February 15th, 2012
Happy Valentine's Day
I know: I am a day late. Valentine’s Day was yesterday. The champagne has been drunk, the chocolates consumed, cards exchanged, romantic evenings concluded.
In my defense, I waited until today to write this post deliberately. I wasn’t really sure what Valentine’s Day held in store for me this year, so I just didn’t know what to say. Here’s my recap:
My Darling Husband, my DH as I typically refer to him, is away on business most weeks from Monday through Friday, sometimes Sunday through Friday. With Valentine’s Day falling on a Tuesday, I was all but certain he would not be home. I envisioned our Valentine’s Day plans encompassing the ritualistic, long-distance, ‘Good morning‘ and ‘Good night‘ daily phone calls, a few “Miss you” texts throughout the day, followed by a be-lated glass of wine and exchange of ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ wishes when he returned at the end of the week. I was wrong. read more »
May 18th, 2010
I wrote the following essay for the BC Council of Families. It was recently published in their magazine, Family Connections, in volume 14, issue 2, Spring 2010. I am reproducing it here, with their permission, because it’s the truth and because, right now, I can’t write anything better to capture my thoughts on divorce.
• • •
An intense rain drummed down from tumultuous, black clouds. My husband and I were arguing again, and it was ugly. His response was flight, mine fight, but he was winning. He quickly reached our garage, car keys in hand, desperate to escape from both storms. I vaguely recall the hum of the electronic garage door inching upwards, focused, as I was, on my desire to not let him go. I was not ready for my marriage to end. Frantic, and with my options limited, I positioned myself bodily between him, now in the driver’s seat of our running SUV, and his escape route. I staked my ground hoping that my stance could convince him of what my pleadings could not: that he needed to stay. A vengeful wind ripped through my hair, long, Medusa-like tentacles encircling my head with the fury of the night while the cold penetrated my clothing. I shivered. Our infant daughter, our Little Miss, was in my arms.
read more »
March 28th, 2010
For those of you just getting to know me, my life as a mother has not always been quite as straight-forward as it now seems. Rather than reinvent the wheel, or in this case re-write it, please read My Guilty Heart, which I published on HybridMom.com in January of 2010, to learn more:
My Guilty Heart
“Ooooooh,” the sales lady coos through her saccharine smile, her doe-eyes, heavily-lined with black eye-liner, glancing expectantly in my direction. It seems a new mother, adorned with all of the divine accoutréments of motherhood—stroller and diaper bag; sweet, milky smell and dark, sleepless eyes; beatific expression and brand new baby girl—is cruising blissfully amongst the aisles, and she has captured our attention. Suddenly the floor-to-ceiling rows of embroidered denim, vintage tee’s and Boho-chic dresses that just moments ago were the critical, final pieces to the puzzle of my new-fall-wardrobe, feel constricting and claustrophobic and there is a very real danger that I just might suffocate. read more »