Archive | April 2012

Not appropriate

In one week:  I let a big pan of boiling water evaporate on the stove – while I was in the living room on my computer.  The smoke detector went off and I was like why the hell is that going off?!  I left my hiking boots at the gym (wore my runners home), and last night as I was getting ready to go out and chatting with my girlfriend who had come over to babysit, I put the my wine glass in the microwave and a glass of milk on the kitchen counter.  Then I thought wandered about the house looking for my wine for a full 5 minutes before I realized what I had done. For the daughter of a dementia patient, this is so not appropriate.  Putting things in inappropriate places.  Not cool.  It’s one thing forgetting to pick up one item at the grocery store cause you are not using a list and another to put a glass of wine in the microwave, set it for 29 seconds, and then wonder where the hell your wine went.  True, the kid was chatting, she was chatting, I was trying to make sure his stuff was in order for bedtime and I was getting my boots, purse and what not, but omigosh!  Am I that tired?  I haven’t even finished reading that perimenopausal book yet!  I started taking B6-b12 vitamins and of course, my face starts getting bumpy.  I had that reaction when I was getting B12 shots years ago from the naturopath, so I had to stop.

What do I do?

Anyway, we went out for a company dinner last night.  It was so much fun.  Ah, yes, the wine was flowing and the food was delicious!  I love business dinners. Yes, it’s true, I love to socialize.   And these guys are actually fun to talk to.   It wasn’t all  just business talk.  Somehow the wives and I ended up talking a bit about open adoption – you know, the whole oh, weren’t you worried she’d try to take him back later and all that.  Yada, yada, yada, being the bridge for my son and all that.  Of course, they think I’m a friggin’ saint.  I’m not of course, I’m just your typically flawed human being with strong tendencies of self slander and quiet rage. Then mercifully, a  change of topic and by the time dessert was over, I was pleasantly buzzed and I took a cab home.  Hubby stayed out with his colleagues, but I had to get home, relieve my friend and do a little research for my audition today.

Yes, I have another audition which requires crazy hair and makeup and I still have to get socks and shoes on the kid, walk the dog and drop him downtown.  In an hour.  Bye.

The other woman

I signed the Precious up for a gymnastics class for toddlers.  The music class I had him in over the winter was fun for him, I knew he’d appreciate running around and bouncing a lot more. So we’ve been a few times and he loves the bouncy floor and trampoline, he’s learning new coordination skills and more importantly, he’s ready for a good nap after lunch.  For a while there, I thought he was pretty much done with napping which scared the living bejeesus out of me.

We were in the ballpit area (there’s a stage like area where there is a pit in the middle filled with giant foam squares and a slide on one side) and I briefly took my eyes off my son to look over the whole gym.  I counted 3 women wearing their tiny babies in carriers while they oversaw their two year olds.  There was also one child in a carrier and one older infant sitting up having a bottle.

Of course, I felt that bit of envy wash over me momentarily.  Mostly Caucasian (well there one woman who was Asian), slim, married, and still had the energy to get tiny infant and toddler ready for this activity.  I am careful as I run around trying to demonstrate things to my son (one off balance move and my already aching back will have me immobile).  Honestly, I’m already cranky as hell, what would I do with another kid right now? Random women still ask if I plan on having another child.  I reply, “Hell, no!  I have my miracle child, I’m good, thanks.” Yet it wasn’t that long ago when I would have loved to have the choice.

I’m really thinking more of the life I assumed I’d have when I was daydreaming at the age of 18. The one where I was married by age 30, starring on a TV series and have children during hiatus and be back on set with a nanny in my dressing room.  Then when I was actually 30, I was wondering if I would ever pay off my student loan and finding the love of my life was still a fantasy. I just wanted to be a working actress; routines and 9-5 jobs held no appeal to me.  It wasn’t easy by any means because I wasn’t one of “those” women who worked all the time.  I wasn’t the one who got the lead.   By 33, I was pretty darn sure that happily ever after thing had passed by me and perhaps Mr. Close Enough would do.  I was never going to be one of “those” women.  You know, happy to be “domesticated”.  Then I fell in love and spent the next several years trying to prove I was worthy of a ring. No wonder I got depressed.   And only then did I feel secure enough to let the thought of actual motherhood enter my head.  By that time, it was too late.  I was never going to be one of “those” women.  Again, I got depressed.

When I discovered Buddhism, I caught a sniff of happiness that I could control, one that wasn’t dependent on getting a gig or getting married or anything that was basically  out of my control.  I felt lighter than I had in a decade.  That first year was amazing and I found a community that uplifted my heart in such a joyful way.  I thought I had it figured out finally.  Until life presented with me 7 years of  “challenges”.   7 years later, I figured out that Buddhism was not about not having any problems but surviving them with your heart and hope intact.

So now when I feel a wash of sadness for not ever being one of “those” women wearing size 4 Lululemons with a baby in a sling and a toddler in tow driving a Volvo through a cute part of town, I remind myself  that I have never been the other woman.  I have just wasted a lot of time wishing I was.  I’ve been so fortunate in my life in so many ways and now I just want to enjoy and improve upon the life I have.  And given the path that I chose, I really don’t have any more time to waste.

A Buddhist goes into a church…

I finally went to a Mummy and Me gathering at the local Baptist church around the corner. We usually have activities to do on Wednesdays, but with the encouragement of a neighbourhood mum I chat with, we went. She’s a really nice lady with a 17 month old who just adores my kid. She is probably bored stiff.  Sometimes we walk together with our kids.  Now I knew about this place for some time, but it being held in a church, I was a little reticent to go.  After all, my husband is a atheist, I’m a Buddhist and the kid is not baptized. Doomed to hell, right?  Of course, the sign out front didn’t see it was a Christian mummy and me group and it could have been a non-denominational group using church space.  Anyways, I told her we’d meet her there to see what it was like.

We were welcomed very warmly by everyone, that was so nice.  It was a small group of mothers and nannies (this being a nanny type of neighbourhood); one 3 year old asked me if I was “taking care” of my kid.  Cute.  We decorated an Easter gift bag; I noted how expensive the trimmings were.  Oooh, sparkly stickly flowers, and slick bunny bags.  Oooh, fancy stuff.  I did not use the God stickers.  Then off to wash our hands for snack time and lo and behold, they had provided free snacks for the kids.  And right before serving them, there was a gratitude prayer with an amen.  Okay, no problem, nothing wrong with an amen.  Goldfish crackers, dried cherries, cheerios, and Easter cupcakes.  I always carry healthy snacks with me but of course, my kid was so excited to have goldfish crackers at 10:30 in the morning.  I cut him half of the cupcake (just to be social) cause the last thing he needs is that much sugar without a decent lunch. Luckily, my kid is not that crazy about sugary snacks, he actually prefers fruit. I was kinda hoping he’d leave it for me, but alas, he ate it. Bugger.

After snack time, it’s story time and song time!  A cute little finger puppet song that told of 4 cute little monkeys being eaten by an alligator.  No survivors!   Lovely little ditty.  I had spotted a Bible stories book being toted around by one of the ladies and yes, guess which story the kids were read?  “Jesus was put on a a cross and then he died”.  Omilowercaseg.  Accurate and to the point.   I was kind of hoping for a story about a little blue bird demonstrating friendship and harmony, but no.  Luckily, my kid was too distracted with playing around and not old enough to ask me what it all meant.  The 3 year old girl interjected with a story of her own about a rocket ship. I smiled but I was truly uncomfortable.

Back when I was still a churchgoer, meaning I went twice a year – at Easter and Christmas, I quite enjoyed the Easter story because Jesus came back and it was the women he spoke to first.  Apparently, the kids weren’t going to get the what happened next until they came back next week though.  We skipped the bowl of chocolate Easter eggs on our way out.

I don’t plan on returning any time soon.  They were very lovely women and it was nice meeting everyone, but it’s not for us.  We have enough activities to do.   It’s funny, I remember going to Sunday school with an Easter basket and really nice clothes on.  I really don’t remember anything other than playing so I suppose the Precious will remember the goldfish crackers.