Well, That Clears That Up...

Yesterday was a terrible day. Not in the usual "BD's a douche and I'm hormonal and tired and broke and nothing ever goes my way and hey! where are you going?" kind of way, but in a "Spectacularly screwing up my blog to the point of deleting it, trying it out on another platform, and failing" kind of way. There was a point where I actually got a little sick to my stomach thinking that I had completely lost my  blog.

After finally reinstating Toquegirlworld right here, in all its' obsolete glory (this template is no longer, and is very difficult to find again once you have stupidly gotten rid of it and totally can't find the HTML code from it that is saved somwhere on your computer),  I will never again question whether or not I am wasting my time writing here.  And I have suddenly become obsessive about backing my shit up.

 I had spent so much time in front of this screen during the day that all I could see when I closed my eyes to sleep that night was a burning white rectangle. Which prompted me to announce, via my Facebook status, that today would be a "screen-free day". Which totally didn't happen. The first thing I did this morning was check my Blackberry to see if anyone had commented on the status I had posted. Self defeating much?

Which brings me to the point of this post: to turn the mirror back to y'all.

I just want to know two things;

1. for those of you who blog - what is your motivation? Why do you do that thing that you do? And how would you deal if it were suddenly gone?

2. for all y'all - do you think it's even possible to have a screen-free day anymore? And I'm talkin all screens here. Smartphones included.

Well, maybe it's three things. But it's still in two-question form. Kind of.

This Post is Just a Vehicle for Pictures of My Kid

Autumn, while sometimes spectacular around these parts, can often be a little cold and drab.

It makes it a little difficult to get off the computer and get outside, especially when dressing Captain Chaos for inclement weather is a full-on Battle Royale that can take upwards of half an hour. Hell, just getting pants on him has been my undoing some days.



He prefers surfing nekkid...ish.

 Today, however, Chaos was clearly interested in getting out. I, too, was climbling the walls.

After reading this post  from Lindsey at A Crunchy Life, I was inspired. Let the battle begin! Soon, I had wrestled the little man into three layers of clothing and we were off!

He starts squealing every time we roll up to his playground.

Let the wild rumpus begin!

Up the stairs....

Across the bridge

Back again

And down the slide

Up the slide

And down the stairs

And down the slide

Again!

There are some playground concepts he's still a little unclear on.

I'm sure I rocked this very same look in 1993 - with parade boots instead of Robeez.

Then he saw these stairs, which heretofore had not been climbed.

He's nothing if not determined.

Playground (and staircase) conquered and Chaos corralled, we settled in for a nice nip and a stroll through the hood.

I took pitchers

Late bloomers

Even on the gloomiest of days it's pretty around here.

Home sweet home.

Layers are shed,

And Chaos is off on another adventure.

Bert?

3:30pm - Chaos FINALLY tires of crashing around in his crib, falls asleep.

4:30pm - I finally tire of trying to get blood from a stone (i.e. doing my finances), start getting my sh*t together for supper.

5pm - Dinner is in the pot! And baby is still sleeping! OMG I am so going to pluck my eyebrows! ( As if it's some wicked, delightfully sinful indulgence..)

I rush downstairs to perform said wicked, sinful act. On the way past the washer and dryer, though, I happen to notice that the dryer has stopped.

Better check.

Alright! Grandma's clothes are dry!

Transfer grandma's clothes from dryer to basket. Transfer Chaos' clothes from washer to dryer. Start dryer.

Well hell - that leaves an empty washing machine. Do I want to throw another load of tiny, scuffed pants and fruit - stained t-shirts in? YOU BET YOUR ASS I DO!! Yeehaw!!  Pshew Phsew! ( that's the noise I make when I fire my imaginary six-shooters in the air. In case you wanted to know.)

Hit "fill" on washing machine. Add soap.

I'm one of those people who has to wait till the machine has filled and started agitating before I put my clothes in. It's a hangover from my misspent college days. Many was the time when I would curse as I pulled my clothes from a laundromat washer, only to find them covered in undissolved powdered soap, thereby forcing me to spend much-needed beer money re-washing them all.

Anyway...while waiting for the washer to start agaiting, may as well check my reader.

You guessed it - while I'm wasting time online, washer goes through half a cycle.

Finally! Clothes are in. And baby slumbers yet! I grab my tweezers and the baby monitor and make a beeline for the washroom.

Just as I put metal to brow, the monitor jumps.

WAAAHHHHH!!!!!!

Oh well. Next time.

Wordless Wednesday...

Am I Missing Something?

I put my son down for a nap this morning and instead of doing something constructive, I opened up my  reader and started getting lost. It's a bad habit. I'm sure you can relate.

At some point during my aimless wanderings, I invariably end up reading about "copy" writing. I don't even know what this is, but it always intrigues me, because I think  "Holy shit! Writing to make money? That's what I want to do!"

I'm always disappointed, because it's always about advertising. Maybe if I hadn't smoked most of twenties away, I would remember that when I get on the 'puter and start surfing around. Maybe I should just google the damn word and stop being such a dumbass about the whole thing. I mean shit - I am at least intelligent enough to realize that, if there was an easy way to make money writing on the interweb, everyone would be doing it.

I'm getting a little off topic, though.

I keep coming across this "hard sell" shit and it's a little tough to swallow, but today was the worst. I read that blogging is "mainly a for - profit enterprise" - "otherwise, why do it at all?" and that it is also a popularity contest. I need a brand? I'm selling something? To a "target"?

WTF??

What the f*ck am I selling? Myself? My child?

And if I'm not, am I just wasting time?

I started this blog as a space for myself, to explore a new avenue of writing, to keep people who know me in the loop, and hopefully, to find a little bit of community out there who may be able to give me some pointers, or at least enocuragement, in this whole new "mom" thing. I mean, I don't have a whole ton of friends with kids, and my mom isn't around to give me advice anymore, so I figured "what the hell?"

Now I do it because I enjoy it. I like seeing my words on screen. I like having a little impetus to write. I like constantly challenging myself to write better. I like seeing what's out there, and I love getting feedback. I love that people out there are reading this blog because they enjoy it.

But those nagging questions remain:

Am I wasting my time?

Am I missing something?

A Deep Breath Before the Plunge

I grew up swimming in cold, clear lakes, rivers, and creeks in the mountains; glacial runoff that never seemed that far removed from the ice it had once been.

During long, hot summers at grandma's place, we cooled off by splashing in the murky waters of the dammed - up  Saskatchewan river.

On epic canoe trips, the icy waters of Northern Shield lakes served as both pool and bathtub.

On the Coast, the cool salt embrace of the north Pacific lures me and I cannot resist the call.

I love the water, and I know the only way in to our frigid Canadian birthright is headfirst, or feetfirst, fully committed.

I know the deep breath before the plunge.

I am well into my third trimester now; Chaos will soon have a little brother, and I will have two boys under 18 months old. I'm on my own, broke, and terrified at the thought of the sheer amount of energy it is going to take to keep it all together.

I am up to my waist in glacier water, trying to gather the courage to just dive in.

There are going to be days in the months ahead when I cannot conceive of getting out of bed, or off the floor. Days when I'm feeling alone. Days when I don't know how I'm going to make it.

I am concentrating on that headache-y moment when I first go under. The cold stealing the breath from my lungs.

I am forgetting what happens after the splash subsides and the water calms, and I'm floating cool and refreshed and relaxed. The feeling of weightlessness, of being held aloft by something other than myself.

After the deep breath, after the plunge, the joy of swimming. The exhilaration of opening up, challenging myself to go further, faster, and be better than ever. The feeling of accomplishment, seeing how far I've gone and how well I've done. The satisfaction of overcoming the fear of deep water, of the unknown.

I know that, for the rest of my life, I am going to be blessed with two wonderful boys, who will grow into two amazing people. I know the challenges will be there, and boy howdy do I know the next year especially is going to be tough. But I am surrounded by a loving, supportive family. I have a job that takes really, really good care of me. I am blessed with the most awesome friends a girl could hope for. And, I have an astounding will. ( I come from a long line of stubborn women. Just ask my grandma.)

In these closing weeks of my pregnancy, life has slowed. Yoga, long naps with the baby, and enjoying as much time with Chaos as possible are my main focus on days when I don't work. I'm sewing cloth diapers to soothe the nesting beast and at least partly calm my financial panic.

I need to remember that it will all work out.

I will be taking many deep breaths before this, the biggest plunge of my life.