and why regardless of your age, you should wear a helmet when skating.

Our day started out fairly normal for a Sunday morning.  Well a Sunday morning lately.  Oldest Large Child had a soccer training, for which we were late and it wasn’t completely Wee Blonde Child’s fault, nor was it completely OLC’s fault either.  But because OLC was dragging her feet too, I made her stay and train with B team (OLC plays on a C team because its her first year playing).  Our plans later in the day included going to a party for one of our previous dayhome kids and friend.  But I still had to get a gift for Wee Small Man, as he is affectionately called in our house, so off to the shops went Healthy Weighty Wee Man, Wee Blonde Child and me.  It was an excerice in patience for me.  Really one would think that I would know by now, avoiding taking those two shopping.

After academy we went home to get ready for the party at the Lake.  As my monsters seem to be more in to skating than sledding we brought our skates.  It was a great time and as always J & G put out a great spread.  We did some skating, others did some sledding. J brought a couple sleds and was trying to entice people in to doing some racing, all good natured of course! (that’s a laugh as J is really REALLY competitive ~ but we love her anyway!)

So while Oldest Large Child and Wee Blonde Child are off sledding with J, I was skating with Healthy Weighty Wee Man.  We were spinning and stopping and generally messing about on the ice and have a great five year old time.  HWWM was of course wearing his helmet and using the skate trainer as he is not all that stready on his feet just yet.  While messing about I did think to my self that I should really not be messing as I was skating really REALLY aggressively, wearing figure skates and no helmet.  The perfect combination for an accident of some kind and it was not so long ago that I hyper extended my elbow messing about with the kids on the ice and fell.

HWWM decided to go sit down on the benches around the fire place in the middle of the skating rink and I skate up to him.  Stopped.  Stood for about a minute (yes mother this does happen, I can stand still now!) and then the next thing I know, my head is litterally bouncing off the ice and my skates are in the air.  I hit my head so hard, I think I saw all the angels in the trees. Thank God it is winter and winter in Calgary means snow on the ground.  Once I was able to sit up again, the first thing I did was make my way over to get a handful of snow and tenderly place it on the back of my head.  I think half of the first handful went down my back. 

The lump, which would later be referred to as my siamese twin trying to get out of my head, started out really quite small.  About the size of a real goose egg.  After helping G & J clean up after the party and heading home, I pop a couple Tylenol (after calling my mom to make sure I could do so safely) after a couple more hours, the pain is not subsiding.  At all.  And while I had continued to ice (okay snow) my head, the lump had gotten bigger.  Now being me, I went to the internet to find out different treatments for a concussion and if I should be seeking urgent medical treatment.  And you know what?  No?  Well I’ll tell you what.  There are no two websites that gave the same five major signs to seek medical treatment after a bang to the head.  So I called Health Link.  Although hindsight, everytime I have called Health Link all I was told was to go see a doctor.

So a babysitter was got for the monsters and Winsome01 came to my rescue and drove me the three minutes from my house to Urgent Care to get my head looked at.  Which was really exceptional because he lives on the other side of the city from me.   But I didn’t trust myself to drive or walk even that far.  And I knew that W01 would be a calm person to have with me.  The last thing I want is someone freaking out while I’m trying not to.

After poking and prodding by the Doctor, I was told I got a lovely grade two concussion, given some really strong painkillers and sent on my way with the warning that my head was going to hurt worse before it got better.  I got a bigger tongue lashing from Winsome01 for not wearing my helmet than I did from the nurses and doctors that all came to check out my head.

Now … how do I lay down to go to sleep when my head hurts to touch it?

I’m not so fussed, but she loves them!

So behind everything else that has happened, I have met a really, REALLY great person.  I’m going to refer to him as Winsome01.  I met Winsome01 back in November and I don’t think there has been a day since we started talking that we havent spoken in some way shape or form.  We have fun together.  While I’m sure there are limits that we will eventually reach, so far there are no limits to our dates.  AND BY THAT I MEAN … we took salsa lessons for one date, have hung out in a book store on another, spent many hours sitting in Starbucks talking over tea, went ice skating in -27 celcius.

Winsome01 lets me be who I am.  Lets me make my choices and has been a reasonable, calm, not-going-to-fix-it-for-me sounding board when I just need to get it off my chest.  W01 has also been there through everything that has been happening with Paul.  There are times when I really wonder the wisdom of continuing our relationship and moving forward with it.  But then I don’t know who else is going to hold my hand (and sometimes figuratively hold me upright) as I walk through this exceptionally rotten time in my life.

So Winsome01 … whatcha doin’ Wednesday for lunch?

 Wow. I feel old.  At 6:43am PST 21 years ago today, Beautiful Baby Girl was born.  I still have yet to meet her as an adult.  One day maybe.  I am in contact with her through other social media websites and we do have each others email.  When BBG is ready, she will be welcomed.  With open arms, hearts and no doubt tears.  Lots and lots of tears.  Until then, Happy Birthday Beautiful Baby Girl.

I borrowed this picture from BBG’s Facebook Profile album. It shows her beauty with out giving away her identity completely.

I had a conversation today that nearly made me want to vomit.  Really.  I am still reeling from the news.  Apparently I have become complacent in my compassion for my ex-husband.  I was told that Paul is still very very angry.  Very angry.  He views the events that happened at Christmas as my own doing.  I literally felt like I was being hit in the gut and my wind was taken away.  And once again I hurt.  Deeply hurt.

I am really at a loss for what to feel for him anymore other than deep sorrow.  It’s hard.  Really, really hard.  I know Paul has caused me great hurt on so many levels.  I know there is no way to be able to understand why he feels such great hatred towards me.  I really truly believe that Paul may not know why he has the feelings he has.  SO much of Paul’s formative years were marred by conflict, not only in his home, but in his general life being raised in the heart of “Bandit Country”, South Armagh, Northern Ireland during the height of The Troubles.

Apparently I am to become a poster woman for domestic voilence and the severety that can happen.  Paul has been in police custody since the early morning hours of Christmas Eve.  That is 46 days to date.  I can’t imagine what its like to be in jail.  I don’t envy Paul at all.  In fact I feel great sadness when I think about him.  There is so much he is going to miss out on.  Sadly all because Paul has no control when it comes to alcohol. 

Compassion.  I must focus on compassion.  I know there are people who want me to remain mad at Paul.  There are times I want to.  But at the end of the day, he is a man pushed beyond his limits for coping.  Inside that hard shell of a man is a hurting, bruised, battered person who is just reaching out for help.  Have you ever torn a bandage off a festering wound that has stuck to the scab?  That is what Paul is experiencing trying to heal emotionally.  Is it better to leave the bandage on the wound and let the infection dig deeper in to the flesh? It hurts to tear off that bandage.  And I’m sure the pain of debriding that wound is not comfortable either.

I can only hope that Paul is open to the healing he needs.  I know of his personal past.  I am deeply sadened he had to live it.  I hope he is able to heal the old wounds so the new wounds aren’t as painful.

okay in years Oldest Large Child is going to kill me for posting this before getting it fixed, but I’m a proud Mama!  And most Sunday mornings that’s my voice you hear shouting at her to run ‘em all over in her effort to get the goal.

So I have to say I am freaking phenominal!

Really.  I am all that and a cherry pie! 

I have purpose.  I am capable.  I can do it!  ALL OF IT!  And you know what?  I know when to ask for help.  Usually.  BUT! I. Am. Woman.  Hear me.  See me. 

Recently I have been having the chorus of an Alanis Moriessette song run again and again through my head.  While I am really feeling like it describes me on so so many levels, there are times when I embrace the words.  They are in your face. They are subtle.  And while I’m feeling like I am these words, I really feel like they also describe all women out there.

I’m a bitch, I’m a lover
I’m a child, I’m a mother
I’m a sinner, I’m a saint
I do not feel, ashamed
I’m your hell, I’m your dream
I’m nothin’ in between
You know, you wouldn’t want it any other way!

Thanks Alanis!