I Got Just One Life In A World That Keeps On Pushin’ Me Around But I’ll Stand My Ground

My Grandpa has been calling.

I haven’t answer the phone because, well because I didn’t want to talk to him. He first left a voicemail maybe 2 weeks ago now.

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But this morning when my phone rang, I didn’t recognize the number so I picked up. Turns out, he had got in touch with his friend and had managed to get his hands on a ‘package’ for me.

I guess he’s coming down this weekend for Thanksgiving but he was worried about how he was going to get it on the plane (good call). So he wanted to get my address from me.

I could tell he’d either been thinking it through or he’s done this before, because he was explaining how his post office has special packages he can use to wrap it and he’ll use a fake return address, all this detail. So I’m leaning towards this not being his first time doing¬† something along these lines.

He also said this one’s on him, and all I could think was it’s the least he could do. Well that and not expect me to offer to roll one with him… Ever.

That being said. I’ve been waffling back and forth between telling my sister R about what happened with my Grandpa. I don’t want to make a big deal about it for my sake, but I want to make her aware of it for her kids safety. I have 4 nieces, and I would be horrified if something happened to them that I could have prevented by letting R know. But on the other hand I don’t want to cause issues if this was a one-off situation… like I think to myself how far would he really go? My nieces are YOUNG!?!

So for now, I’m not officially decided, but since there’s been no talk of my nieces visiting him any time soon, I at least have some time to make the decision. Although if I find out my sister is considering sending them there for a visit without other adult supervision… like next summer for a vacation or something, then 100% I’m telling her.


-Tom Petty/I Won’t Back Down-

She Needs Wide Open Spaces Room To Make Her Big Mistakes She Needs New Faces She Knows The High Stakes

I know it’s been a week+ since I posted. I’ve been going back and working on editing my previous posts like I mentioned before.

But I had to write about today because again, I’ve been seriously asked by an employer if I would consider moving to Kelowna.

The first time was when I was 20, and I was working as a Nanny for this wonderful family. At this point I’d been their Nanny for around two years. They were good bosses and we got along well. Because of a new direction in the dads job, they were planning on moving to Kelowna. The mom would often show me houses they were looking at, and when they finally decided on a beautiful house, she explained in great detail all the fantastic stuff it came with. Starting with it being in a gated community, steps away from the lake… and it had a pool house in the back. And then she paused. I’m there waiting for more… like yeah ok?? Then she explained how they had taken into consideration me possibly moving with them when they were buying the house and if I were to come I would have my own little house in the back. So would I like to move to a new province with them?

Wow. I know I’m a good employee, but I did not see this coming. Up until that point, since I was working two jobs, I had just figured I would pick up more shifts at the restaurant for now until I figured out my next move. I asked her if I could have some time to think about it, and she said for sure and that was that.

I went home and thought about my life here and how at the time I was dating E, and I actually 100% truth, used him as my reason to stay. Well that and deep down I felt that if I moved with them now, I would feel obligated to be their Nanny forever. And I did not want to be a 40 year old Nanny. So after a couple days I told my boss that I was truly grateful for the offer, but I didn’t feel like I was ready to leave my life here, and that E and I were getting really serious so I didn’t want to jeopardize that.

Fast forward to today, and my current boss A asks me to step outside and brings up the possibility of us relocating to Kelowna if we are all on board with the idea. Like I said before, I work in a small office, where there are currently just the 3 of us actually in the office. We recruit people from all over Canada to work in remote areas up north, and most of the work is done over the phone/email. We don’t really have the guys we hire in office for anything so we can pretty much be based out of whatever city we want. And weather wise, Kelowna would be MUCH better than where I currently am, as well as so many other positives.

As far as attachments to my current city… I don’t have many. I’m easy going and as you know I’ve moved country’s before so a relocation to another province seems like a drop in the bucket to me. I mean at least we’d still be in Canada.

I mentioned it to my parents, and my mom felt like it would be good, although she told me she cried after the phone call, which I totally get. It was hard on them when I upped and moved to Africa with their grandkids. My dad straight up told me that he didn’t like it and I shouldn’t do it. Unless I was 30 years invested into the job and my pension was hinged on it, I should just get another job here in the city.

But the thing is, I really have no attachment to where I live. I hate the winters. I don’t like the big city feel. Among so many other factors.

So to be given the opportunity to move to a warmer, smaller town, where I have family already, AND have a job there? Why wouldn’t I jump at that?

Plus at this point having been asked by 3 different people (two bosses and also when K asked if I would consider living there) to move to the same city, kinda seems like maybe I should start listening to the hints the world is trying to send my way.

So for now, it’s just an idea that’s floating around the office, but maybe this is the big move number 3 that the psychic/palm reader was talking about lol.


-Dixie Chicks/Wide Open Spaces-

I Never Lose Nothing But Damn I Done Had It I Ain’t Never Strike Out They Can’t Average What I Batted No

So thanks to E constantly delaying the divorce, today is officially my eight year wedding anniversary. And I’ve spent 3.5 of those years trying to put E in my past. It’s a work in progress.

August 7th, 2009. The seventh day, of the eighth month, of the ninth year. E didn’t care when we got married but to me it was important and plus it looked aesthetically pleasing on the invitation. 07.08.09.

But now, 8 years later and it’s all a moot point. 8 years of life with him that, to be fair is almost done. The divorce papers (like I’m sure I’ve said before) are almost signed. We’re just waiting on E and hopefully he doesn’t find something else to comment on and ask to change last-minute again.
But that’s not the reason I’m writing today.

When I woke up this morning, on my ‘anniversary’ I found myself reflecting back at my life not so much during the past eight years, but more just the past 1 year, and at how much has changed, and I just wanted to do a recap. Mostly for myself. To remind myself, that yeah C, you continue to make shitty mistakes but you also are growing as an individual. And that’s what’s important.
So, without further ado, here’s my year in review.

  • I bought and moved into my very own house with only my name on the mortgage.
  • I quit a high stress job for an equal paying position but I work only 4 days a week now, receive bonuses and my boss is way cooler.
  • I tried marijuana for the first time this year and now take edibles almost daily. They’ve helped so much with the headaches I used to get from my seizures.
  • I got my empty birdcage tattoo to represent that there are no bars holding me back anymore as well as replaced two piercings (one on my wrist and one on my ankle) I had to remove a long time ago for an MRI..
  • I went to a shooting range and shot a gun for the first time, doing quite well at it.
  • I bought tickets for my first couple concerts. Jay Z in December, and also I’m taking my Dad to see Guns and Roses this month for his birthday… to be honest I’m actually most excited to see Our Lady Peace who’s opening for them lol, they were the first CD I ever bought and Innocent is my jam!
  • Had my Grandma pass away.
  • Stopped attending church to take some time and figure out what I truly believe.
  • Went to a psychic for the first time for a palm reading and chakra clearing.
  • Started my first official diet (Jenny Craig), that I chose to do on my own not because my mom was pressuring me to. And have lost 15 pounds on it so far (about 1.5 months).
  • Heck I even went on a couple of firsts ‘dates’!
  • Bought a guitar (I owned 2 as a teen but I sold one and the other was stolen when E and I had our house broken into) yesterday. I realized if music is my passion, and I love it so much, then do something about it again. Make a way to enjoy it more in my everyday life.
  • Started this blog ūüėé.

So maybe I am growing as a person. Maybe I have learned from some of my mistakes. Maybe I am becoming a better me. Oh trust me, I know I’m still making stupid choices. But maybe… just maybe, they are becoming fewer and farther between?

So for now, I’m for real going to go buy myself some “anniversary” roses. Because I can. And I need them. And I’m the only one whose gonna do it.


-Future Ft. Nicki Minaj/You Da Baddest-

Happy Birthday To You Happy Birthday Dear Little E, Happy Birthday To You.

Today is little E’s 7th birthday. And I have so many things I’ve been wanting to post about, but decided to write about the day he was born. Because that’s a story of its own!

My pregnancy with little E went great. Absolutely no morning sickness, none of the uncomfortable sleeping at night, just a tiny bit of heartburn near the end which I’m pretty sure can be attributed to all the hair he was born with. I’m very lucky to have had such a good pregnancy because E was no support. Throughout the 9 months, he would often suggest that the baby was in fact not his, and that the night of my failed housewarming ( https://shewassetfree.wordpress.com/2017/04/12/house-warming-it-was-cold-as-fuck/) I had slept with S, and therefore who knows how many other men. As you can imagine this was difficult to deal with while pregnant, and I didn’t feel very supported, so it was nice to at least feel like the baby was working with me.

The only thing that really changed for me was that I craved steak like nobody’s business. I could eat steak for breakfast, lunch, dinner and still want more, until some blood work revealed that it was amazing I was still up and walking since my iron was SO depleted. Once I got on some iron supplements, the cravings slowed and then the only that bothered me was smell.

EVERYTHING stunk to me. Especially E. He would get home from work, I’d have to ask him to shower. He’d come home from rugby practice, where he just showered, and I’d make him do it again. Before we left anywhere, I’d ask him to reapply deodorant, or shower. I know he didn’t actually stink more than before, but to me? Oh god the smell was awful. At one point we went to my parents for supper and I actually apologized to my mom for how E smelled and she’s like ‘honey, he doesn’t smell, it’s your nose/hormones’ … didn’t matter to me, I still needed him to shower 3x a day if not more.

So, anyways as we neared, and then passed little E’s due date, I found myself doing all the preparations for the baby. E didn’t put together one baby item. He didn’t purchase one particle of clothing for our first child. He was barely interested in conversations about the name even. Except of course to throw in the lies about the middle name and confuse the shit outta everything. But as far as first names go, it was basically up to me, which I’m so grateful for! At least now I don’t have to say my kids names every day and have regrets about them. I picked them both out and love them throughly.

Since apparently my womb is so comfortable, little E stayed 10 days past his due date and I had an appointment to be induced. E decided he didn’t want to come with me, so I drove myself to the hospital. He basically said let him know how it goes and if anything happens, he would come later.

So I was on my own. 22 years old. About to give birth to my first child. And my husband chose work over supporting me.

I went through the process and stayed for about an hour when the nurse came to check me out and said there was no signs of labor so I could head home for now, but to come back if anything changes. So I headed home. I had some slight back pain but, since this was my first time, I kept waiting for ‘contractions’ and yet had no idea what they would feel like. My back pain kept getting worse and I had no way of relieving it, so I took a shower. E was home from work by the time I got out of the shower but I was in so much pain all I could do was sit on my towel on my bed. This ended up being probably the best thing for me, since while I was still on the towel, my water broke and I finally clued in that my back pain was actually contractions. #idiot
I told E we had to go now, and his response was that I had to wait since he needed to eat since he just got him from work and was hungry. So while E did whatever he did in the kitchen, I got myself dressed and hauled my hospital bag out to the car, all while in labor.
E finally moseyed his way to the car and we went to the hospital where I was admitted ASAP.

My mom met us at the hospital since at this point I knew E was going to be probably not too much help and to be honest I was scared and needed someone to be there as a support. Most women have their husbands for support, but well, I had E soooo, mom was like my plus one.

My mom came into the room and then E left! I was like what the? And he told us that he didn’t think he was going to stay in the room because where he’s from the men don’t stay, it’s more of a woman’s thing. I was like get your ass in this room right now! You got me into this! You are going to help me through it! I don’t care if you just stand there silently or even faint! You stay!
So he did, although he just stood there quietly, he stayed in the room.

Meanwhile, because everything was happening so quickly, my room was buzzing with people. My maid of honor at my wedding is actually a labour and delivery nurse and was working that night, which was the only thing keeping me sane. She tried to make sure I had the best Dr. and nurses and when the actual delivery came she was right there helping out too.

I didn’t have a big ‘delivery plan’. I knew I was all for the drugs though, I mean if I can do this pain-free, then load me up. So they started with the laughing gas (which did nothing to help) while my MOH tracked down an anesthesiologist. The anesthesiologist came and did his poke, but for some reason, the epidural didn’t work either, and this baby was coming NOW.

I remember the Dr doing that dumb counting thing, like for your breathing, and everyone’s saying oh you’re doing great, good job, keep going, and I just snapped. I actually yelled ‘SHUT UP’ at everyone. In my mind I just wanted quite so I could focus on my own in peace, plus their words were doing nothing to help so I just wanted silence. After I yelled though I felt bad so I kept apologizing, and trying to explain how I just needed quite, and everyone’s like no it’s ok, you can yell all you want.

So, the pushing is going on and there’s so much happening in my room with me and E and my mom and about 6-8 staff (I don’t even know for sure) because something is going wrong…. as I’m pushing, the baby gets stuck. So my MOH gets a stool and stands on it, holds her arms out like she’s about to perform CPR and then literally JUMPS and pushes onto my belly and helps push little E out. Who let me tell you, WAS NOT LITTLE!

Little E was 9lbs 7ozs and a short little sucker. He looked like a sumo wrestler no lie. A cute sumo wrestler. The Dr who delivered him felt the need to comment saying ‘Oh if I had known he was this big, I would’ve done a C-section’. Oh thank you for that. Thanks for saying that NOW! When there’s no going back. Thanks for talking about the huge new life I just pushed through my vagina while you use a dozen stitches to close me up. Yeah, thanks. Real professional.

But, aside from having my genitalia ripped open, the drugs not working, and E not being interested at all in being there…

It was the most beautiful day of my life. No I didn’t cry. But I was very broken at the time. I did cherish it though. I remember little E had no problem starting to nurse and the feeling of having a new life, a human, so small yet fully functioning, look into your eyes while feeding off of the life you bring it? Priceless.

I stayed up all night just watching him. Making sure he was ok. Changing diapers that didn’t need to be changed, but just to do it.. Waking up E so he could bring me the baby. Holding him. Touching him. Stroking his hair. Looking into his eyes. Singing to him. Just loving him. And I would do it all again.
Everything I’ve been through with E, I would do again just to have the amazing experience of little E’s life it has brought me.

7 years ago today.


-Patty Hill&Mildred Hill/Happy Birthday-

She’s All Through, Life’s Not Blowing Her Kisses Thanks To You

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=CbaxKcxtPY4

Woooooow. I had an interesting night to say the least lol. It started Friday night when I had my 4 nieces sleepover and it was chaotic with 6 kids in my little townhouse (that's being kind). Then I drove them the half hour – 45 minutes back to their house during which we played a bunch of old school music my sister had in the car that I remembered from when I was about … oh 14-15? The kids loved it since I guess my sister doesn't blast the music and sing and dance like no ones looking in the car like me… to each their own lol. Anyways we had this one on repeat just like when I was a teen, and it stuck with me…

After I dropped the girls off, my kids and I went to a friends house and did up a couple of batches of jam, well she and her eventual mom in law did. (Face it, your gonna get married) and I just kinda dinked around like a useless blob in the kitchen but it was fun. Another old co-worker was there and it was fun to just have some girl chat and catch up on some gossip from my old job.

I ended up leaving her house with a bunch of fresh jam, AND some fresh mushrooms. You know what it is.

So my kids were exhausted from having two sleepovers in a row ( the one night at my parents and then the cousins at my place) so they feel into bed by 6:30. Z actually wanted to sleep by around 5 but I didn't want her up at like 4 in the morning so it was a big effort to keep her awake until even 6:30. By 6:45 they were both snoring heavily and I had brewed my first cup of shroom tea.

Taste? Totally fine. Effect? Absolutely nothing. I waited an hour… no go. So I got impatient and just ate two. I figured if the two I brewed in the tea did nothing then let me try this. Plus I know how much it takes for me to get drunk or high with weed so I was pretty confident I would be ok.

About an hour, maybe an hour and a half later while was literally reading up on the effects of mushrooms and what to expect etc, and my phone started glowing, and the words started… I dunno the words were coloured? Lol it was great.

But even more than that I had amazing self discoveries.

Nothing like how to solve world hunger or anything but I did end up writing this letter.

And, I feel good about it.

So here's an insight into my mind… high on mushrooms for the first time.

-Tobymac/Gone-

Please Don’t Look At Me With Those Eyes Please Don’t Hint That Your Capable Of Lies I Dread The Thought Of Our Very First Kiss

Maybe my tape measure is faulty, because I can think of no other logical explanation for how every man I’ve recently met recently whose profile said they were 6 feet plus, turned out near my height or as was the case last night, MUCH shorter. I’m 5’9, unless, like I said, every tool I’ve ever used to measure my height was faulty, then men just lie about their height, as if that’s not something noticeable the woman is going to pick up on ASAP. If you feel you MUST lie about something, lie about your shoe size or how many cars you own, or tell me some sad sob story about how your long lost brother died when you were 12 and so you do charity work in his name… just not something obvious that I’m going to be able to call you out on the minute I see you! Common!

So it started off, this guy I’ve really casually been chatting to for a couple months asked me out for coffee last night. My kids were spending the night at my parents (Woooo party ūüéČ lol) and so I agreed. Turns out he lived really close and so we picked a coffee shop nearby and a time and that was that.

I decided to walk to the Timmys since it was close by and I just wanted a nice stroll without kids and a chance to clear my head before I met the guy. Basically it was my pep talk time lol. I’d hardly done this before, so since I had about 5 minutes to get ready I brushed my teeth, rolled on some deodorant, went pee and that was the extent of my ‘date’ prep. I threw on my chucks, still in the same clothes I wore to work, stuck in my headphones and headed out the door. Hey I figured if you only give me 5 minutes to get ready, how good can you really expect me to look lol?
The whole 20 minute walk I’m going over scenarios in my head, while reminding myself that if I don’t like him I can leave, and I don’t owe him anything.

So I got to the coffee shop and met the guy. First impression? Eh. I knew right off the bat he was not the one. I found myself comparing him to other men and not liking many aspects of his personal appearance as well as mannerisms. Don’t get me wrong, he was a great guy and we got alone just fine, like I had a decent night, but no thanks, I’m not interested in doing that again.

He was sitting in a booth so I walked in and sat across from him and we said our hi’s and all that awkward stuff. Then he asked me what I wanted and I gave him my order and then excused myself to use the washroom quickly. I just wanted to regroup and also I’ve been drinking so much water lately that after the walk my bladder was going to burst.
I came out and he was still in line so I joined him and our turn was up. He ordered for us, remembering my order like a pro and we kept up the banter no problem. The problem though? Is that I found myself slouching so that I didn’t seem so tall. It was weird, but subconsciously I feel like if a man goes to such lengths to lie about his height, he must be worried about it, so let me support him by not ever seeming taller than him or something… ridiculous I know, but while we were waiting for our teas I realized a few times that I wasn’t standing as I normally would. Instead my legs were more spread or my shoulders dramatically slouched. I think he noticed it to, since he was constantly leaning on things as if he could defend his height lie by saying oh I’m taller than this it’s because I’m leaning or sitting on the edge here etc.
But moving on lol. We got our drinks and then we road tripped to Costco. But nooooo not the 2 right near us, we had to drive to the one way on the other side of town… because, I realized later, 2 buddy’s of his worked in the liquor store at that location and I think he just wanted to be seen with me.
So we spent over an hour browsing Costco for about 6 items he needed. That’s it. What a waste of time!
I get it was supposed to be fun, but he just kept pushing the cart so slowly OR WORSE stopping it for like 5 minutes in the middle of the busiest aisle to talk… about nothing! Well that’s a lie. He spent a good solid 10 minutes telling me literally everything he eats in a day. ūüėę. At one point in that conversation I actually told him I was bored with it (rudest thing I’ve ever done on a date) and he said I know but I’m almost done… and kept going! He used to be a really heavyset guy and over the last 3 years or so I guess he’s lost about 50 pounds, which is great! But I don’t need your detailed meal plan. Like not only did he tell me WHAT he ate, but also portion sizes (ounces and everything) and how he prepared it. It was excruciatingly boring to listen to.

So then we went and browsed the books and movies section where we saw the CD/DVD’s that teach you to speak another language. So we talked about that for a minute and he’s like I’ve always wanted to learn a different language, I should get one. I’m just thinking like dude, don’t get one. If you haven’t bought one by now, you don’t need it/won’t use it, don’t buy it just to impress me. But I kept my mouth shut. Turns out, yep he’s apparently going to attempt to learn Spanish ūüėŹ. Sure he is. That CD is going to sit unopened in his house forever, but that’s not my problem.

Then we finally made it out of Costco and next door towards the liquor store. I’m not a big drinker but he DEFINITELY is. He kept discussing this alcohol vs. that alcohol and the benefits of one compared to the other. It was just another boring conversation. Then he met his 2 friends that I guess he hits up the gym with and he was polite about it, he didn’t chat it up with them forever it was a simple quick hey how’s it going what’s up kinda thing. Then he bought about $400 worth of alcohol. 400. W. T. F. Dude? Is this a normal Thursday night for you? Or how often do you do this? Or is this a one time impress C move? Cause I’m more concerned than impressed to be honest! But whatever your not my responsibility.

Anyways, we got into the car and at this point we didn’t really have a destination and he was just driving in the direction we came. I hate that. I don’t just ‘go for drives’ I think it’s pointless and a waste of gas. When I drive I have a destination or I at least know like let’s go for a drive around the city… then I know once we finish the loop around the city we’re done and we go home. But the whole just drive thing… no. Not for me. So I was like just head to my place, mainly based on the fact I needed to know where we were going. Once we got to my house a massive storm had started and we sat in the car for a while chatting.

I didn’t really want to invite him in but I didn’t really want to be rude and not… so I was like oh, you probably have to get that meat home and in the fridge… or did you want to come in? What time do you have to get up for work again? Knowing he gets up at like 4 AM.
So I did my part lol and he politely declined my lame invite and said yeah he had to get home or he would have come in for sure. Next time definitely. I was like that’s assuming there is a next time but whatever. I thanked him for the night and then ran into my house through the rain… oh he did offer me an umbrella but I honestly didn’t want to have any reason to have to see him again so I turned it down, besides what’s a little water right? I won’t melt. At least I haven’t yet.

He texted me about 15 minutes later something about getting home through the storm ok, and he tried to continue the conversation for a bit, but I honestly just wanted to chill and maybe watch some tv or sleep, so I wasn’t to responsive.
So to be fair, it was a pleasant enough night, but one I don’t want to repeat. So the next day I politely as possible texted him and explained that he was a nice guy and I had a good time, but he just wasn’t what I was looking for and I didn’t see it going anywhere. Then I wished him all the best.
Better luck to the next one.


-Blink 182/First Date-

I Am Just A Troubled Soul Who’s Weighted To The Ground. Give Me The Strength To Lay This Burden Down

So I went for it.

Today is officially day one of my new “lifestyle”

I stopped pussyfooting around regarding my weight loss and signed up for Jenny Craig. Now don’t laugh (I used to kinda inwardly laugh at people who choose this option, but hear me out). I choose it because after making my standard Pro/Con list in my head about all my different options, I came to realize that food prep¬†is my downfall.

I know myself, I won’t track what I eat, so most “programs” i.e. Weight Watchers were out. I know I wouldn’t hold myself accountable to just a basic app on my phone to¬†monitor my food intake, because common, I’m not that reliable when it comes to writing things down or tracking things, like I just last year starting tracking my period and I’ve had that for like 18 years! I know I won’t make time to go to the gym, because I basically hate it, all the changing/gym clothes/sweaty people/awful music, so that option was out.

Which lead me to Jenny. The go to for middle aged women everywhere lol. (seriously the lady on the phone kept making references to being a middle aged woman and making the choice for yourself after all so many years of failed attempts at other things.. I had to tell her I was only 29 and this was my first choice, and in my head tell myself I’m not going to fail) I choose this option because they prepare your food for you. They prep it for the week, can deliver it to your door, and make up a menu to explain what to eat and when. Seriously it’s the easiest thing for me. I don’t enjoy cooking at all, so after looking at all the options out there, it was a no brainer. I got my first week’s worth delivered last night and (after realizing I had limited freezer space and that it might be an issue from now on), I sorted out my meals for today and, as my kids would say, it was “easy peasy lemon squeasy” I actually felt accomplished and prepared for the day. I also felt a little shocked at the amount of food I’m expected to eat throughout the course of my day. I can 100% confidently say¬†my problem in the past is not that I¬†overeat. I pretty sure my issue is more along the lines of not choosing the “right” foods, as well as my digestion, which thanks to my Naturopath¬†is ever so slowly getting better.

Either way, I’m determined and dedicated to do at least one month on the program, to see how it goes.¬†¬†Then from there since I’m hoping it goes well, I’ll continue it until my Cruise this fall. (WOO cruise lol). Plus, if¬†when I¬†reach my goal weight on Jenny, they give you half your money back, so that’s a win win if I ever saw one.

But I just wanted to let y’all know I’m excited about this. It’s the first time I’ve ever consciously made a choice on my own to do anything positive/healthy long term for my body.

Although I don’t think I ever learned how to properly care for my body and eat super healthy growing up, I don’t blame anyone for my weight, it’s obviously my body, so it’s my responsibility to treat it properly. That being said, I do my best to silently watch what my kids eat, and teach them that food is used as a tool to give our body energy and fuel, the same way we put gas in¬†a car, we put food in our bodies to keep them going. I remind them that when they are full they can stop, but also try to keep the balance so that they aren’t conveniently full when it comes to veggies lol. When they were younger, I used to serve veggie first, and once that was done, they could eat whatever else was for dinner. That way they got used to finishing their vegetables before anything else, and so far it’s been working good. My kids are both healthy and a very suitable weight for their age/height.

Another contribution to my attitude towards weight loss? I once lost a lot of weight… I looked good. Nope scratch that. I looked amazing. And that’s when I got raped (¬†I Don‚Äôt Ever Wanna Feel Like I Did That Day, Take Me to the Place I Love, Take Me All the Way ). So to say that instance¬†also hasn’t made an impact in how much weight I carry now would be a lie. But I’m ready to move on.

From the fear of men using me.

From the fear of being the best me.

Because I’m going to let anything hold me back.


-Annie Lennox/Little Bird-

 

 

 

 



 

Nobody Said It Was Easy. No One Ever Said It Would Be This Hard

I’d like to say that once I got back to Canada things got better fast. But that would be a complete lie. It was hard. There were so many stressful factors I didn’t even consider when thinking the whole “leave E” thing through.

My parents let us stay with them for which I am so grateful and my parents were SO happy to have their grandkids back from Kenya for good. We figured out a reasonable rent amount, and each of us had our own room downstairs in the house I grew up in. It was nice to have built in babysitters with my parents but to be honest I never really went out. So most nights it was TV in between my parents on the couch. So cool, I know.

It took us about a week to get settled and over the jet lag. We took many trips to Value Village¬†and Goodwill (thrift shops) to outfit the kids with winter clothes and¬†a few toys. Considering we had just moved from +30 to February in Canada it’s an understatement to say we were underdressed and ill prepared.

I was still officially on maternity leave with Z so that helped financially for a bit, but I had huge credit card bills to pay off mainly from flights, E’s most recent one¬†included, so I had to think about what I was going to do to support my kids. I had 3/4’s of my teaching degree already under my belt, but at this time I really didn’t feel like it was my thing. I figured if I was going to go back to school anyway, I might as well make sure it was something I was really wanting.

So I started taking multiple personality tests to see what kind of traits I had and which jobs they matched well with. I needed to make sure I made the best choice because I couldn’t mess anything up. I had little people looking up to me. After at least a dozen quizzes (no joke) I narrowed my decision down to the area of accounting/HR that I though suited me well. I found a program close to home that offered an accounting degree and payroll certification for across Canada¬†start¬†to finish in¬†10 months. The program was designed to be intense but for a faster finish. Sounded perfect for me, since I needed to be back in the work force ASAP making as much money as possible. I applied, got accepted and started all within a week.

I had to find childcare for my kids which was hard since I didn’t even have a regular babysitter. It took me a little while, but I found the perfect dayhome for them 2 minutes from my parents house and on the way to school. The kids loved it and D was and amazing lady.

Now I had to buy a vehicle. I looked around for a while at second hand ones that I could buy straight out with cash, but couldn’t find one I really liked, and¬†that didn’t have any issues. I didn’t want to be dealing with car troubles with all the other troubles I had going on at the time. I ended up going to a dealership and buying the most beautiful Rogue for myself straight off the lot. It was the nicest thing I had ever owned/done for myself¬†and it made me happy every time I looked at the car. I’ve had to sell it since then to buy my house so I currently drive a¬†bucket of bolts¬†I hate, but one day I’ll get myself¬†a nice car¬†again.

Then, there were the people I had to deal with. OH the people. Where to start.

My mom just kept comparing my divorce to hers like a gazillion years ago and the similarities were few and far between yet I was supposed to do everything how she had done it and all the advice was in her opinion super helpful… It wasn’t. She kept telling me about different laws that were so outdated, or paperwork I should file that didn’t exist anymore. It was frustrating. I just wanted to tell her what was going on without her telling me what to do. I just wanted her to listen. But that’s not my mom.

Then at a family get together about a month¬†after I’d gotten back, my older sister R felt it was a good time to give me her¬†opinion on my life. Now R is very dedicated to her Christian faith (her and her husband J are Pastors) and from her perspective, I shouldn’t divorce E. I should “separate from him. Separate forever, but don’t divorce” Also she felt it was appropriate to then tell me that, if I choose to remarry, her and her family would not be attending my second wedding. Her and her husband didn’t believe in divorce and remarriage and therefore wouldn’t support it. ¬†Unless he had cheated on me. (Apparently physical abuse is ok according to God though) She felt she was being kind by giving me a heads up on this. I hadn’t even officially filed for divorce yet (I hadn’t even decided to get a divorce yet) and you’re already talking about my hypothetical second wedding? It was frustrating and made me feel like no longer discussing E with her.

*Since this time R and I have discussed this moment and I explained how it made me feel, and R has apologized for making that comment at that time and the insensitivity of it all. I have forgiven it and we have moved past it*

Anyways then in April, my little sister’s boyfriend D wanted to propose, and asked for my help. The last thing I wanted to do while dealing with my divorce from an abusive crazy ex is help other people in happy healthy relationships get engaged. Petty? Yes, very. ¬†But I helped. I wanted to cry the whole time, but I helped. I also must’ve subconsciously been pissed because I was supposed to record¬†the whole proposal on my phone, and I honestly thought I was videoing the whole thing, but when we went to watch it after there was no video. I don’t know if I forgot to press record or what, but I honestly felt terrible. Either way, she got a beautiful ring on her finger in a room full of her family and friends and flowers. I know she’ll remember it forever without the video… I hope :/

My dad sort of kept to himself about the whole thing. That was his style though. Mostly just let my mom do her thing.¬† But when my sister got engaged, I’ll always remember he brought up the whole “don’t you dare hurt my daughter, or I’ll kill you speech” And in that moment I¬†was so mad at¬†him. It was the same speech he had given E.¬†I was his daughter. I had been hurt. And Dad… you did nothing. You literally did nothing. In the one moment I NEEDED¬†someone to keep their promise to me, to protect me, to keep me safe. You did nothing. For a few weeks all I could think about when I looked at my Dad was how he let me down. I obviously don’t condone violence, and I didn’t actually expect him to do anything to E. But I did want him to shut his mouth about it. It was so hypocritical and made me feel like maybe I wasn’t worth it to him. It took me a while to get over it, and still bothers me to hear him talk about it. I’d rather hear him say nothing than false promises like that.

Then on top off all this, I had constant calls, emails, Facebook messages, texts you name it, from E and his family. Harassing and threatening me at every turn. I blocked all sorts of numbers and they would just call from other phones. Then, they started bothering my mom on Facebook.

It was no wonder that I became depressed and suicidal by the Fall of 2014.


-Coldplay/Scientist-

 

I Mean This Is Exhausting You Know We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

So today I was back at the airport for the first time since flying back from Kenya 3 years ago.

I felt like a deja vue kinda thing happening. I had to head out there for work to meet some of the guys we’d recruited for work and it was just a causal meet and greet before they headed for their shift up north, but just being in the airport was weird. The last 8 times I have walked through those doors I was either flying to or from Kenya.

People ask if I will ever go back, and I don’t think I’m strong enough for it. I love Africa, and yes I will go back someday. But not to Kakamega. Most likely not even to Kenya. I have a house there that I designed and paid for, every square inch, and I know people, but I can’t go there.¬† I’d love to travel to maybe Egypt to see the pyramids or something if it ever settles down in the area, or back to South Africa and Namibia again as far as Africa goes. But, no. I will not be going back to Kenya. There are too many memories I don’t want to have too deal with. Denial at its finest.

In the same way I will not be going back to E. He actually had the audacity to send me a text last week asking me to forgive him, and that we get the family back together.

UMMMM What?!??! Are you delusional? Ohhhh wait. Yes, you are. Here I am, just wanting this stupid divorce to be done with and finalized. It’s been over 3 years of back and forth and him. And now he wants to get back together. Like are you daft? It’s not the first time he’s asked me to get back with him, but I honestly can’t believe that after everything I went through, he would think I would want to go back.

E pic

So I texted him back¬†and in the most polite and simple way (I’ve learned to use small words with E) explained that, I have forgiven him as best I can, but that doesn’t mean we will be getting back together.¬† A couple days later I got a call from him and I asked if he understood what I wrote. He said sort of, but he just thought we should be done with this divorce and move on. I told him this isn’t some sort of “phase” I’m going through. The only “moving on” I’m doing is without him. 3 years and he still thinks this is a joke or something.

So I asked him if he thought I enjoyed being his wife, if he thought it was nice for me. He actually said yes. So I asked him to name 3 times it was pleasant for me to be his wife. That’s less than one occasion¬†per year of our marriage.

The phone¬†was silent on his end. A good solid 30 seconds go by before he responds with “That’s a tricky question”

That’s the problem E. It shouldn’t be a tricky question. You can’t even think of ONE time where it was somewhat nice to be married to you. And you think I should do it again? This is your last ditch effort to win me back? Hell. No.

I’ve tasted freedom. And however hard and shitty and difficult and sad and lonely it may be sometimes… most times…It’s infinitely better then being with E.


-Taylor Swift/We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together-

Tell The World I’m Coming… Home Let The Rain Wash Away All The Pain Of Yesterday

I booked flights for about 10 days out. They were the right combination of cheapest and nearest in date. Well they weren’t cheap, but I just wanted out of there ASAP. Then, after I booked the flights and paid, I sent an email to my mom letting her know our itinerary and just an update on what was going on. I didn’t let anyone else know what was going on because I already felt I was being watched like a hawk with my in-laws visiting all the time, probably reporting back to E.¬† So I attempted to¬†go about life as normal.

Until, I got a call from E. He apparently had been monitoring my email and had seen the email to my Mom. In reality, there was not much he himself could do about me leaving since he was back in Canada now, but that didn’t mean he made it enjoyable for me. He hacked my Facebook and made a single post saying¬†“I’m divorcing E” My friends and family started reaching out to me before I had a chance to delete it. I’m never on FB so they all thought it was a little out of the ordinary and wanted to make sure things were OK.¬† Although the statement wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t how I wanted word to get out, for obvious reasons. So after changing all my passwords, I braced myself for what was to come next, while still trying to get over the fact that E had been keeping tabs on all my emails and social media without letting me know. Not that I had anything to hide until now, but still, pissed me off.

Visits from my in-laws increased ten-fold. In fact my mother in-law took it upon herself to just come and stay ALL day. No matter how many times I asked her to leave my house. She would come in the morning, and grab a chair and sit in the middle of MY living room, and order around my farm boy and whomever else had dropped in for the moment.

Calls from E were constant. To myself, to my farm boy, even to the neighbours. It became so overwhelming. To everyone.

So I decided to switch my flights. At this point I didn’t care how much money it cost to re-book them, but I had to get us out¬†of there. I paid the $2000+ to change my current booking from a week out, to 2 days away. Then I started the packing. At this point everyone knew what was going on, so keeping it on the down low was pointless. I gave away most of the kids things to the neighbouring children.¬†Clothes that had bee worn out by the Kenyan sun, toys that¬†were replaceable, everything.¬†I had very little to pack personally, since anything of mine that hadn’t fit in the 1 of 3 suitcases¬†that fateful Sunday, E had taken upon himself to throw down the outhouse instead of burning¬†like he had threatened leaving me with¬†hardly anything.

I gave away our chickens to the farm boy and sent him on his way, thanking him for everything he’d done for me. We spent time with our neighbours, visiting and them crying, knowing in the back of my mind I was never going to return here.

Everyone was constantly telling me it wasn’t a big deal and I should forgive him. Which further cemented my belief that I HAD to get out. Now.

M had offered to help drive us to the airport which was in the town over after we pick little E up from school at lunch.  I had told her she could have our mattress which I had brought from Canada a few months ago. I felt it was the least I could do for them and everything they had done for us. Because finding a good mattress in Kenya? Is like me finding a good man.

The morning of the flights arrived, and lo and behold so did my mother-in-law. Whatever. What’s she gonna do to stop us? M arrived with her husband and 1 son to help with the luggage. They backed the van up to our back door and that’s when one of the most stressful days of my life started.

My M-I-L seriously thought she could singlehandedly stop us from leaving. She stood in the doorway and would refuse to move for anyone trying to get in or out with a suitcase. Everyone was super polite with her… “Excuse me, could you move please, I have to get out please,” then trying to squeeze past. Which wasn’t simple because my M-I-L isn’t a tiny lady. Then when she realized that her just standing in the way wasn’t working, she started grabbing the luggage out of the van. So M had to guard the van, while her husband and son brought the things out. But my M-I-L was still not impressed by that. She started grabbing things straight from M’s hands, which M was not having. My M-I-L even went so far as to push M away from some of my things, and then claim that M had beaten her!

I know, that in this moment I was not this most helpful person, but I honestly think I shut down. I couldn’t believe she was behaving like this. She started screaming and yelling and acting like we were the worst human beings in the world.

Then I saw my M-I-L walk towards the gate, so I rushed out the front door to get there first. I didn’t want her to close the gate and then sit in front of it or something ridiculous so that we couldn’t drive the van out.¬†So I sat on the ground calmly in front of the gate holding I open¬†with Z on my lap and watched her come towards me.

You could see the look in her eyes she was pissed. She knew that she was helpless in stopping me from leaving. She walked up to me and started on a huge rant. So I simply told her to fuck off. I¬†know not kind or polite, but the situation called for it.¬†Which I’ll always remember led to her saying¬†“Yeah fuck me. Fuck me in the vagina” I hate to say I kinda chuckled at that. Then she grabbed her phone and called my father-in-law. She spoke in Swahili but I could tell she wasn’t happy. I also knew that what she was telling him was probably a lie. Seemed to run deep¬†in that family.

M & D pulled up the van and then I got in with Z and we headed down the road. We got about 5 minutes down the road on our way into town to get little E from school, when I see my F-I-L racing towards us on a piki piki.

The piki piki pulls over and I see him pull a stone the size of Z’s head out of his bag. Which means at some point on his way to my house, he stopped on the side of the road and chose a rock specifically for this purpose. He stops in front of the van so D couldn’t drive. And then proceeds smashed the front of the window with the rock. M was yelling at D to drive past him¬†but my F-I-L was standing right in front and D didn’t want to run him over. My F-I-L grabbed the rock again and slammed the front window again. By now, M is frantic, I can’t believe this is happening,¬†and D starts slowly moving the van trying to get away.

I’m starting to panic. I have no idea what my in-laws are trying to achieve with all this,¬†or what they are capable of. But D slowly starts to drive and my F-I-L moves out of the way. D speeds up and M is yelling at him to just drive! D can barely see out the window because it’s been smashed to bits by the rock, so he’s trying his best. But all of a sudden we see the piki piki pull up on my¬†side of the van again with my F-I-L on the back. He hurls the rock again and it smashes through the front passenger side window shattering broken glass everywhere. M is covered in glass and yelling at D to drive faster. He’s doing his best to see through the broken window and navigate down the very rough dirt road that’s filled with pot holes. I was brushing glass off myself and Z, and all I could think about was little E.

At this point, I had no idea how far my in-laws would go to try and get me to stay. I was honestly worried that they would kidnap little E from school as like a hostage type thing. D drove off the main road to a friends house where they arranged to borrow a different vehicle for the remainder of the drive. You know, one without the windshield smashed in.¬†I was the most frantic I’ve ever been. I just wanted to get my son and get the¬†hell out of the country.

I called little E’s school and told them not to let little E outside at all. I asked them to please pack all his things and have him waiting in the classroom. I told the teachers to not let ANYONE else, under¬†any circumstance,¬†pick him up except his mzungu (white)¬†mother. Not his grandfather, not his grandmother, no aunts, uncles. Nothing.

The new car arrived with a clear windshield and we switched the luggage. The car was smaller and so just M, and her son and I went in the new vehicle with Z. D stayed behind to deal with his smashed van. We got back on the road again when two minutes later, who pulls out in front of us? My F-I-L.¬† M’s son was driving so the rest of us ducked down so my F-I-L wouldn’t see us. We figured he wouldn’t notice the new car but we didn’t want to take any chances. And at this point I didn’t know what he was¬†thinking or what he had spent the last 20 minutes doing/getting.

We sped as fast as we could into town but it still felt like too long. I called little E’s school twice more to make sure he was safe. We pulled up and I felt like it was a grab and go. I was on the phone with his teacher telling him when we would be pulling up and to get little E. The guard opened the gate and ushered little E out and we pealed out like we were filming the next installment of the Fast and the Furious.

Next, we had to make a stop at the police station to report what had happened to M’s van. I, myself just wanted to get out of town, but I realized this was M’s life and she wasn’t leaving the country. They still had to come back to this mess at the end of the day, so it should be dealt with properly. M filed her police report with a little input from me, and after about an hour we were back on the road.

The first airport was about 2 hours away and it was a stressful ride. So many crazy scenarios ran through my mind. Every ridiculous thing that could happen I thought would happen. I thought maybe my F-I-L might be at the airport when we got there. I thought he might make up all these absurd accusations that would affect me leaving the country¬†for some reason.¬†I’m pretty sure M could sense my paranoia. Her and her son offered to stay with me at the airport until I absolutely had to board the plane. But I was still so stressed out. I thought at any moment I would see the face of any one of my in-laws pop up from around a corner with who knows what to do any number of things. My mind was exploding with possibilities.

Imagination much?

It was finally¬†time for my flight to Nairobi. I can’t even remember if I hugged M goodbye. I know I was so thankful for her and her family for everything they had done. I told her I would pay for the damage to her van. I knew as missionaries, they didn’t have extra cash to be throwing at things like that, and it was definitely not her fault. We would be keeping in touch for sure.

Once on the flight I had about an hour of peace. The kids were relatively good. I had told little E we were going to see Nanna and Nonno (my parents) so he was excited, and Z was only 6 months old so not much trouble there. Once in Nairobi though, I was paranoid again. I had more in-laws there, and I legitimately thought that one of them would show up at the airport. I also last minute realized that my 3 month visa had passed the expiry date, and I might have trouble with exit customs. Originally we were working on duel citizenship so I would have been fine, but now…. I grabbed a pen and altered my entry dates on my visa. I couldn’t handle any more issues, and I just wanted to get out of the country. I was desperate. Highly illegal yep, but this is how desperate I was.

I made it through customs by the help of my cute kids and talking about my Kenyan husband. No shame, because at this point I would do anything to get out. I finally relaxed a little once I was in the boarding area. It was the first time I think I took a full breathe all day. We made it to London without much trouble. Other then the normal perils of travelling with 2 small kids but not like I had a choice of travelling without them.

From London next was Toronto. Where I always get pulled over at customs. Every. Single. Time. This time though, I must’ve looked like a crack head. I’d been through a lot in the past¬†few days and totally got it. But then they started asking little E questions like “”Who is this lady?” “What’s her name” and instead of saying mom he took it so literally and said what my¬†actual¬†name¬†was. Which of course led to more questioning and a search of my bags. Like for real? Do you honestly think I want to be travelling with 2 little kids? Nobody in their right mind would do this for fun! Trust me, these tiny humans are mine and I am obligated to care for them! No human trafficking happening here.

We finally passed customs but had now missed our connecting flight to our final destination. I had to go through the hassle of rebooking (and paying extra¬†for) the final flight a few hours later then the original. Then I grabbed some food for the kids and I and found a place to nap for a few hours¬†until our flight. Once our¬†boarding time came, little E was dead asleep on the floor. I had Z in a sling, also asleep and two carry-ons slung over my shoulder. I tried waking up little E but he was exhausted. No one was around to help so I had to try and pick up little E. I grabbed him as best I could by his arms and lifted him up to carry both kids. I ended up popping his elbow out. Not my best mothering moment, I know. Little E just wanted to sleep though, so even on the plane, he didn’t want me to touch his arm. I wrapped it in a blanket to keep it tight and still and little E slept the whole flight. Meanwhile, I was back and forth to the gallery making bottle’s for Z. During the last 2 days I had been so stressed that my body had entirely stopped producing milk for her. So even though I loved nursing my kids, Z was done at 6 months old, thanks to this stressful situation.

We got to my hometown a mess. Little E was holding his arm because I had popped his elbow out of place. Z was cranky because she wanted to nurse, and there was no milk for her only bottles. I was exhaushed and at my limit. I hadn’t slept in almost 50 hours, I had been through one of the most stressful ordeals ever, and I had no idea what was next.

But we were all alive and would be safe. And that was what was important.

M's pic

M’s van after the fact, posted with the following on FB:

“God never promised a problem free life but He does promise to never leave us. On Wed we were helping a friend leave Kenya when her family attacked our van. The father in law blocked the road and threw rocks at our windshield and then when we got away he came again to continue throwing another rock into my passenger window. God showed us a place to hide and many friends that came to help. We are bruised, cut and shaken up but very happy to be ok”


-Diddy&Dirty Money/Coming Home-