom take care of them (she isn't a spring-chicken), I felt guilty for wanting to be away.  But it has been o.k.  The boys seem to be better with my last trip.  My mom is totally good for continuing to do this, she enjoys the time with the boys, who are better behaved, better eaters, and better sleepers for Grandma than they are for mom.  My trips have been up and down, but the last one was to Paris and I had an amazing time, it was exhausting, long meetings (including conference calls with people in N.A. after the day had finished over there), but I was in Paris, had great food, great wine, and some nice company.

I think though, that the most important thing that happened this past year, is that I remembered that I am valuable, that I am worth a lot.  I had lost sight of that, partly the marriage and partly the children, but the break-up really squashed my sense of worth.  It took a long time to really remember and see how great I am.  I'm not perfect, I have many flaws, but at the same time I have many positive attributes.  People would tell me these things and many of them I could agree with intellectually but not emotionally.  There are so many people in my life who love me and think that I am pretty great, and now I agree with them.

So, a very tough year, but a year filled with amazing stuff and good learnings.  I hope that the next year brings more good than bad.  I hope that when the bad happens I am able to remember what I learned this year.  I am strong and I am a mother, I will survive because I have to, I have two very precious little guys who need me.  But, I won't just survive,  because I choose to live my life my way.  I won't wallow in my pain and chalk it up to fate or punishment, pain is a lesson (so far honestly I haven't figured out my lesson) and without it, joy wouldn't be so joyful.  I choose to be me and I choose to see the goodness in the world, I choose to see the unbelievable beauty we are surrounded with, I choose to try to be a good person, a good sister, a good daughter, and a good mother, I choose to smile, I choose to laugh, I choose to breath, I choose to melt when I have a boy sitting on each side of me and they both lean into me, and I choose to be happy.

As an addendum, my year by the numbers:
0 - # of times I won the lottery
1 - # of nights that I had more than 8 hours straight sleep (on business trip)
1 - # of my duvets I had to throw out due to disgusting illness of my children
2 - # of chest x-rays BBJ2 had
2 - # of hair-cuts BBJ1 and I have had
4 - # of litres of milk the boys go through in a week-end
5 - # of times I had to clean out the fridge because BBJ2 got in there and spilt stuff
6 - # of nights that I had 7-8 hours of straight sleep (on business trip)
9 - # of times I had to have blood tests
13 - # of times I swept the floor yesterday
14 - # of times BBJ2 has vomited on me
47 - # of times we have watched "Land of the Lost" (BBJ2 is obsessed with "Dr. Rick Marshall" -  I must say that Will Ferrell's comic genius means that even after 40 viewings, I still laugh at the scene where he douses himself with and drinks dinosaur urine)
63 - # of times I have cleaned pee off of the floor (an approximation)
85 - # of times BBJ2 got excited by Christmas lights (this is an approximation, actual number may be a bit lower)
210 - # of loads of laundry (# accurate to 91%)
758 - # of times I have audibly sighed
897 - # of km I put on the stroller (this is an approximation, actual # probably higher)

Dad + Help = pissed off me

Today my father offered (or insisted I'm not sure) me some monetary assistance and the whole thing just pissed me off, trying to work through why.

Right now, I'm really tight for money.  I have June's rent in the bank, but that is it.  BBJ2's daycare is payed until the end of May, BBJ1's is not paid and I need to put a deposit & his first week down a week tomorrow.  There should be some money coming in, but I can't count on anything until the 15th of June.

This morning I was chatting with my step-mom and we were talking about the toughness of being alone without having geographically close support for helping with day-care drop-off/pick-up or when one of the boys are sick, etc.  I mentioned that I was probably going to try to find someone in the building who could do mornings with the boys.  My idea is that when I leave in the morning, I could drop them off (or the care-giver could come here), and the care-giver would give them breakfast, get them dressed and take them to day-care.  When I was talking about it I said that I was going to wait until I was back at work and had a couple of pay-checks in.

I Miss My Grandma

I have been thinking about my PGrandma (paternal grandmother) a lot lately, and wishing that I could talk to her.  She died when I was in 2nd grade (I think), so I didn't really get to know her.  I know that I loved her and she loved me.  Her death was the first time I questioned God.  I was angry that she was gone, and who else was there to blame?

She was a great grandma, she taught my brother and I to play softball, she let us make tents out of her old Hudson Bay blankets (Dad wasn't allowed to play with them when he was a boy), she hugged us, she gave me tea in proper china teacups and she tried to teach me manners and etiquette.

Regret Can Be A Good Thing

"No Regrets"  How many times have you heard this?  I have heard it a lot lately and it bugs me.  I don't think that you should spend your life dwelling in your regrets.  I do think that regret (and remorse, and guilt) have a purpose and that if you try to just go on with your life, ignoring the purpose of the feeling then you will spend your life mired in the muck.

The feeling of regret has purpose, to act as a warning "don't repeat your mistakes", and to make amends for your mistake.  Often making amends will help alleviate the bad feeling of regret.  There is a wide range of things that we humans are capable of achieving and there is a wide range of harm that we humans are capable of perpetrating.  The regret should relate to the action that was done, there should be no blanket statement that there are no regrets (unless you live in some magical world where you can wave your fairy wand and change/fix everything).  Would you tell a murderer that they should not feel regret?  I doubt it.  Would you tell someone who dropped out of college that they should not feel regret?  Probably.

I don't think that everything in your life that doesn't turn out perfect, should be regretted.  I have had some really terrible hair-cuts, I didn't dwell in regret, I just figured out how to deal with them - hats, head-bands, gel, etc.

I regret being bitchy and mean when I was in high school.  I don't carry it around like a ball and chain, I can't undo what was done.  I did recognize how I behaved, I learned that it was a reaction to my own pain, and I stopped being that way and hurting people.

I regret not standing up for myself in my marriage.  There were times that I tried, but I gave up, and things got worse.  I don't believe that the outcome would have necessarily been any different, but I do believe that I would feel better about myself.  I have been standing up for myself a lot more lately and calling mean/bad behavior when it occurs.  I believe that in my next relationship I will be stronger and that may not work for the man, but since I am the only me I have, I need to take care of me.

This is my best example of regret being a good thing.  My Dad is an alcoholic and he was drunk for my childhood and my teen years.  He loved me, and I saw him on a regular basis, this did not make him a good dad.  He caused a lot of pain for a lot of people, people that he loved and who loved him back.  The realization of the pain he caused - the regret - is part of what helped him become sober and emotionally healthy.  He no longer causes pain, in fact he now has a career helping addicted youths in the criminal system.  He is a loving and supportive father, husband, and friend.  Of course he wasn't able to undo the past, he wasn't able to give me or my brother the childhood that we wanted, but he has made amends, and now we have real relationships.  That is what regret is for, it is about taking your mistakes and learning from them and using them for good.

I am suspicious of people who think that they can go through life and not have any regrets. It is possible that someone could live their entire life and never hurt another person and therefore not have a need to regret their actions, but I have never met someone who was so perfect.  I know that I am not that perfect, I have done things that I have regretted and I have tried to learn, apologize and make amends where I could.  I guess life would be easier if you didn't regret anything that you did, but it would also be a lot more selfish.

My First Divorce - I was 7

There are so many things that happen to us, so many people who touch us, and so many things we choose to do/feel/think that make us who we are.  Many of these things are small things,  having a mom who gives you lots of hugs and reads to you every night, having a brother who calls you thunder thighs, or having nice friendly neighbors.  Some are really big things that have a huge impact on you, this is the first big thing that happened to me, that shaped a lot of how I think and feel.

My first divorce happened when I was about 7.   Being young, I had no clue about relationships and how they work.  My parents didn't fight - there was one loud argument shortly before the split - but that is it.  My Dad wasn't around a lot, he worked long hours, traveled on business, and partied (I didn't know that at the time).  My mom was a stay-at-home mom so she was there all the time.  I don't remember much at all about the break-up.  I have one memory of me running through the house crying.  I remembered the running & crying, my Dad filled in for me that it occurred when my mom and dad explained to my brother and I that they were splitting up.

My whole life changed, not just the moment but the rest of my life changed.

The immediate impact was that Dad was gone, and Mom, Brother & I moved.  My best friend was my next door neighbor, and while we were still going to the same school, it was different.  My mom's parents became even less visible after the break-up - they did not approve of divorce.  My dad's mother was just as visible but pretty much only with my mother (she disapproved strongly and blamed it on her son).  I had two homes (sort of).  I had to split all holidays between two parents.

Shortly after my parents split up, my father moved in with another woman, who I suspect (but have no evidence for) he was seeing before the break.  So I had a step-mother and she wasn't fun.  We got to do lots of fun stuff with Dad, DisneyWorld, a trip across the country, we went to nice restaurants and shows, but we also were driven around by a drunk driver, exposed to lots of very loud yelling matches, and saw things thrown at people in anger.  We were emotionally manipulated and there was anger directed at us by our step-mother.  They broke up about 15 years later, shortly after that my father stopped drinking, met a lovely woman who is now my step-mother and they are great.

My mother raised us in a village of her friends, we often were at fun activities with her friends and their children.  My mom's life was not easy.  She went back to work after a decade of being at home.  She tried to give us all the stuff we wanted and tried to compete with what my dad was able to do with us, but she ended up having to declare bankruptcy and we had to move to a cheap apartment building.  The change in neighborhood and school was like landing on the moon.  I had to toughen up and get street-smart really quickly.

I always knew stuff about my parents and their divorce that any expert today says a child should never know.  I used to carry my Dad's support cheques home from visits.  I knew that the support wasn't enough.  I heard bad stuff spoken about both of my parents, not really bad stuff, but not nice.

I was torn apart.  I loved both of my parents and wanted to be with both of them.  The two houses had different rules and different atmospheres so I was constantly adjusting to what were supposed to be my homes.  I didn't always want to go to my Dad's, I liked mom's and my friends were there, but I had no choice.  Sometimes I wanted to be at Dad's, cooler toys, and even though my Dad was a drunk I loved him.

My parent's divorce changed me from being a care-free little girl into a cautious, scared too grown-up little girl.  My parent's divorce and the scars it gave me is why I chose not to settle for the wrong Mr. Right.  Why I chose to wait to get married until I found the one person I knew I could love and trust my whole life.

What Happened to My Dog?

So for the one or two people out there who don't personally know me and read my blog, you may have noticed that when I was on mat leave with BBJ1 there was a dog in the mix, and since I have been writing again, the dog is absent.  Here is the story of Dog.

When exHusband and I were almost living together we discussed that we both wanted a dog, I hadn't had a dog in years and exHusband had recently lost his dog.   One day we were out shopping and stopped in the pet store, they had beagle puppies (exHusband had always wanted a beagle).  The puppies were cute, I asked to hold one, he licked my nose, and that was that.  Dog came home with us.

He was so cute, I don't think that there has ever been a cuter dog.  He was really sweet.  We loved him.

We tried to train him, but we failed.  We never got him house-trained.  It was terrible.  We tried crate training but too late and not consistently enough.  I tried a bunch of The Dog Whisperer's stuff and it helped a bit but it was hard.  He was a barker, not the when left alone he barks the whole time barker, but the excited barker and the if anyone is in the hallway or stairwell barker.  He had tons of energy and wanted to play all the time.  He jumped up on people.  He was a garbage hound, he would eat anything he could get, he ate the most beautiful chicken sandwich that exHusband had made for himself, right off the table.  He ate chicken bones and broken light bulbs, which resulted in vet visits and disgusting messes.  We loved him.

BBJ1 came along and we were really nervous about the dog.  He was very energetic, he was a jumper and didn't seem to have any control over himself when he was excited.  When we brought BBJ1 home from the hospital, it was amazing, he was a totally different dog.  He was very protective over the baby, on day 1, he actually barked at exHusband the first time he held the baby, in front of Dog.  He was calmer and just all around better.  We loved him.

As BBJ1 became older and more mobile, there was a bit more of his old behavior coming through.  I was pretty frustrated with him.  Having your baby crawl into a puddle of dog urine is not good.  BBJ1 was not a great sleeper and the dog would always start whining or barking just when I got him down, waking him up.  It was also a big pain having to take him out with the baby in the winter, and the timing of needed walks often coincided with BBJ1 sleeping.  We loved him.

I went back to work and while the behavior didn't change it wasn't as noticeable  of a problem.  We were all out all day, so it was just evenings and week-ends that we were all together.  And there was an awesome benefit of having a garbage hound when you have a baby then toddler eating, I didn't need to sweep up all of the dropped/spilled/thrown food because the Dog would get it.  We loved him.

Then BBJ2 came home.  When that happened, BBJ1 and I were at home full-time.  Things were not good.  Once again Dog became very protective over the baby against everyone else.  BBJ1 was not good with Dog, he chased the dog, grabbed the dog's tail, hit the dog, tried to ride the dog, etc.  Dog reacted badly to BBJ1.  He didn't hurt him but he was growling at him, and did snap at him.  We were done.

My mother took him to try and find a home (a childless home) for him.  She wasn't successful and Dog was being aggressive with her dog, so he went to the humane society.  I wrote a very honest letter about him, about how sweet and loving he is, how he needs lots of attention and exercise and that he should not be around young children.  He was adopted.

For a very long time (before the aggression to BBJ1) I felt like I failed with Dog.  I really felt that if I could have been more consistent and sterner and and and, that he would have been a better dog.  I don't feel that anymore, I think that he was a great dog, but not for our family.  We still miss him, and still love him.

Profile Pic - the Week-end Brother & I Bonded as Adults

My new profile picture is one I just love.  It was taken by my brother of me walking on the Brooklyn Bridge.  I love it for many reasons;   It is a cool picture, and  I looked really cute that day.  Mostly though it is because that was a really special week-end.

At the time I was traveling a lot for work (about 75% of the time), I loved it but did not spend much time with loved ones.  My brother was going through a rough time with his family and really needed a break, so I took him to New York for the week-end.  

It was great in so many ways, I felt like I was doing a good thing helping my brother briefly get away from his troubles, it gave my brother some space & fun, and it was really the first time that we bonded as adults.

Growing up we had a love/hate relationship.  We used to fight like cats and dogs, I thought he was lazy, selfish, rude, self-centered, he thought I was a little witch (his word was actually not that nice).  At the same time,  we relied on each other a huge amount and would always back each other up to Mom or Dad.  I think that this dynamic is pretty common for children of divorce, your sibling is going through the same thing you are and  is a constant in the back and forth between parents.

For years prior to this trip we had been getting along fine,  but in general we didn't hang out together, just family occasions.

On this trip we were together for a whole week-end and it was good.  We did touristy stuff  (Empire State Building, Brooklyn Bridge, Times Square), we shopped (normally I shop shoes, but we shopped a lot of sports stores), ate at diners, we walked and walked and walked. My Brother is a huge basketball guy and we were able to get tickets into a March Madness game in Madison Square Gardens.

It was fun, but the best part was seeing my Brother happy & excited.  He called our Dad from the Brooklyn Bridge to say Hey - I am smoking a stogie on the Brooklyn Bridge and called his buddies from the game, even though you couldn't hear a thing.    

Grandpa Rocks, or, Baby only Loves Husband

On Saturday Grandpa came to baby-sit the Baby since I will be going back to work fairly soon and we were quite worried that Baby would freak out.  Grandma had watched him the previous week and it did not go well.

Baby and Grandpa had a great time together, they played there was no crying, Baby was fine.

So, maybe Baby has just decided he doesn't like Grandma.   Then I realize, no, it is not Grandma, it is just that Baby has separation anxiety about Husband.  The day Grandma baby-sat, Husband & I went out together, this was the first time since Baby was born.  The entire week after Grandma baby-sat, Baby was super-clingy with Husband in the morning when he left for work and at night when he got home.  

When Grandpa was here, Husband had left for work hours earlier, so it was just me leaving and there were no problems.  Now, I have been away from Baby previously, but Baby was always with Husband when I wasn't there (except for the once when my Brother watched him and I think that bad experience was because Baby was nursing every 10 minutes at that time and we hadn't found a bottle that he would take yet).  The day after Grandpa baby-sat, I went out and Baby was home with Husband - No Problems.

So, I have concluded that either Grandpa is the best or the Baby only cares about Husband.