Holiday Thoughts

Since I have already done all of my "holiday travelling" before my official holiday has begun, one would think there is little to look forward to. Oh how wrong one would be!

Every morning this week, I have climbed out of bed with running list of things to be done before my daycare day begins. Each and every morning, my feet have hit the floor with the mantra "Only four ... three... two...one more morning to go ..."

During my holidays, I hope to wake up early and greet the day with great enthusiasm. But it will be a gift to know the day is my own. What I do, where I go and whether or not I spend the day alone with will be done out of choice. Not obligation.

It is all about the ability to choose.

During my holidays, I hope to accomplish minor feats around the house.

My Second Son has offered to help me kick-start some of these projects this upcoming weekend. We had talked about taking a road trip but I know I'm in a place where I would (finally) rather spend some of that money on our home. I could be wrong, but I think he may be in a place where he may not want to throw his money around either. I would hire someone to help me in a New York Minute but I would rather pay someone I know. So we will put our heads together, he will most likely provide the muscle power, the know how and perhaps the truck (?) to get what we need to do the job set out before us.

There are so many things that could be done around this house. Starting anywhere is better than sitting still. I am ready, willing and able to do something. Finally. My only hope is that the money doesn't run out before my ambition does.

I have an out of town "dinner theatre" date with my sister at the almost-midway-point of my holiday. It is not really a dinner theatre, but we are meeting for supper before a play. So the same thing. We shall eat, drink, visit, laugh and prepare to be entertained.

That will be followed with ONE day committed to appointments. All that is not-holiday-like must fall within that one day. I purposely booked all appointments on that one day, smack dab in the middle of my holiday so I had four uninterrupted days on one end of it, followed by five uncommitted days after that. The purpose for this, is to simulate the feeling of a two-week holiday.

I have absolutely no idea what will transpire after that one day of commitments. It may all depend on the progress that has been made in and around house-projects. If I get on a roll and things are happening, I may want to continue down that path. If I don't, there is always the option of running out to see my mom or take a day of pampering or reading or watching movies. I like those kinds of days. Just not too many in a row.

My Youngest Son has downloaded a computer mystery game which we plan to sit down and "solve" together and hopefully that is a catalyst to some holiday type activities to follow. I would very much like to do something holiday-like with him. I'm not exactly sure what that will be but I am hoping that the hours we spend solving a mystery together will lead us to where we next want to go.

I have friends who I have been neglecting. I hope there are enough days in the week to nurture those friendships. A lunch date? A coffee? A day trip??

I wrote those words and retrieved some gift cards and pamphlets for spa day, sent off an email, a Facebook message and I'm on my way to see how many "points" I have to go towards a hotel on my credit card.

Yup, the holiday thoughts are starting to flow. When I woke up this morning, it was just a trickle of thoughts. At the moment, it feels like the spring thaw.

So many ideas, so little time.

Breathe in. Breathe out. One. Day. At. A. Time.

It won't feel like a holiday if I try to do too much. I'm looking for the Goldilocks Time Zone during my ten days of holidaying. The time zone of "Just Right".

Feeling Empowered

I believe it is not a coincidence that yesterday's post "Openly Grateful" is followed by one titled "Feeling Empowered".

Yesterday is a day I would not want to live day in and day out.

It was full to the brim of all-things-daycare; many-things-household-maintenance added to my regularly scheduled day of children, responsibility and an evening that didn't end until sometime in and around 8:00.

I was interviewed by three families in need of daycare for their soon-to-be one year olds. Two of these interviews took place in the middle of my "full house" daycare day.

Quiet time was interrupted by a window/door guy arriving a half hour before he said he would be here. This would impress my mom greatly. But it disrupted my quiet time rituals and the house was never quiet yesterday. This is usually the death of me.

One final service call that never did take place must trickle over into today's schedule of events. But it was an excuse to stay inside with five energetic children who hadn't been outside to run and play and climb and scream all day.

My email has been a buzz of activity since I actively advertised my opening for an infant. I had to cease all interviews until I found out what transpires after talking with three separate families yesterday.

I have no idea how to handle multiple acceptances. I have not been in this place before. I do not want to have to choose.

It is a very heady experience for me to talk with new parents and "sell myself". It reminds me of why I am here, doing what I am doing.

I even confessed (more than once) to the last family who spoke to me, "I am not all that great"; "I am far from perfect"; "I could be so much better ..." in a (subconscious?) last ditch effort to create a situation so I am not the one who has to choose. Guess what? They are the one family who sent a late night email telling me they really want to bring their daughter to my daycare.

Honesty sells, I guess.

I woke up this morning feeling revived. I received so much positive energy from these interviews. I was overwhelmed by the pending estimate of doors and a window. But suddenly feeling like I have a stable income and can support whatever financial decision must be made.

I had the courage to send off a month's worth of columns, when (just two days ago) I was thinking I should just resign from this writing gig.

I feel encouraged, accepted and even though  "I am not all that great"; "I am far from perfect"; "I could be so much better ...", I am content to feel "I am good enough".

I am in a very good spot in my life right now.

I am where I want to be. I feel safe. I feel grateful. Oh, how grateful I feel! Because I know only too well, that this could all change in a heartbeat.

So just for today, just for now, I am going to revel in feeling "good enough". Because that is just the best I can be.

Openly Grateful

I remember someone once suggesting I silence myself from my openly expressing my gratitude over what I felt grateful for.

Whether it was the weather, the ability to pay my bills or my good fortune over a relatively easy experience with parenthood (my third time around).

I can't remember what my misdemeanor was, but I was advised "Don't jinx yourself" on more than one occasion.

It was six years ago when that phrase resonated within my thoughts enough to write it down. Six years later, it still rings true in my mind.

I think of those who advised me not to jinx myself by not being openly grateful. Is it a coincidence that some of these people are the same people who seem to have a recurring cycle of negative things happening within their life?

I recently ran into one who advised me not to speak openly of my gratitude. We stopped in the middle of the grocery store and the world around us stopped spinning as we each answered the question "How have you been since we last spoke?"

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Her life was a little bit of the "same old dirt, different pile" kind of story. And in a round about way, so was mine.

Since life took us in two different directions, I tried a new career path, didn't like it and returned to where I was happiest. If you look at me now and compare me to the person I was six years ago, one would assume I hadn't changed a bit.

It is amazing what outer appearances do not reveal until you dig a little deeper.

I admit that I do not know the inside scoop of her story either but the feeling I walked away with is that her life is relatively unchanged. Or moreso, her reaction to it.

But do you know what? I have the feeling that she may have thought the same about me.

Do you know what is even better than that? I am so incredibly grateful that the events of the tough years I endured between then and now hasn't jaded me. I am still openly grateful. I believe gratitude is key for me.

Positive words and thoughts beget positive reactions. Maybe not each and every time but if I internalize the negative in a positive way, I don't walk away from a negative experience feeling like it has brought me down. I feel empowered because I have learned something life changing or empathy or simply a reminder that the prescription on my rose colored glasses needs to be updated from time to time.

When I listen to someone who is holding onto a grudge or can't seem to get past a broken heart I understand there is a process that needs to take place. A person needs to feel, live and express their hurt, anger and frustration, before you can get to a place where your heart feels mended enough to take the lesson learned from your personal crisis and be courageous enough to carry on.

I'm grateful that life taught me that answers don't always come easy. But when they do eventually arrive in their own way and in their own time, your heart is so very much happier when you can take the lesson and release the pain.

Easier said than done. I can still feel the pain of my life lessons when I think hard enough. But if I focus on gratitude, the lesson starts to take precedence over the hurt.

You simply cannot lose by being grateful. I tend to want to sing it from the rooftops. Not because I want to brag about my good fortune. I don't. It is just that I tend to believe that I can't attract positive in my life if I am focused on the negative.

I tend to be grateful over little things. Waking up to a predictable little life that basically goes according to plan is one of my life's biggest blessings.

Waking up to a day where I need to work at making things happen to get beyond a particular problem or challenge is hard. Taking those necessary first steps to overcome the issue at hand is even harder.

But do you know what? The moment I take one step in a forward direction, the weight starts to lessen. Even when that step doesn't take me where I need to go, I know that forward in any direction is better than sitting still and becoming paralyzed with the emotion of the moment.

Fear, hurt, anger, heartache, grief, worry, frustration (to name only a few) have the ability to incapacitate me.

Fear is a big one for me. I am quite literally afraid of most things. But the moment I turn on the lights and reveal that there is no monster lurking under my bed after all, I become more empowered.

Turn on the lights. Look under your bed. Take one small step in any direction. Pat yourself on the back for doing hard things. Express gratitude often.

Focus on what is going right. Even if it feels like everything else is going wrong. Be openly grateful for the smallest of things.

Rinse and repeat daily. Do your best. It may not solve everything but if it gets you through one hard minute at a time, it is worth a shot.

Remind me of this in a few months when the sun stops waking me up in the morning, okay?

The Law of Provision Strikes Again

Every time I stick my neck out and tell the "world" (okay, my world is small and I may only tell a few people) just how fortunate I am and how the money end of things has miraculously worked out once again, I think "Uh oh, now the other shoe is going to drop ..."

Each and every one of my little vacations have been subsidized by little miracles, gifts and windfalls. Do I make plans "knowing" this ahead of time or do these little financial boons happen after the fact?

I had so many little financial issues going on when I attended our family reunion a few weekends ago. I felt like I was back in my old daycare days, when every time the phone rang the cash register in my head tallied up the losses verses the gains and subtracted that from the bills.

I really didn't have a shortfall, but I was just low on cash. I was under the mistaken impression that I could subsidize the lack of cash with an ATM cash withdrawal. But there was no ATM on site.

Add to that, the fact that my mom gave me a cheque so I could pay her portion in cash and I was in a bit of a pickle.

Then came the part where I approached my son for a small interim loan to tide me over and he confessed that he was actually just going to ask me the same question.

I sort of knew it would all work out in the end. It was nothing short of a miracle.

I left the house with $90.00 cash in my pocket. I came home with about $88.75. I walked into the weekend owing a rather startling amount on my credit card. I tallied up my chequing account balance at the end of the day and I came out $294 (and change) ahead of the game.

One would think the miracles would have to end, wouldn't they?

Well yesterday, I approached my Middle Son to ask if he was still up to the "road trip" we had mentioned in passing a while ago. I had a "Plan B" for him, just in case a road trip wasn't feasible...

I really, really need to invest some time and money on our house. I have ideas but I don't have the tools, skill, muscle power or stamina to do the job myself. So I made my son an offer. I told him my budget. I explained half that budget would go to the house and the other half would go to him for his labor.

Of course, him being the person he is, he told me he did not want to take my money. I replied that I was going to hire someone to do it and I'd rather pay someone I know.

THEN ... I opened the mailbox. And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a completely unexpected cheque that would almost cover the "labor" portion of the pending house expenses.

[insert happy dance here]

I have also been a tad concerned about the upcoming vacancies within my daycare. At the moment, it is a full house. But my parents must have decided they like this "parenthood gig" because maternity leaves are happening as I type.

One opening had been filled but a last minute transfer at work, has meant this family will be leaving the city. I told myself not to panic. "Things always work out in the end." "Don't worry." "Worrying is a waste of time and energy." "When you are ready, it will come ..."

It hasn't come yet. But yesterday afternoon, the phone rang and who was on the other end of the line but a parent who sounded just as desperate as I was feeling, who needed daycare for her one and three year old children in September. My location is all wrong. There are many variables which didn't make "me" her perfect answer.

But the phone call gave me hope. Talking to her gave me back my voice.

Last week, I was so exhausted and low and depleted that I felt like the worst daycare provider on earth. I wasn't. We just didn't DO things or GO places or do anything out of the ordinary. I could not have "sold" myself to anyone last week.

This week, is a whole different story.

I have rested, revived myself and I am noticing the little miracles which surround me each and every day again.

I have a tentative plan for the first leg of my holidays. The financial end of it seems to be working out.

The "Law of Provision" is ever present in my life. Even when I am depleted, the world does not demand more than I have on tap.

I am grateful. I am amazed.

It will all work out in the end. If it doesn't work out, it is not yet the end ...

Spinning My Wheels Again

Five more daycare days until holidays. One last income tax job to polish up and send on its way. Two sets of columns to be submitted. One more bookkeeping day. Then, it will be holiday time.

Since I've already been places, done things, seen so many people and spent so much money there is little left for me to do.

I don't have a book project to work on. I do have a house project I should start though. Six years of neglect is starting to show.

Where does one begin when the job is so big and so dark and so deep and so tall?

Just like the book project, which preceded the house project, I must simply start.

Starting anywhere ... "is a very good place to start. When you read you begin with A, B, C. When you sing you begin with do, re, mi ..." ~ lyrics from Do-Re-Me, from "The Sound of Music".

At the moment, I have a tab on my browser open to "Getting Started - FlyLady.net". I am starting to feel the way I did when I knew the book had no way to go but "finished".

This house was revived before, it can be done again. I am not so certain the "Law of Provision" will provide me with the funding I seem to think I need. But small miracles always seem to happen once I set myself in a forward direction.

"Clean" costs nothing. "Decluttering" is free. It is that can of paint, the flooring, baseboards, trim. doors and windows that start to add up.

One room. Just one room.

When you houseclean you begin with just one room. Maybe one drawer. The beginning is a very good place to start.

Middle of the Night Thoughts

I woke up at 1:00 a.m. last night and felt rested for the first time in a while.

I decided to wander out of my room to get a drink and one foot had barely hit the carpet when not one, but two black furry felines came to greet me as I did my middle-of-the-night walk about.

It was such a simple thing but I was simply grateful.

Waking up for no reason other than I felt rested. Wandering about the house for no other reason than to appreciate the middle of the night quietness.

I wandered to the computer to check my emails. Nothing of importance there. As much as I love, love, love being on the receiving end of a personal email any time of the day or night, there was something restful about knowing there was no one awaiting a reply.

I've gone to bed between 7 and 8:00 p.m. all week. And slept. And slept some more.

My body wasn't tired but I think my brain was.

I am so grateful I won't have to "waste" my week of holidays catching up on rest, relaxation and sleeping. I have no desire to deplete my resources during my vacation but I most certainly don't want to waste my time catching up.

During this quiet work week of resting and catching up, I keep finding my mind trying to plan something for my holiday.

Maybe a little getaway. Or maybe we should stay close to home.

I should pick a room, any room and paint it, fix it, dejunk it and start anew. Or maybe I should read a book.

I could do something purely frivolous and impulsive, but my need for impulsiveness feels satisfied and full.

I have one week to catch up on all that needs tending before my holiday begins. There is still work to be done. It is hard work trying to make it feel like there is no work to be done. Perhaps that is why I have felt so worn out after the visiting and reunioning of weekends past.

I don't think I have the energy it takes to prepare for a vacation away from home.

But last night, as I wandered through the house feeling rested, relaxed, full and satisfied I thought "It just doesn't get any better than this".

Waking up because you feel rested is a gift. Living in a home where I am never totally alone is comforting. Breathing easy because my life is full and fulfilling fills my heart with gratitude. Even when the house is quiet and empty I never feel alone.

I thought all those comforting thoughts and revelled in how it felt to be "me", then climbed back into bed and drifted off into a state of slumber which carried me through the night and into this morning.

I have a good life. I am so glad I woke up so I could fully appreciate it.

Jet

The only history we have on our newest little cat, Jet, is this:

"Cat was under the hood of a vehicle that had been running. Coat is dirty, debris in ears, retained deciduous maxilary canine. Appears healthy."

That's it. But oh, the stories our new little kitty must have in his past.

He is the friendliest cat I have ever met in my life. He hugs and he literally reaches out and climbs from one set of arms into the next. He reminds me of a small child who is used to being handed off from one set of loving arms, into the next.

Speaking of children, I simply cannot believe the way he is with my daycare family. He runs up to greet everyone as they come in the door in the morning and then he stays and plays.

It doesn't matter what the kids dole out, he is up for it. He hopped into an empty plastic container, then the kids piled toys into it. And started pushing it around the house, with him inside of it. He loved it!

 Yesterday, we brought up a car mat, cars and car ramps. The kids were immediately drawn to the cars. Jet? He was interested in the car mat.

First, he sniffed it out thoroughly and my heart felt a quiet ache for the scent of "Andre" was most likely remained, deep within the fibres of the mat. Then he crawled under it.

Then, a lone little black paw crept out and stole a car from one of the kids.

When he got tired of playing under the mat, he came out and rested on top of the cars the kids had lined up ever-so-carefully.

I've had to child cat proof the kitchen cupboards again, after waking up to our kitchen garbage (which was under the kitchen sink) emptied out and spilled out onto the floor one morning. As I write, he is fighting with that very cupboard door and crying because it won't open any more ...

He loves the great outdoors. He is so unlike any cat we've ever gotten from the SPCA. Every other SPCA cat we have adopted has been so grateful to move out of their cage and into a regular home, that they showed absolutely no interest in ever venturing outside, to be caught and caged, ever again. Not Jet. He loves everything about nature and wide open spaces. 

He watched with amazement, as it rained outside. He was mesmerized by the rain running down the window and the outdoor scene that changed right before his eyes.

He has endeared himself to "Ray", our resident cat who preceded him. They play cat tag, they wrestle and tussle amongst themselves. Ray rarely cries anymore (Jet has moves that Andre never had and Ray had to learn how to free himself from the "mother move", where Jet bites and holds onto the scruff of his neck).

He loves us out loud and is the most untypical cat we've ever had. Life is an "adventure" to this lovable black furball.

I think he snuggled up to the cat fountain at first, because the hum of the fountain emulated a "purr" to him (??)

I'm not so sure why he cozied up to the toilet though. Perhaps, because it reminded him of the fountain, which reminded him of his mother's purr?

Sometimes, the only way you can get my attention is if you sit yourself down right in front of the computer screen. He then proceeded to fall "fast asleep".

It's hard work being a "cat". So after a long day, our newest cat toy nestles in among the blankets in the toy cupboards so he is well rested and ready for his next adventure.

When we went to the SPCA to consider adopting a dog, the last thing in the world I thought we would come home with, was a cat who embodied Andre in so many ways. He has Andre's spirit and then some. He looks and loves like our young, healthy Andre. He has Andre's sense of adventure and zest for life.

But he doesn't have Andre's monster purr. I still miss that purr. But I am so grateful our little "Jet" found us and his way into our hearts and home