Tag Archives: Love

Hurry up, it’s time to watch Star Wars.

8 Aug

Do not worry, I am alive. All is well here in Canadaland. In fact, more than well. I have my B back!

And I have precisely “2 and 5-half minutes” to type this post, as B is watching the clock… We have Star Wars: Attack of the Clones to finish watching. By the way, the guy who plays Anakin Skywalker almost ruins the movie for me every time we watch it. Seriously, I think they could have done better. It’s painful.

“1 and 3-half minutes left, Momma.”

We’ve been busy enjoying the beautiful summer weather, cuddling, fighting crime as Thor and Iron Man and playing Wii. Every time I have attempted to grab some time for myself to write, B grabs my right arm and refuses to give it back. That being said, he is still craving my attention and I couldn’t be happier to give it to him. I have to get whatever time I can with him, because I won’t always be the coolest person to hang with… Imagine that?!?


I hope everyone is enjoying August so far. I sure am!

Happy Wednesday Balls, from me and B!


A wagon ride at the Ice Cream Festival @ Westfield Heritage Village. (He enjoyed the free ice cream. I cursed my allergy.)

Why July Sucks Balls.

11 Jul

Did you know July is my favorite month? Well, it is and has been for years. I love everything about July. The weather, the festivals, the fresh produce, the holiday! How could a month that starts with fireworks be anything but extraordinary!?


Well, I’ll tell you.


I had all these hopes and dreams for July. I was going to have my favorite month all to myself. I was to be on a vacation from motherhood. Tanning, reading, eating what I wanted, sleeping nude, cooking nude, having crazy sex anywhere at anytime with T. This month was going to be peaceful and relaxing and free! I would have no responsibilities, nothing pulling me away from writing, this was to be “The Month of Cards”! But unfortunately, this month did not live up to the hype I created in my head.

I find myself too sad to write anything funny. I feel so lonely that I find myself doing absolutely nothing, just waiting for T to come home. I have no motivation to even enjoy the beautiful weather and have tanned all of 1 hour this week. I downloaded my book so I could listen to it because I feel too depressed to read. The plants in my garden are withering away because B would always water them with me in the mornings and evenings. And this morning, well, this morning I had a bit of a melt down.

I cooked bacon and eggs for breakfast. I dished up 2 plates and set them on the table. I called out, “Buggy! Breakfast!” and then silence. B is gone. I sat down looking at my plate, and then to B’s empty seat beside mine. I sobbed into my bacon.

How does one enjoy life without the key ingredient to joy?

I never realized how BIG of a part this little man played in my life. I love him, I enjoy his company, he’s my son. But it’s so much more. Maybe it’s unhealthy, maybe this is normal. Whatever it is, I’ve at least learned something.

I will never take my time with him for granted. Perhaps I haven’t truly been appreciative of my son and all he adds to my life. He’s just always been there, like the sun and moon and stars. I never had to imagine a world without him, because he was always with me.


July Sucks Balls. I didn’t want a learning experience and I didn’t want to search myself and realize I’ve been taking my son for granted. Looking hard into oneself is not relaxing, in fact it’s uncomfortable and sometimes ugly.


I guess I should probably do a bit more growing and thank July for sucking balls. Because it’s made me a better mother, and at least for that, I am truly grateful.


Dear July 2012,

I have thoroughly searched myself and I feel I have grown as an individual and a mother. Now, can I please have some fun?


Your biggest admirer,


Seek out little pleasures, to obtain happiness you must.

5 Jul

Today is the first day without my bug. It started rather early when T’s alarm sounded for him to wake. I had every intention of falling right back asleep and taking full advantage of the morning silence.

I couldn’t.

I tried and tried. Tossed and turned, fluffed my pillows, sprawled out in the center of the bed….

Sleep did not come to me. All that came to me was a frown and the urge to climb into my little boy’s bed.

I fought this urge for a while, but the longing to smell the scent of my little guy was far too strong to resist. I made my way to his bed.

I laid there. Then, out of nowhere, I felt warm wet liquid on the sides of my face, my nose started running. What? No Lacey. Stop.

Yeah, I wept. I didn’t cry. I wept. These were tears of sorrow. Everything inside me wanted my little boy home in his bed.

Seriously, what is my problem? This is supposed to be a relaxing, month-long break from motherhood. I am supposed to be drinking a mimosa with breakfast, basking in the hot summer sunlight, reading books and foremost, SLEEPING. I miss sleeping so much. And yet, here I am. In my son’s bed, weeping on his pillow and longing to touch his cute flushed cheeks as he sleeps.

Oh how precious he looks when he sleeps…. My heart is cracking.


I finally got a grip on myself and decided to find a distraction. I put on some obnoxiously loud music and started cleaning. It was 7:55am and I was cleaning. SERIOUSLY LACE! YOU ARE PATHETIC.

I cleaned furiously. I sang loudly. I cried intermittently. I brewed a pot of Starbucks French Roast.

I went around scrubbing this, sweeping up that, putting away dishes, throwing laundry around all the while a perma-scowl invaded my should-be peaceful face. Boo. This month is gonna suck balls. Why did I think this month was going to be the best month of the year? I was utterly mistaken.

But as I pouted, the smell of my favorite Starbucks roast took over the house as I cleaned. I started taking deep breaths, drinking in the aroma. Mmm…time for a coffee break I thought. I took my coffee to the living room and started sipping. I continued to smell the beautiful dark roast glory, tasting the righteous nectar of the Caffeine Gods with each long and leisurely drink.


Wait a minute. This coffee is still hot and I’ve almost finished the cup. I smiled. I put my cup down on THE SEAT CUSHION of the couch. I got up to check the quiche in the oven. I came back, the cup hadn’t spilled. I picked it up, drank it. The last sip was still hot and filled with victory!


I miss my son and my heart is cracked. But my scowl is gone and I am on my third (uninterrupted) cup of Starbucks.


So it might be small but I have found something worth enjoying out of this whole separation.




I’m hoping to find more little pleasures to enjoy in order to mask the sorrow of the biggest thing I enjoy being absent.


***I hope all my American friends enjoyed their Day of Independence yesterday. Mine was a mixed bag of balls, but the fireworks at Niagara Falls were breathtaking.***



2 May

I’ve written this post several times over but I struggle each time because our history is ugly. Leah and I didn’t have much of a relationship growing up. We lived in the same house and for several years, the same room. We were sisters by blood but that’s as far as the connection went for most of my life. I don’t want this post to bash my sister, that’s not why I am writing it. As an adult I have been able to look back and reflect on Leah’s early years, and gain perspective as to why she hated me (turns out she didn’t really hate me, she didn’t like herself and had a lot of inner pain). And because of my ability to remove myself from the equation and focus on understanding the bigger picture, I’ve been able to release myself of all ill feelings and resentment towards Leah.

Leah experienced feelings of rejection as a little girl. My parents separated and our dad disappeared for a while. Leah was left with feelings of abandonment and although she was only 2 when it took place, she remembers it in detail. As a 2-year-old you perceive things quite differently. Those feelings never changed as Leah grew older. And although my parents had reconciled and to this day maintain a beautiful and healthy relationship, she held on to old feelings formed in an undeveloped mind  that belonged to a little girl. Those feelings had an unhealthy effect on her relationship with our dad, as well as with myself.

Soon after my parents reconciled and started working on their relationship, I was conceived. Leah was 4 when I was born and she took to the big sister role quite well. She did however struggle with sharing the attention of our parents. For a while it had been just Leah and our mom, and she had just got her dad back when I popped out. That was difficult for her, but the real issue came around when I was able to talk and assert myself.  Around the age of 4 or 5 I no longer took orders and had my own ideas and opinions. When I was 1 my brother Bryan was born and he became my BFF. I no longer needed Leah as a playmate and it appealed to me that I didn’t have to do whatever she told me, in order to have a friend in her. I had an equal now in Bryan, and Leah soon withdrew from my life.

Another factor was age. Leah is 4 years older than me and for developing children that’s huge. We didn’t relate much. We were always in different stages, with different interests. She was into modelling and performing, I was super shy and reserved (weird right?) I liked barbies, she hated them. In fact, she liked to shave their heads and shove them under my dresser leaving the feet sticking out, so I could see them but not get them out. Leah did some cruel things and never let me forget her dislike of me. Often she would pinch me hard and not fess up when I cried, or threaten me over telling on her for anything she had done that was mean or wrong.

Honestly, I just wanted her to like me and love me. I’m not saying I never did anything mean back, or annoyed her or even provoked her. We were kids after all. And I knew we would never be best friends, but I wanted a sister. I longed for a sister I could confide in and get advice from. That never happened. I remember a time when our arguing and Leah’s cruelty had reached an all time high. Our parents were fed up and handcuffed us together in a room. They had hoped we would resolve whatever the issue was and even though I tried to talk it out, Leah wouldn’t listen. She told me that she was going to hug me and pretend like everything was good so she could get away from me. And she did, and it worked.

When I was 7 I sang a song to her that I had worked really hard on. The song was “Love Can Build a Bridge” by The Judds and I am pretty sure I cried while singing it to her. I thought that by singing, which she loved to do, we could relate to each other and try to be nice to one another. I remember Leah hugged me and said how much she loved me and liked the song. That moment stuck with me and to this day brings tears to my eyes. I let her know how badly I wanted to be close to her, I let her know of how some kids were making fun of me for being so small. I thought we could find something to relate to as she struggled with her body image as well. And briefly we did connect and it felt nice. But all that disappeared once I got sick.

My health declined rather quickly soon there after and I was in and out of doctors offices and hospitals. I began taking of a lot of my parents time and attention due to the muscle disorder and Leah needed more from them. She resented me for this. She knew it was nothing I was in control of but instead of being supportive and sympathetic she retaliated by telling me ” You’re faking” “You’re a liar” and “I hate you”. I now know that at that time Leah was dealing with he rown emotional pain and adolescent challenges. She was being bullied at school, feeling a lot of insecurities over her body, struggling to keep friends and loathing being poor. I became the target for her anger with life. Of course then I didn’t know what was taking place in her life and internalized all the mean things she would say and do. I was in physically pain, struggling with my own losses and fears and all I wanted was a loving sister. This continued into our teen years.

When I was 15 I had become even more sick. Leah had been living away from home since she was 16 (early to college then a banking career) but returned home when she lost her job after 9/11. I begrudgingly shared a room with her and tried to forget she was there, as well as the mess she left in her wake (the mess will always travel behind Leah…). It had been 3 years since spending time with Leah and she didn’t know the magnitude of what my disordered had done to my body or my life. Soon after returning home, Leah witnessed one of the scariest experiences I’ve ever had with my muscle disorder.

I got into a bath to calm the spasms that were taking over my legs. The pain was excruciating and none of the meds I had taken were working. After a bit of a soak in the bath my breathing began to grow weak. I started struggling to keep conscious and it took all the air in my lungs to cry out for help. My memory of this experiences is shadowed with intermittent consciousness, but I know my mom pulled me out of the bath and wrapped a towel around me. They brought me to the living room and laid me on the floor. I remember gasping for air but it felt like none of the oxygen was getting in. I remember opening my eyes just slightly, seeing my father over top of me, and my mom and sister at my feet. I blacked out. I stopped breathing for several minutes and my dad began rescue breaths until the paramedics showed up. I regained consciousness shortly before they arrived, but I couldn’t move. My breathing was shallow and my legs were paralyzed. This episode ended in an ambulance ride to the emergency room, blood work, medication evaluation, and an extended stay in the hospital.

Now, I wasn’t searching for sympathy but I did think that by Leah witnessing that, she would show a bit more compassion toward me and maybe believe me about my disorder. She couldn’t still think after all these years that I was faking it? Nothing changed though. Everyone in my family came by to offer their best at cheering me up but it wasn’t until a couple of days later that Leah appeared. I was happy to see her but was soon disappointed when I realized she wasn’t there for me, she was there to talk to my mom about her job and something good that had happened for her. She left without saying anything more than hello to me. I discussed with my mom how hurt I was, and she was sympathetic. I said that I thought I needed therapy because this thing with Leah hurt so badly. I don’t want to always feel like this when she comes around.

After the hospital stay I sought counseling for a number of issues and gained a lot of knowledge and perspective. After a few weeks of talking it out, I was in a better place emotionally. My counselor urged me to write a letter to Leah about my feelings towards her, specific memories that pained me, and more importantly, letting go of what I longed to have with Leah, a friendship. Leah was unsafe for me. It was the unattainable dream and only brought me pain when I would seek it. I had to let her go, in order to heal and move forward. I never gave the letter to Leah because it wasn’t actually for her. It was for me. I started over with Leah like she was someone I just met. I treated her as an acquaintance. I was cordial and never talked about anything other than surface. She was unsafe for me at that time and for my heart and well-being I had to keep her at an arm’s length. We went on for several years like this and I began to feel better in regards to Leah. I had essentially mourned the loss of a close sisterly relationship, and replaced it with something different. We still had our spats but generally, this new approach to a relationship went well. I lowered my expectations of her so I wouldn’t be let down, therefore, rarely became angry or disappointed. I know that sounds terrible, but it’s true and it’s what I had to do to be in contact with Leah.

When I was 17 a shift happened. I don’t know exactly why it did, but I do know that as things got better in Leah and our dad’s relationship, things seemed to improve within our relationship. I’m not a psychologist but I believe that as she addressed old feelings of rejection from our dad, as well as her own insecurities as a child/teen, she was able to evaluate the driving force behind the cruelty she exhibited towards me. Leah began to make changes and apologized several times. I don’t know how many times, but I think she knew she would have to say it a lot. She was determined to make sure I knew how sincere she was each time she did so too.

The more effort Leah made, the more I would open up for her. I did however remain guarded but I kept an open mind and didn’t allow any hiccups to discourage me as we rebuilt. Over time, Leah and I established a new relationship. It took a lot of effort on her part to win me over again and through the course of a couple of years (and a lot of ups and downs) we’ve arrived at a good place.


We didn’t have a great start as being sisters. We don’t have good childhood memories together to look back on with fondness. We missed out on a lot of years together. We built walls and burned bridges.

But made ourselves a second chance and we have a lot to be proud of. We worked through difficult feelings towards each other. We learned from the mistakes we made as children, teens and young adults in regards to one another. We tore down the walls and rebuilt the bridges to make new memories. In the process of rebuilding, we formed a healthy relationship and discovered appreciation for one another. We accept each other for the unique individuals that we both are. Instead of beating each other up, we offer words of encouragement. We support one another in life and give all we can to one another without any conditions.We are who we are, and we are beautiful sisters.

If I had to choose to have you as a  loving young sister or a loving adult sister, I choose the adult sister hands down. I used to mourn not having you near when we were kids. I used to think that I missed out on this huge thing, but ya know what? You can give me a heck of a lot more support and love now, than you ever could have been capable of then. And you do Leah. I no longer look back and feel pain or sadness over our relationship, but I use it as a marker to see how far we have come.

I know our relationship is not perfect, and we’ll always have to work harder to maintain it than we do with other family members. I know we’ll always need to err on the cautious side when confronting an issue and take extra care as to not wound one another. Because although we have moved forward, we still have scars, and our relationship will always need to be nurtured.

I am grateful for the opportunity to be a part of your adult life. I am blessed to be your friend and happy to see you blossoming as you move into your 30’s. You are a wonderful mom and a great wife, you are simply outstanding! Besides being awesome moms and wives, we have few things in common. In fact, we couldn’t be more opposite but I think that makes things exciting. I am proud of you for everything you have accomplished in your life, as well as all the effort you have made to mend my heart and our relationship. I love you Leah. Thank you for being the sister I always wanted. And thanks for loving me for me.



Love-in Italy Part 2

16 Apr

Florence. Aaaahh… SO beautiful! I could have stayed months there, no, I could have stayed the rest of my life there. And I wanted to stay there with L. First thing was first, find a place to sleep. L didn’t make reservations which was kind of our first argument. There we were, 9pm after a very long train ride, dragging our luggage up and down streets, searching the city for a place to stay. We went into a ritzy hotel, me rolling my eyes at L knowing we can’t afford it. We inquired of the price and of course, I was correct. When we asked for cheaper recommendations nearby the man said wait here a minute. We looked at each other a bit confused,  but we waited. A couple of minutes later he returned and said, “Follow me.” We followed hesitantly into the dark alley across from the hotel, through a door bigger than any door I have ever seen, and into an elevator right out of a 1930’s movie. There was barely enough room for us 3 to fit in it, and I swore if we would have jumped, it would have plummeted. But neither L or the desk clerk would jump with me, so we’ll never know if I was right…. “It look older than it is.” says the clerk in a condescending tone. Riiiiiight, then jump I say! I am so right.

The room was amazing! It was 2 stories, with a spiral staircase right in the center sitting room leading up a room with 2 king size beds. The bathroom had heated floors, heated towel racks and even a bidet!!! There was a balcony overlooking the whole city and I could see the Duomo, fully illuminated and majestic! We got this amazing room for the low price of 60 Euro! Can you believe that? We were under budget. So all that irritation with L slowly melted away, as L and I snuggled up and watched the city come to life.

I could not wait to celebrate my 18th year with adventure! Now, something about L and I that differs greatly that I learned on this trip was that we both view “adventure” differently. I also learned that we have different interests when it comes to exploring and sightseeing. I like culture, history, architecture, and a bit of chaos. He preferred safe, leisure, and semi-Americanized surroundings. Hehehe, this made for an uncomfortable time for him, as I won. It was my birthday.

We first headed out in the pouring rain. Yes, pouring. We were drenched in seconds and I knew from that moment this day would be AWESOME. L however, was not impressed with my dancing about “catching your death of cold in Florence, on your pretend birthday” and soon found us both sweatshirts and umbrellas from a street vendor. Fine, fine. I complied. But then I was off. The city was abuzz and the word was that the San Lorenzo Market was going on several blocks away, in a direction pointed by someone who apparently had no sense of direction. We wandered in the rain, ducking in and out of quaint but far-too-expensive stores, tons of bakeries (oh wow, gained 3 pounds), and espresso shops (peed a lot). We went about 12 blocks in the wrong direction until another tourist pointed us in the right direction. Thanks out-of-towner! Grabbed some of the best pizza ever, and went on our way, the other way.

The market was huge and packed full of people. I bought a bunch of stuff I didn’t need and labeled them as “souvenirs” with little intention of actually giving them to the intended people. We walked through rows after rows of hand crafted gems, ate more food (well I did) and the rain never let up for a minute. When we were done with the market, we made our way to see the older parts of town.

This is where I would post amazing pictures but, my camera was in fact stolen out of my bag on our return trip… so, no photos. The city of Florence is so rich in history and beauty, we barely even scratched the surface of discovery. We did however see the most beautiful cathedrals, several neat statues including David, and a few landmarks like the Uffizi Gallery and the Ponte Vecchio bridge! My favorite site was the Basilica of Santa Croce, it was breathtaking. Up close you could see the craftsmanship and I was in awe the whole time. I didn’t want to leave its steps but my stomach told me otherwise. Dinner time!

Finding a restaurant was challenging. Not for the lack of restaurants but because L wanted a menu he could read. I was more willing to take a gamble. So we settled on a place with an English menu and an Italian one. He ordered right away, I pondered over Italian words, trying to think of what Giada would order. I went with something that sounded rustic and pretty, it didn’t disappoint! We ate in true Italian fashion, slowly, with strangers and buckets of wine. I guess this is the thing to do here. Dinner was delicious and the company was entertaining. 3 hours later, on to birthday drinks.

We wandered about some more, in the general direction of our hotel. Not long after the search was over. We came across an Irish pub called “The Dublin Pub” and ducked in as it seemed like the hot spot in the area. Talk about fun! People from all over the world were in that pub. We made some Aussie friends, Irish Friends, English Friends, a couple American ones too! No Italian though… Strange. Shortly a contest was in full swing. L didn’t believe my drinking abilities and neither did a couple Aussies, and so it was on. Long story short, I won. I had about 10 shots, 2 foreign concoctions, and a couple Redbulls. L was done after 6 beers. After the high-fives went around the pub and a couple of hugs from drunk strangers, we staggered back to our hotel room. Or did we? OK, we got lost. Really lost. It was around 2am and we had no clue where we were. We went in circles for over an hour trying to find our hotel. Just when all hope was about to be lost, and we were going to settle for the sidewalk, we see our special little alley way…. Literally next to the Dublin Pub. Oy Vey. Really???? We crashed as soon as our heads hit our pillows. Good night Florence.

The morning came quick and so did the hangover for me. We packed up, grabbed some yummy confections at the bakery on the corner and went to catch our train. Those 2 days were unforgettable and far too short. I loved every moment of that trip. L was a great companion there, and we sure learned a lot about our differences. But ya know what? I didn’t mind that we were so different. I felt that we made a good team and that we brought balance to each other in our extreme areas. Our humour really clicked when it came to having fun and being silly, which has always been a big thing for me in relationships. I could be myself with him, and that was nice.

I only stayed a couple more days with L in Aviano. We went for a few drives and romantic walks, on a few shopping trips and ate at some unique cafes. I took tons of pictures, that of course I can’t show you but at least I have my memories. And those will never be stolen. Well, until I grow old and senile of course.

Saying goodbye to L was hard. I was teary-eyed and he took it rough as well. He even inquired about me staying until he was set to leave Italy, but it just wasn’t affordable. So we hugged and kissed and kissed some more, and I was off.

Farewell L, Farewell Italy.

Hello Mountain Home AFB, again…

I’m ready. Are you?

11 Apr

HELLO FRIENDS, FAMILY, AND RANDOM STRANGERS (who came here cuz I tagged balls again)!

I am preparing to take my *blog* off of the back burner and set it on the front burner…on high setting. Hmm, feels a bit like a failed analogy. Oh well. Moving on.

My current hand has been a constant challenge since my last post in September, but I’ve finally got a handle on it now. I haven’t conquered it but I have found ways to manage it and be enlightened by it. I have been so blessed with the support of my parents, husband, my in-laws and my bestie… Without them I don’t know how I would have managed. Probably poorly, so thanks!

There are two sayings that have repeatedly encouraged me to continue moving forward and I’d like to share those with you now.

1. If God brings you to it, he will bring you through it.

2. God, give us grace to accept with serenity
the things that cannot be changed,
Courage to change the things
which should be changed,
and the Wisdom to distinguish
the one from the other.
Living one day at a time,
Enjoying one moment at a time,
Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace,
Taking, as Jesus did,
This sinful world as it is,
Not as I would have it,
Trusting that You will make all things right,
If I surrender to Your will,
So that I may be reasonably happy in this life,
And supremely happy with You forever in the next.

The first one I found written on a cute little woven picture, at the dollar store (SCORE). I hung it in our living room, right where I can see it throughout the day. When I would lose focus of my hopes and felt so defeated, I would stare at that picture and find renewed faith in my life and hope for eventual change and healing. Nothing is ever impossible when God is with you.

The second one is called “The Serenity Prayer” and is widely known for being the prayer (condensed by a mile though) said at AA Meetings and other 12-step programs alike. Although I’ve never been to or needed an AA Meeting, I’ve always admired this prayer growing up. It used to comfort me and help me gain perspective. It always has a calming effect when I say it aloud. So, I thought of it often and prayed it during meditation and it seemed to help set my mind in the right mental path for the day.

Over the past eight months I have come to a couple realizations and have been changing myself as I went along, and some will be implemented shortly. I’ll share a few with you.

  •  God’s grace is the most amazing gift you can show to someone. When you give grace to another human, true grace and forgiveness, it not only comforts and aids the other person, but it opens the doors for spiritual growth. I’ve been able to show this kind of grace and forgiveness, and let me tell you, I am better for it. I know when people think of me, they don’t think of grace. I can be cut-throat-brutally-honest…but it’s always from a place of love. I think they all know that and appreciate it. BUT in this certain case, I dropped the hard edge and picked up God’s love. It was in fact the hardest thing I’ve ever done and I am striving daily to continue doing it. “Graceless Lace” will be a thing of the past, unless of course by special request. I’ll still make myself available for those who desire a good verbal kick in the tush, with love, of course.
  • I have an addiction to computer games, baking, food and Facebook.
  1. I have given up all computer games and have vowed to keep my gaming strictly “tabletop”.
  2. I have to continue eating and baking, such a drag I can’t just cut that out. But I have found a healthy alternative to what I had been doing. I’ve started a Clean Eating Diet and will be slowly transitioning into a mostly vegan lifestyle. I will continue to bake/cook for my friends and family who love, appreciate and request my talents, but no longer will I come up with excuses to make “Slutty Brownies” at 10pm. My body is my temple and I am choosing to fuel it right!
  3. As for Facebook, well, this is hard for me. I feel so isolated from my friends and family in the states when I’m all the way up in Canadaland. Facebook has been my lifeline so to speak and I always thought I couldn’t be happy in Canada without it. That without Facebook I would just be a lonely sack of loneliness. It turns out I am wrong. Recently upon a trip to Seattle I came to the harsh realization that being a friend on Facebook does not equate to a friend in real life. Out of the dozens I have from the area I saw 4 friends one on one. 4. I saw my family from the area several times, and was blessed with gas money to see my family in Portland for a couple of days. Family will be family without Facebook. Family will call, email, Skype, pay for my gas to see them… They remain untouched by distance and time. With friends it’s different. In some instances when you are apart for a long time, your lives move in different directions.  The saying is true, friends come and go. Recently some chose to stay, some chose to go. And I am OK with this. It’s life, and I want mine to be without a false sense of friendship and popularity . I’ll be making my final “goodbye” to Facebook this week and letting everyone know how to reach me if they so desire. I do have genuine love/like for everyone on my Facebook, I just want more than a convenient comment on their lunch break. No malice here, nothing but love peeps. But I have to let Facebook GO.
  • I have 2 passions and I’m good at them. Its time for me to let go of whatever is holding me back from pursuing them, and just DO IT! I used to think it was a fear of being judged, I also thought maybe it was a fear of success or failure. But I don’t think either of those are it anymore. And because I can’t think of a reasonable reason for not pursuing them, I shall be moving forward.
  1. Don’t get too excited but I’m going to attempt to write my first book. I have several ideas, so maybe I’ll write a couple. Who knows!?! It’s so exciting to finally be putting all these thoughts that have been living in the crevices of my mind down on paper. Errr…into a computer simulating paper. I might even use a fancy font, so I can pretend I am writing in 1905.  And, I have always had this dream of writing sentiments in Hallmark cards professionally (not just illegally). It’s almost as weird as my dream of being a gas attendant. But not quite…
  2. I will be working hard on my photography. I find immense pleasure from photography and some say I have “a good eye” for finding unique beauty in nature. I love God’s earth and everything he decorated it with and the old lady next door… she did a good job too! I’m thinking about post cards, eBay, and Etsy. I might even take a photography course and wear a lot of black and get long bangs… I just might 😉


That’s that for now. I’ll be making regular posts starting next Monday… SO BE READY! =)

Some cliché sign off (you pick!),


Just Sharing

15 Sep

Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers but to be fearless in facing them.

Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain, but for the heart to conquer it.

Let me not look for allies in life’s battlefield but to my own strength.

Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved but hope for the patience to win my freedom.

Grant me that I may not be a coward, feeling your mercy in my success alone; But let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.

~Rabindranath Tagore~


I found this quote to be inspiring today. If anyone is dealing with any kind of challenge in life, know there is nothing that can not be overcome. Know that you are stronger than you think. God never gives people burdens they can not bare, and he puts people in your life to help carry the load. You are never truly alone. Have faith in God, yourself and the people who love you. Hold to hope and allow yourself to be vulnerable.

I love you all. Hope you have a wonderful day!

The Obvious Blues Amongst the Whites

3 Sep

I got to spend last weekend sans my wonderful son, and just with my wonderful husband. We spent the whole weekend celebrating our first year of marriage! I know to some people this is not an accomplishment but for us, it sure felt like one. I’m not saying it was challenging being married to T for a year, he makes life enjoyable! But we did have many challenges to face during the course of our first year as husband and wife.

We’ve been battling Canadian Immigration since March of 2010 and it hasn’t been easy. Its been stressful, tedious, unpredictable and expensive. To sum it up, the year hadn’t been a walk in the park of blissful newlywed love. But, it’s our passionate love for each other that gave us each the strength to continue fighting for our marriage and to keep our little family together under the same roof. The roof just happens to be foreign to B and I making challenges for us that most people do not have to deal with.

Good news is we are very close to submitting our Permanent Residency application after this coming week’s medical examination! So YAY!


Back to last weekend.

T fought for this celebratory weekend (literally it got ugly…lol). I suggested we stay home and not spend money, because that would be the more financially responsible route. But T was right, we deserved to celebrate our year together. As my mom put it, “You only get to celebrate your first wedding anniversary once!”. Of course, she was wrong and knew it once it came out of her mouth. “Umm Mom, this is my second first anniversary…” We shared an eye-roll and a giggle over that comment. But really, we owed this romantic weekend to ourselves.

My one requirement was that we go to a fine dining restaurant that would require us to “dress up”. I’ve lost 30 pounds this summer and have been eying a little black dress in my closet that hasn’t zipped in 2 years. After securing B’s care for two nights with his grandparents, some last-minute planning and reservations we had our weekend laid out…little black dress awaits!

I spent Friday’s late-afternoon primping which I don’t often get a reason or time to do. Oh it felt nice! I had forgotten how good it feels to do my make-up and hair and wear a pretty dress with high heels! I love heels and tonight I went with the 4 1/2 inchers…tall and sexy, that’s how I was feeling (yes, a tall 5’5). T of course made his dapper transformation in a matter of 15 minutes…so unfair.

We were about to leave for dinner when I realized I needed documentation of this evening. With some slight persuasion I managed to get T to knock on our neighbors’ door to ask her to take our picture. She was a bit shocked by our appearance. I don’t know if it was because she wasn’t expecting company or because I looked like a totally different human being. Nearly unrecognizable to myself, she very well could have been confused.  She agreed and offered her front garden as backdrop scenery.


Off we went to our 8 o’clock reservations at The Charles Restaurant in Niagara On The Lake, Ontario. Now, I picked this restaurant because the food looked amazing and it gave off an air of elegance in its period charm. It was obvious that there was a dress code, hence T and his tie. I was quite confident that we would be dressed appropriately and wouldn’t stick out.

We were a bit early so the well-dressed Maitre d’ led us to the lounge. The lounge had a subtle 1940’s feel with a long bar, reddish leather armchairs and antique round tables (picture provided by the restaurant’s website). We began talking about the building and how beautiful it was. Deciding which era we would want to live in if we could choose one. This choice was very hard for me as I appreciate many time periods. First I chose the 1920’s with the stipulation that I married rich to make it through the depression in class, T wouldn’t although that stipulation. So ultimately I chose to be born in the late 40’s so I would be of the appropriate age to enjoy the 60’s. The British Regency Era of the early 1800’s came in second. I have a slight love affair with the romanticized era due to my obsession with Jane Austen novels. T easily decided on the 1940’s as well. His reasons pertained to missing fighting in the war, listening to baseball games on the radio and enjoying life before gender roles changed and women were still “in the kitchen”. *Eye Roll*

We were brought into the dining room and seated at a cozy corner-table for two then promptly brought menus and drinks. The staff was so nice and attentive, as they should be with how much this dinner was about to cost us. Something you should know about me if you don’t already, I’m a bit of a food snob. Its true, I’ll admit it. I know the real value of foods and I hold chefs to a very high standard, especially in a place with a reputation for exquisite preparation. I expect perfection. And that goes for my cooking as well, I’m my biggest critic.

After we ordered we had time to take in our surroundings. The restaurant that used to be home to a wealthy family had kept a lot of its old-world charm. The owners had decorated exactly as I felt it should be with only slight touches of modern-day influence. It truly was the perfect setting I had hoped for, candles lit atop the fire-place mantle added to the ambiance once the sun fully set.

I looked around at the people who were dining along with us and noticed something. No one was dressed appropriately. One table in particular caught my eye. There were 3 men and 3 women, all in their early 50’s I’d guess. 2 of the women were dressed in khakis and cardigans with ugly brooches, gramma shoes. 2 of the men (husbands to the cardigans) were dressed business casual in dockers and polo shirts, comfy old man loafers. But the other couple, well, they looked like they just came from casual Friday on the farm. She wore a plain blue t-shirt and Levis, clogs. While her trendy hubby sported wranglers and a untucked button-down denim short-sleeved shirt, tennis shoes. Did I miss something? What were these people thinking? This is a very nice, fine dining restaurant and they are dressed like they are going to The Olive Garden. I didn’t get it. No one seemed to be dressed as I thought a place like this would require.

When I asked T if he found this odd he simply glanced around and said with a bit of a chuckle, “Why would they dress up? They are just here for Friday night dinner.” I didn’t get it. He noticed my confusion and said, “Hun, look closely at the people eating here. I can guarantee you they are all white-collar, we might be the only blues in here.” I took a good look at all of them again and ya know what? T was right. (It was all made even more apparent when we realized the only other men wearing ties were the fellow blue-collars; the Maitre d’ and waiters.) These were businessmen coming from the office to grab a quick bite with their friends or significant other. The fact that the plates ran around 25-60 dollars didn’t make this restaurant special, it just meant the food would be acceptable and the service to their liking. This was as T stated, just Friday night dinner to them. It was now very obvious to me that we stuck out. I now know that dressing like you’d imagine white-collared people to dress, only puts a huge neon sign above your head that reads “I’m Blue”. Not that I care though, I’m proud of everything T and I have and the life we are making for ourselves. I also felt super-fly and nothing would prevent me from getting my sexy on, even the neon sign. I was making those lights look good….!

I pointed out Mr. Denim and his matching wife as I just couldn’t get over it. T leaned in and said, “I’d put money on him being the most wealthy white-collar man in this restaurant.” We shared a laugh. It really was funny. Here we were breaking the bank while they ordered bottles of vintage wine that easily cost more than 10 times our entire bill. Regardless of their social status, I still found their attire a bit insulting to the establishment. I let T know that if he ever crossed over into white-collar status that he wouldn’t be allowed to wear jeans to classy places and that I would still spend hours getting ready, just wear more expensive clothing and jewelry…maybe higher heels too. T disagreed with me and said, “Sure honey, wear what you’d like. Whatever makes you happy. But by the time I would cross over into white-collar status I’ll have paid enough dues in this blue-collar get-up that you can damn well guarantee I’ll wear whatever the heck I want…even jeans with tennis shoes.” He paused, “But I’ll leave a bigger tip.” He had a point, I didn’t argue.

We enjoyed our evening thoroughly. We ate delicious food that did not disappoint my palate in the least. T ordered scallops (which I happen to be allergic to, no fair) and he started eying my lamb shortly after I began eating. Third bite in, “Are you going to finish that?”. Oh T, my eater. His wish was fulfilled as I rarely am able to finish a meal and he happily cleaned off my plate. We had great conversation, free from the interruptions of our wonderful but rambunctious 3-year-old. It was the perfect night by my standards and I was so happy T persuaded me to “forget about the money, and just relax”.

Thank you T for being the sexy husband of my dreams, the hard-working provider that our family needs, the best friend that I desire, and the awesome dad that you are to B. I am grateful for your constant support and companionship. You bring me laughter every day and I can’t ask for more than that, but you willing give me even more. You help me grow as an individual and challenge me. I am ever-appreciative of your different views and your ability to help me see situations from a new perspective. You are my perfect match in all things, even arguments and debates. I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love you, and look forward to every day I am blessed to be your wife.

August 29th, 2010

The “I’m in Love” Card

2 Sep

Usage Guidelines: To be used when you are in love and unable to function like a dependable, level-headed person

Expiration: When the side affects of being in love wear off

Oh how I love being in love! Is there anything better? I’d have to answer with a “No”. Love is what everyone in the world lives for. Even the most horrible people in the world crave to be loved. I bet if all the horrible people in the world had found love early on in life, they would only be half as horrible. I say ‘half as horrible’ because lets face it, some people are just destined to be horrible…no amount of love could take that away. It’s not a miracle cure people.

Being in love seems to have an annoying effect on some people though. I’m sure at some point in my many bouts with being in love that I exhibited this chemical reaction that manipulated my ever-dependable self into a forgetful fairy.


You happen to meet an amazing guy during the Meet & Greet session kicking off a weekend spent at a boring work convention. He sweeps in and saves you from dying of boredom while the key-note speaker was covering “The Six Types of Chemical Reaction”. Before you know it, 3 weeks have passed and you’ve been on 19 amazing dates (and counting). Every date seems magical, he must be some sort of demigod. And you’re guessing he must be of Greek descent as he’s chiseled like Heracles. The man-god has captured your very soul, everything you are is now ever-consumed in all things Heracles, or Jason, or Zac…whatever his name is.
You find yourself forgetting to eat, being unable sleep, or return phone calls and text messages to those people who keep haranguing you via technology. Hmm who are those people anyway? … OH! Right! My friends! And those other ones I’ve known my whole life…right, my family. But even now with the remembrance of the other people who exist in your life, you somehow seem to forget about them as soon as wonder-boy text messages you a ❤ totally out of nowhere! Awww, I ❤ you too Herckie! Or Marc, or Nathan….whatever his name is. ❤ ❤ ❤ What was I doing? … Oh right! Making a picture collage with the 15 photos I have of Heracles and Myself, I mean, Matthew errr Carl. …Where did I put my glitter pen???

Two more blissful weeks in Grecian Paradise pass by. You’re so in love that you’ve lost 6 pounds and your skin is literally glowing from the contact of his superpower infused lips. Life couldn’t get any better! But something does feel like its missing, what am I forgetting?….Oh right! I almost left for work without my cellphone! Oh that would have been unbearable!

You wander into work singing Berlin’s “Take my breath away” imagining your lover in a leather jacket like the one Maverick wore. You hit the chorus “Take my breath awaaaaaaaaaaay…”  as you enter the break room for your morning coffee, but you are met by familiar faces instead of the wonderful aroma of freshly brewed Starbucks. Some of these people are looking down intently at papers held in their hands, others give you sideways glances and judging eyes. Oh that’s just my Mom, she lives in Peru. Mom?! You take the room in completely and realize these are the faces of your friends and family, and your boss. What is going on? “Did someone die?” you ask totally confused but wondering somewhere in the back of your mind what size leather jacket Mr. Romance would wear…?

Your boss steps forward and says, “Marsha, we’re all worried about you. You aren’t returning phone calls, emails, or texts to the people who care about you. You’ve been floating around the office humming love ballads and reciting scenes from the movie Dirty Dancing in the front entrance fountain after work, sometimes during your lunch break. For some reason you keep calling our male clients Heracles. Half the time it doesn’t seem like you are here, well your body is but your mind is far away. Everyone is here to support you, we would like to offer you a gift and we hope you will accept it.”

Your mind is reeling. What is he talking about? Everyone is staring at you like you’re crazy! Why is my mom crying? You begin to think about the past month and 1/2, trying to make sense of it all. Why are they so concerned? Sure I haven’t seen them much or at all, and maybe I’ve developed an infatuation with Dirty Dancing… But all I’ve been doing is… Heracles. I mean, Sean, Percy, err Dan. Him, that’s all I know of this past month or so. Oooh I love him ❤ ❤ <3, I should text him, I miss him! That’s when it dawns on you.

You’ve been so wrapped up in being in love that you’ve forgotten all about the other people in your life and the job you take pride in being good at, and pretty much all other reality outside the realm of Grecian goodness.  You take a good look around the room, at the faces of the people you now realize you’ve missed. You begin to feel bad for ignoring them and making plans with them so they would leave you alone, only to stand them up repeatedly. Oh how horrible you feel about it.

Your mom steps forward, next to your boss. Your boss awkwardly places a hand on your mom’s shoulder. Is he consoling her? She reads from her paper, “Honey, we know of your addiction and we want to help. We’ve pulled all of our money together and we’d like to offer you the gift of recovery. Please take this gift, I want my daughter back. We all want you back in our lives. This addiction is consuming you, and we miss you. Please.” *Cue more tears*

Addicted?!? They think I’m addicted! Of course they do, well, I guess I am… But not like how they think. You take a deep breath, and then play the only card you can in your defense. “Everyone, thank you for your concern. Mom, you really didn’t need to come all this way… (people begin to mumble angrily, and crinkle their papers) I sincerely apologize to each and every one of you for my poor behavior recently. But I do not need to go to rehab. I am not addicted to any substances whatsoever. I promise you. I’m… I’m just… (spit it out) I’m in love.”

*Queue Curtains*

We’ve all been there before. Ok, maybe not in a fountain reenacting the lake scene from Dirty Dancing and facing an intervention but you get what I mean. Being in love can become all-consuming to the point that you neglect everyone who was in your life previously to Mr. Wonderful. When faced with the accusations of your shortcomings in other relationships, pull out the “I’m in Love” card and hope that whoever you give it to will be understanding and forgiving. But there is an unspoken rule: No repeat uses on the same person. They will only accept this card once. Next time, they’ll just be pissed off and annoyed and you’ll have some making up to do.

He Entered MySpace

1 Sep

While waiting to move from my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Oregon to Idaho with my sister, I acquired a lot of down time. I made myself useful by doing household chores during the day and making dinner in the evenings. Usually with the assistance of a Sous Chef; my slightly older and awesome male cousin T. I would also doddle about on the internet when I had nothing else to do…usually by noon. At the time ‘MySpace’ was a very popular online destination for me, and fellow young adults as well. And that’s where I met him.

The condensed version of how I met L: He emailed me through MySpace because he was to be stationed with the Air Force in Mountain Home (where I would soon be living) and was trying to make friends before arriving from Italy. Me being the out-going person that I am responded enthusiastically and began getting to know him. We emailed back and forth 3-5 times a day. I was beginning to get to know him as well as any friend I had, in fact, better than. Here are a few details so you know a bit about him too: He was 20, we shared the same Christian beliefs as well as a admiration for strange humor. He was from a small town in Texas, he joined the Air Force right out of high school and was working as an enlisted Firefighter. After a week of conversing through email we decided to take it to the telephone.

My stomach was all a flutter the first time I heard his voice. It was just as I had imagined it. Calm, light-hearted and with a slight southern draw. I didn’t realize the feelings I had developed for him while we emailed each other the previous week. This was crazy and I knew it. But the free-spirit inside was driving me on, this was exciting!

By the second week of chatting I was completely wrapped up in L. I impatiently waited for his phone call from the moment I awoke, I checked my email obsessively just in case and talked incessantly about him to whomever would listen. I hadn’t met him in person but he already had my heart. I felt silly, but I couldn’t help it. Not long after I realized how much I cared for him, he confessed his attachment to me. He genuinely liked me and his feelings were growing deeper every day. “I have something to ask you and I know it might be a bit weird since we are in different countries. Would you mind not dating anyone, well, dating just me actually?” He wanted me as his girlfriend adding “At the risk of scaring you away I had to ask, because I know your value and I know it won’t be long before another guy will notice it too”. I of course, with my tummy all a flutter and my heart racing, readily agreed to not date anyone else. I was off the market, and waiting to meet my boyfriend. Hahaha, yes I knew it was weird and maybe a bit naive. But I didn’t care. Something was different in this relationship, there was a gravitation-like pull I had never felt toward someone.

A week later L asked me to fly to Italy so we could meet sooner, instead of waiting until February. I’m not going to lie, February was four months away and kind of felt like a painful sentence of time to endure. I also had been dreaming of going to Italy for years and that dream was now within my reach. He even offered to take me to Florence for my 18th birthday! How could I say no? What reason did I have? Everything inside me screamed YES! I knew getting my parents approval might prove a bit difficult but I’d figure something out. I had to go. I told him yes, he began arranging my flights, and I had a ticket to Italy within a few days. In the meantime…

Getting around my parents without lying was kind of challenging. I knew if I was totally honest about how I knew L, or for how long, that they would 100% object. “This guy could be a child predator!”, I could hear it now. Any good parent would freak out and completely object, rightfully so. But I knew L was a good guy and I knew he would never harm me, this just felt right. So I did what any 17-year-old would do, I bent the truth. Ok I bent half-truths. They believed what I offered them though, without any pointed questions that would have caused me to outright lie. They gave their consent with only slight hesitation, and were happy for my dream of seeing Italy to be realized. I did feel guilty about this, and eventually I told them the whole truth. They were a bit shocked by my twisted truths and smooth manipulations, but by that time I was 18 and they really couldn’t do anything about it. All I got was, “Oh Lace…You’re lucky he was a good guy. That could have turned out really bad!” Along with a few displeased glares from my mother.

But before I could fly off to Italy to meet the love of my life, I had to take steps to establish my new life. Ya know, the one that I was going to make for myself in Mountain Home, Idaho? I have no idea why I decided to move to a town I knew was boring and brown. What kind of life could I make for myself there? The place was isolated and dull, it offered me nothing I desired when it came to opportunities or diversity of people. “At least L would be there after the new year” I thought to myself as I packed once more, “He would make life in small town USA more exciting”. But really, what was I thinking before I knew L would be there? Who knows? I sure didn’t, still don’t actually.

Here goes nothin, time to move in with my sister. *Gulp*