Love, Lust and Friendship

Today, I heard some news.  Sad news.  About people that I care about.  Good friends.

A relationship is in trouble, and that is never a good thing.  While both of them are fine (actually, I only talked to her, not to him, but he's like Geoff- unflappable, so I am sure he seems fine, even if he happened to be broken inside) the whole situation is sad and fucked up. 

It makes me think.  About relationship in general, and about mine specifically. 

In general, I think I know a couple of happy couples.  Barb and Bill for one, Joel and Carrie for another, Kurt and Amber for a third.  Each of them seem genuinely happy with each other.  All of them have been married for alot of years, at least 9 or 10, and they are all still in love.  They set great examples. 

Barb and Bill have the best routines, and traditions.  They bet each other over ridiculous things, and truly enjoy the bragging rights of winning.  They understand each other so well, that Bill will cut people off, before they tell a story that would upset Barb (she can't stand to hear about people being cruel to animals).  They have inside jokes, they are perfectly happy and comfortable in each other's company, they can get drunk together, and they laugh all the time. They call each other "Shane" and the story behind it is awesome and sweet.  I know everyone has their ups and downs, and I am sure they have them too.  But they are the classic case of opposites attracting, and then once you see them together, you see how truly perfect they are together.  I would be shocked to the core if they ever split up.

Joel and Carrie

Joel and Carrie are another couple that sets a great example.  They have 2 beautiful kids, and are pretty much up for anything, anytime.  Carrie is soft spoken, but warm and genuine and funny.  She can also drink me under the table.  Which I love in a girl!  Joel we have known for about FOREVER, and he has truly found his match in Carrie.  They are warm and affectionate together.  If he sits in front of her, she plays with his hair.  When they are lounging on the couch, he will rub her arm or leg.  They do for each other constantly, and seem to be on the same page with just about everything. 

A truly crappy picture of Kurt and Amber

Kurt and Amber- well, they are some of the best people I know.  Amber has health issues, and Kurt has ALWAYS been there for her.  She, in turn, has supported him through everything- all his schooling, moves all over the country, and his ups and downs in his career.  They, too, are super affectionate, and totally in love.  They are inspiring.

So, what does that tell me?  It tells me that love, true love, is possible.  It exists.  And people have found it.  Even after the babies come, and it is suddenly 10 years later, and you are still seeing that same person across the breakfast table- love is still there.  And that is a big fucking deal. 

So what about me?  What have I got?  Well, obviously, I am not going to get into the gory details of the goods and bad of my relationship on here.  My mother reads this blog, for Christ sake. But here's what I know.

- Geoff can drive me crazy, absolutely fucking bananas, in the span of about 30 seconds.
- I care about what he thinks about- about the world in general and about me specifically.
- I think he needs to improve in certain areas (read house and yard work) but after 12 years with little progress, I still remain hopeful.
- I know him pretty well, but sometimes he surprises me. 

- I wish we talked more.  You know, "talked".  Like about things that I haven't given birth to.

- There have been times in my life that I have been mad enough to hit him.  I might, might, have actually taken a swing.  But never connected.
- I am an extremely jealous person.  I try to hide it, but he always knows.  And pretends he doesn't. 
- He says "like" too much.  As in " So I'm like "dude what's up?" and he's like "dude, not much".  And I'm like....".  And once I notice it, I can't NOT notice it.  And it makes me insane.
- His laugh, when he gets laughing really hard, is absolutely ridiculous.  It's like a grand mal seizure.
- He can't be wrong.  He corrects everything.  And I hate it when he corrects me and he's right.
- I usually win in the gift giving category.  I rock the house.  And he never believes me when I tell him not to get me anything.
- He hates my dog.  But pretends not to, for my sake.
- He always gets to sleep in on the weekends.  Even  when it's my turn, somehow, he still gets to sleep in.
- He's good to my parents. 

- He takes good photos. And is getting better at it every day.

- He believes he can't cook.  Everytime he makes a meal, he assumes I hate it, because he did a crappy job. But he is acutally an awesome cook.
- He never spits.  Which I love.
- He is always my designated driver.  Even when he didn't come out with me.  Even when I don't know where I am, just that the street is named after a movie.  (It was Highlander Street in Queenston.)
- He loves me, and tells me every day.  Even when I don't say it back. 
- I am not affectionate.  It makes me uncomfortable.  But I try to be, for him.

Where that leaves us is right here.  Together.  Still. 

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "near and dear".

Gore Whore

That's right.  I am a Gore Whore.  I love blood and guts and gore.  I think it started originally with my grandmother.  When my grandpa would go away for the weekend, fishing or whatever, she would come and stay with us.  We would rent the most horrible, cheesy B-movie horrors ever seen, and watch them all weekend in marathons sessions.  She loved them.  Both Adam and I are huge fans now, and I think that has a lot to do with it.

The first "grown up" book I ever read was "The Howling."  I think I was in Grade 4 (correct me if I'm wrong, mom).  I remember it was summer, my mom had just finished reading it, and I picked it up and just started reading.  I knew it was an adult book, and I thought I would get in trouble for reading it.  So I hid it from my mom for a while.  When she did finally figure out that I was reading it, I didn't get in trouble at all.  I think she was actually pretty surprised.  I was only about 9 years old, after all.   I remember understanding most of it.  There are some graphic sex parts in it, and I am pretty sure I really didn't understand much of that.  But I really liked the werewolves.  By the time I was in 8th grade, I was devouring Stephen King and anything else I could get my hands on.  My mom encouraged that, and we reccommended books often.  Still do.

I am still the same.  I turn to horror first, most of the time.  My photography company revolves around the idea of horror.  I get little shivery thrills when Rue Morgue rolls around.  Thank God for Bill, I get to actually watch scary movies at the movies sometimes, instead of having to always wait for video (since Geoff hates them and won't go watch.)

So, with all this, and my inherent love of all things Halloween, why do I not care this year?  I haven't decorated the house, I just bought my candy last night.  I couldn't force myself to dress up at work today, and I am not excited about this weekend at all.  I did like going to Sebastian's school today, and seeing his Halloween parade.  But other than that, I could take it or leave it.

Happy halloween times

I HATE that I feel this way.  I love holidays.  Everyone makes fun of me for it, but I don't care.  I don't want to be apathetic about holidays.  I want them to be events for the kids, things that they look forward to and have fun during, and talk about afterwards.  I want to create memories.  I don't want to be "that" person- that complains that Christmas is coming, that hates getting the valentine's ready, that doesn't hide eggs for thier kids, and that hides in the basement on Halloween night with the lights off.  I want to have fun and love every single minute of it.

But this year, I don't.  I don't know why.  It makes me sad.

Maybe I will change my mind.  Maybe next year will be better. 

I think some of it is the pressure I am feeling about the wedding coming up.  I am nervous, and I am at the stage where I am just wishing it was over.  I also get bitter about the fact that if I don't do it ("it" being decorating, carving pumpkins, buying candy, what have you), no one else will.  Because no one else cares.  And if they don't care, then why would I expect them to help?  Short answer is- I shouldn't.  But I do.  Unfair of me, I know, but there it is.  It scares me- because the people around me are not into the things that I am, I am worried that it kills the part of me that loves it, just a little bit, each year.  Each year, it gets harder and harder to care, and to work and to do the things I want to do.  Some day, I worry, that part will be gone.  And I just won't care at all anymore. 

Anyway...

The Gore Whore in me knows that this will get better.  It's just an off year.  But I wish I was on, I wish everything was great, and perfect and put together. 

I wish I loved Halloween more this year.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "negative".



This was mine and Sebastian's contribution to a silent auction for a children's charity.



What up, dog?

I realized that I haven't really blogged much about what is up and happening lately, so this is my catch up. 

Last week, Sebastian was supposed to have dental surgery.  Instead, we got to sit for 2 hours in a hospital waiting room, to find out that the anethetist thought he was too sick to proceed.  Whatever.  He was fine.  No runny nose, no coughing, nothing.  Oh, and did I mention the heart mumur?  Yeah, apparently, she heard a mumur, after a million other doctors (3 that week alone) hadn't heard.  But she did.

And she was weird.  She never looked me in the eye, but stared out the window.  It was kind of like when blind people look in your general direction but obviously don't meet your eyes.  Because they CAN'T. It was like that, but she's not blind.  Weirdo.

So, we are rebooked for November 18.  Which just happened to be the day that we were doing sleep cheap.  Which also got fucked up, so we didn't mind cancelling it anyway. 

Saturday, we did Pumpkinfest at Heartland Forest.  The kids went in costumes, and Sebastian's was literally falling to pieces.  Which sucked, because for once, he was super excited about it.  But I am super mom, and whipped out the needle and thread when we got home, and now it is better than ever.  Ready for trick or treating.

Surprisingly, I am still running.  I am on Week 3, after having repeated Week 1.  I got off track a bit when I went to Nerdfest, so I thought it would be good to do it again.  So far, I have run with cramps, with debilitating cramps in both calves and twice in the rain.  Last night I ran at 11 at night, in the rain.  I am so awesome.  I am gonna keep going...fingers crossed.

I finally finished the second season of the Sons of Anarchy.  I want to start watching Season 3 tonight, but had to wait for the kids to go to bed, since it really isn't appropriate for them to watch, at all.  I am so addicted to this show.  I really try not to reccommend shows to many people (Dawn is the exception, she likes everything I reccommend to her, and I usually love everything she reccommends to me.  I think it is because we are equally amazing. :) but I am telling EVERYONE to watch this show.  Opie is my favorite.  *sigh*

hmmmmm...what else is happening?  Sebastian's 9th birthday is coming up.  Have to figure out what we are gonna do and what to get him.  We are shooting the Halloween wedding this weekend.  We applied to be a vendor at the Wizard World Con again in March.  I have a couple new ideas for pictures.  I am doing a table at the artisan fair at work on November 26.  We are going to the Autism Ontario dinner dance on November 27.  I have an autism conference next week on Wed, Thur and Fri, in Toronto. We are thinking of going to Cleveland in December to see the Christmas Story house and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

I can't think of much more.  Sebastian is good, so is Sawyer.  Got their outfits for their Christmas picture.  This year's colour is blue.  :)  fun times.

I still haven't bought candy for Halloween, or started my Christmas shopping.  I need to mail out the calendar someone bought from us, and I have to balance my books.  I have an exam on November 13, Adam''s birthday, and I can't remember how to study.

Other than that, I'm good.  What's new with you??

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "news of the day."

Glee-full

So everyone and their brother (or more likely sister) has blogged about Glee.  Especially after last night's episode.  I love Rocky Horror, and I don't know what I expected, but I think, sadly, it was more.  Don't get me wrong.  The show was great, and I am pulling out Rocky Horror tonight to watch the full thing.  I dunno...maybe I was just cranky.

Sue Sylvester, as always, makes it for me.  She is the fucking best.  Hilarious.  I would watch 4 hours of just her, talking. 

I do like that Rachel Berry is stepping back and it is more about the secondary characters.  And I liked that Emma Pillsbury did "Touch Me".

I can't believe I actually wrote this blog.  Wow.

P.S.  I miss Puck, where the frak is he?

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "neurosis".

Homework sux!

I decided back in July, that it would be a really keen idea to take a college level course in Accounting.  I have the photography business, plus I am a financial analyst (sounds more impressive than it really is), so it can only help. 

But here I am, at the tail end of the course.  I acutally learned alot, but I have to finish two assignment and write an exam.  Blech.  I hate tests.  I never really learned how to study.  I have a good memory (at least I did, it seems to be getting worse as I get older) and I would always be able to recall just enough to do well on the test.  I was a solid B student through most of high school and college, and that was without studying and doing homework at the last minute.  If I had applied myself, who knows what I could have done?  Ah well. 

So, anyway, here is my second chance.  My chance to be organized and responsible.  And I find myself in the same situation.  I am only 1 assignment behind, which isn't too awful bad, except that they are all due on Monday.  So that means today is dedicated to homework.  And I have to plow through it as fast I can, because I also have a life, and kids, and I would like to spend my weekends doing things other than learning about bank reconiliations and FOB shipping vs FOB destination. 

I keep saying that I have to simplify my life.  I don't know how it got so busy.  I don't have time to do the things I love to do- like read, and knit, and just have fun and play.  If I do those things, I spend the entire time thinking about how I have a million other things that I HAVE to do. 

So, today, I cleaned the kitchen, did brekkie for the kids, fed the dog, filed some papers, prepped a shipment, cleaned the bathroom, and now- wrote a blog.  Now it's time for homework.  Wish me luck.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for k "Nowledge".  (fuck off, the K is silent!)

Fade to Black

Have I mentioned that I hate faders?  Lately, it seems like everything I do, everywhere I go, people are bailing out. 

Not that I haven't done it myself.  I think everyone has had a time or two when they have committed to something that sounded like a great idea at the time, and then, when the time comes, it is the LAST thing in the world that you want to do.  I try and force myself to go because I know, in the end, I will probably end up having a really good time.  But sometimes, I just can't do it, and I pull a fade.

But, as a true hypocrite, I get frustrated when it happens to me. 

I don't really have much else to say about it. 

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "Ne'er do well".

a look in the mirror

Since she is crawling all over me- literally, she is riding on my back right now- I have decided to blog tonight about Sawyer.  Sebastian had his turn, now it's hers. 



Sandy toes.  My Sawyer Bean.



If Sebastian is my miracle baby, Sawyer is my million dollar baby.  Actually $7500.00 baby.  That is approximately how much it cost us to get her.  Granted, most of that was through our benefits and it doesn't include the mileage and gas that a daily ride to Hamilton takes, but it is a rough estimate.

I got pregnant with Sebastian right away.  About a month after I stopped taking the pill.  Easy as pie.  Sawyer was a little more difficult.  I should have known that she would always present a challenge to me. :) 

We tried to have Sawyer for about 5- 5 1/2 years.  We started talking about a new baby when Sebastian was about 18 months old, and Sawyer was born about 2 months before he turned 7.  Long time.  Now, granted through some of that, we thought we might have to put the kibosh on another baby.  We didn't know what was up with Sebastian, and how much care he would need.  We didn't think it would be fair to bring a new baby into a family where we simply didn't have the time for them.  So, once we knew that Sebastian would have at least a little bit of independance, we decided to go for it.  I was getting older (I was 28 when Sebastian was born), and I have always had "female difficulties."  So I figured we were in for the long haul.  I saw a specialist in St. Catharines for about 2 years- about 18 months longer than I should have.  I had my miscarriage when I was with him.

Now, I understand the physics and reasons behind miscarriages.  For some reason or another, most times, the baby isn't viable, and it is nature's way of taking care of business.  I have talked to women who have had miscarriages, and were very matter of fact about it.  Especially early on, they sometimes seem to be very accepting and have the ability to understand and move on.

That wasn't me.

After years of peeing on the stupid sticks, I finally had one that had 2 lines.  FINALLY!  In true Anita fashion, I took 3 more.  All positive.  I was happy, very happy.  But I felt strange- not physically, but mentally.  I didn't believe that it was true.  I wanted to talk to a doctor.  I didn't really want to tell anyone.  Now, in hind sight, I think I knew it wasn't a keeper.  Geoff had finally talked me into telling our families.  I lost the baby about 4 days later. 

I cried for days.  I took 2 days off work- which is unheard of for me (at my last job, I went 14 years with 1 sick day.)  I didn't want to talk to anyone, about anything.  I truly wanted to be left totally alone.  It was weeks before I could talk about it without crying.

Anyway, after that, we moved to McMaster and the good doctors there.  They got to work, got me tested, got Geoff tested.  When we finally got cooking, I started injecting myself every day.  I would drive 45 minutes to 1 hour every morning, to Hamilton.  I would give a blood sample, have an internal ultrasound, and then get my medication assignment for the day.  Then I would drive 45 minutes to 1 hour back, and start work.  And I did all of this with no one but Geoff knowing.  I ended up telling my mother after a little while, because it was just too hard to keep the secret from everyone.  I had to tell work something, because a couple of times I would hit traffic and be late for work.  We did artificial insemination twice.  The first time didn't take, because Geoff's "sample" wasn't viable.  The second was our last attempt.  We had maxed out all our benefits.  I was physically and mentally exhausted.  I was tired of this being everything in our lives.  We already had Sebastian, who was and is fucking awesome.  We had a family.  We didn't need to do this.  So, after this one last attempt, we were packing in the baby wagon, so to speak.

Of course, it worked.

my sunshine girl

It gave me no small amount of stress, when I thought about what we had done.  I am not an overly religous person.  But I do believe in a higher power.  And I was worried about what might happen, if we were messing with God's plan.  God obviously made it difficult for me to get pregnant for a reason.  And we were fucking around with nature's plan.  What if I gave birth to the next Hitler, the Hitler that nature tried to prevent?  What if the baby was deformed, or handicapped?  I knew I could handle that, with Sebastian- but is that fair to the baby????  You  can see how my thoughts went.

As it is, she's perfect.  Uber-perfect.  The second love of my life.  I think she is also destined to be my arch-nemisis, but that's for another day.

My birth experience with her was everything I had ever hoped and wished for.  It was everything that Sebastian's birth wasn't.  It was natural and wonderful and messy and loud.  I wasn't ashamed or inhibited.  I owned it.  I have never done anything before or since that made me feel so fully powerful.  It is a memory I will treasure for the rest of my life. 



Daddy and daughter



From day one, I loved her, and all my experiences with her.  I breastfed her, something I didn't do with Sebastian.  We would lay in bed and cuddle all day long- for about the first week.  Then I had to kick it into gear and get moving.  I sometimes wish I had milked that for a bit longer.  Ah well.

And now...well, she's my little girl.  She is independant and strong.  She wants to see and do and have everything.  She idolizes her daddy and her brother.  The cutest thing I have ever seen is her imitating everything that Sebastian does, just over his shoulder. 



She gives the biggest bear hugs.  She screams for me when I come in the door after work.  She hugs my knees and calls me "mum-mum".  I fucking love it.



heartbroken



She loves to colour.  Some of my favorite times are laying on her floor and colouring princess pictures with her.  She is a girly girl, but also tough as shit.  She loves so much, and her feelings are easily hurt.  When she is sad, she is devestated.  She is going to drive me crazy.  I just know it.  But if we make it through that, we will be good friends.



She is smart.  So frigging smart.  She can figure things out by looking at them.  She will try and try and try, until she can work or get or open whatever it is that she wants.



Belly laughs



I love her eyes.  They are huge and blue and beautiful.  I love her hair.  It is crazy and red and wild and soft and smells like summertime.  I love her hands.  They are always sticky and dirty, because of the exploring she is always doing.  I love her teeth.  They are tiny and perfect.  I love her laugh.  She snorts and trills and chuckles, and none of them are lady like, but all of them make me laugh when I hear them, no matter how pissed off I am. 

She just went to bed.  I miss her already.

Rosie N. Grey

The N stands for noodlebug.