Friday, March 30, 2012

Another Piece Of Me: A Forget Me Not Friday Linkup

I am not sure if I mentioned this or not in previous posts but among the list of things that I do, I am also a support worker. When I was growing up I wanted to be a singer, dancer, anything to make me a lot of money and famous. Because when you're a teen that is pretty much all life is about. Fun, money and being famous. Now I am a mother of four. Fame means having all four children demand something from you at the same time and your husband wanting you on top of all that. Money. What money? It's all sucked up into the abyss of clothing, food, school, sports and other child related activities. Fun, is no longer about drinking and dancing at the coolest club. It's about chasing your naked fifteen month old around the house trying to get his diaper on while he laughs deep belly laughs. Unable to catch him because you are significantly slowed down by your own laughter. Fun, is now listening to the same story about being a ballerina, a puppy and Grandma being beautiful after you tell your only daughter she is beautiful. Fun, is watching your five-year-old sing you yet another song in French, and understand the story you butchered while reading with your really bad French pronounciation. Fun, is your fourteen-year-old who most of the time makes you wonder why your whole head of hair isn't completely grey by now, and in the next breath has you in awe of how kind he can be when he decides he wants to be. Let's not forget those moments he isn't trying to be funny and says something that sends you rolling in laughter. So much so you end up with side stitches. The other things that have changed are what I want to be when I grow up.

Yes, I want to be a mother. I'm not perfect. I have a ways to go. I found that I also want to be a support worker. It's not an easy job. Although oddly easier some days than raising my children. It's a job that gives me satisfaction. A job that has me feeling like I am giving something back. It is a job that allows me lots of room for personal growth. Which leads to today. No I am not going to discuss the clients I work for as that is a total breach of their privacy and the law. Plus I would lose my job in the blink of an eye. But I do want to share what I have learned.

Today I went and took the Lift and Transfer course provided through my job. The people I work with have limited mobility and while I don't need the lifts, I do need to know some basics. Like leg braces and body braces. What do they look like, why are they used. What do I look for in fit, etc. How do I ensure the person I am caring for is comfortable and the product is doing it's job? Cleaning, and so forth. Pretty standard, but interesting as it wasn't something I knew too much about as prior to this I worked with mobile clients. Next was this baby:



(Google Images)


We each got to use a lift and got to be lifted in one of these. I have to say, while it was fun to be the liftor and think about being the liftee. As the control freak I am, not so much fun swinging in mid air from a machine that looks like it could drop you if you moved the wrong way.

After a coffee break we moved on to the mobility aspect of things. Some of them looked like medieval torture devices like this little beauty:



www.rifton.com


It looks pretty rough, but it provides an imobile person a different position. A different perspective. It provides some load bearing on their bodies where normally they wouldn't ever have, which is good for the body. It also provides circulation within the bladder and intestines which allows better waste removal. Standing is something I know I take for granted. As medieval as this appears, I am so glad that someone thought of it and put it out there to be utilized. What a sense of freedom the person using it must have when their normal life consists of lying down.

There were also awesome bikes like this one, although the ones at our work were not as nice as they were not as new. These are some pricey bikes running around $3000.00 for some really nice ones. But they are cool. I won't lie, I wanted to test drive one.



(Google Images)


These were the coolest things I saw yet though:



(especialneeds.com)


It reminded me of the scooters in elementary school gym classes. Rolling along the floor on our belly's. Racing and laughing. Yep, that is what they get to do here as well. All these things allow people from children to adults get a new lease on life that they would not normally get if they were not around. I am so thankful that we have people in this world who thought of and made their ideas reality for those who couldn't do it themselves. I am glad that I went into this profession. Not only am I giving them something, support. They are giving me something back as well. Compassion, knowledge, life lessons only people of my clients caliber could.

I am happy to see that my tax dollars go towards equipment that help build healthy bodies and lives for these people. I am glad that we live in a Country that supports people like my clients. That helps to provide them "group homes" to live in for more independence. That provides them with lives and support that they otherwise wouldn't get. Which leads me to the second half of my post. The Forget Me Not Friday Linkup. I am joining up with Jane over at Flight Platform Living. She advocates for the children of Reeces Rainbow. Through her a young girl captured my heart. She was born the same year and month as my second born and she had something in her eyes I couldn't escape from. She has since found her family and is now with them. My heart bursts at the seams with this, as she will not end up as many in her situation do.

Many of the children in these orphages don't end up in the types of homes I work in. Or the centers like the one that employs me. They end up in instititutions. They are left there to live out the rest of their lives where there are not enough care givers to give each of them what they need. Things we take for granted. Life is typically "good" for these children until they are around the age of six. Then they are sent to these institutions where they will fade away until they eventually pass away. Their growth mentally and physically is always stunted. There are ways to help. Please check out this blog hop. Pray, give, share, adopt. Whatever, you are able to do. Let's change these lives. Let's give them the small things we take for granted, like those few things I have mentioned above. Let's have A Forget Me Not Friday.



Forget Me Not Fridays


Sunday, March 25, 2012

Project Chicago

That is what I am calling it. I want to go to #cheesychicago! I felt pretty darn awesome when Marianna Annadanna from Snappy Surprise asked me if I was in. I mean I wanted to go, but to be asked. It wasn't just me that wanted to be a part of it. Somebody who was planning it wanted me to be a part of it. What is #cheesychicago? It's a bunch of women bloggers meeting up for what I assume is a weekend of shenanigans. Oh and in their blog Cheesy Bloggers they state a lot of cheese and beer. I hate beer so I think I'll have to find some vodka. Besides I can't hold my beer, I'm done after three and I don't plan on viewing the inside of a jail cell in Chicago. Not exactly on this girls list of tourist attractions. Will we even leave the hotel room?

So why so excited? It's just Chicago. I already live in Canada's windy city. How would America's windy city be any different? According to my husband it isn't much different. Just bigger. For this girl who is terrified to travel and been known to get physically ill just travelling two provinces away (that has been easing up thank goodness), it is a massive deal! This means I'll need a passport. And if I can obtain the money to go (without affecting the money we are trying to save to go to Alberta this summer), it will be my very first time on an airplane. To top it all off I will be travelling all by my lonesome! Yes, my anxiety has me crapping my pants at this very minute.

So "Project Chicago" it is. Which means working as many hours as I can at work and getting as many sales with my business as I can so that I can still pay my new van loan and get my tuckus to Chicago with some spending money. Does anyone know how soon I need to book a flight in advance? I might even sell my first born for this as well. Just sayin'.

Friday, March 23, 2012

Life Is A Busy Place

Here, there and everywhere. I am pulled in many different directions. I put myself here. Now I need to learn the art of time management.

I love what I am doing. My business By L.A.C.E. is taking up my time. I have just made my latest Cuddly "Buster Brown" Bear. The one I have showing, is not as fine tuned as the one that went out. (He needed a tail lift) I am however, so happy with the fix that I think he is my favourite one to date. I have more ideas running through my head, but need to get to some orders as well as some ones to put up on site without embroidery for ready for sale. A lot of late nights to say the least.



Notice need of tail lift


I also just got my notes back from my instructor. I had a gut feeling he would have gone for my second storyline. Not the one I wanted. Fair enough. Maybe a fresh start is what I need to get away from my attachment to the other story and characters. He thought the ending was over done. Yes, it is a crap ending. I knew it was, I was truly hoping it would morph itself into a better one. For now, it apparently won't matter as I am off on an adventure I know nothing about. Nadda. The next assignment is due mid April. Gots to get on it.

I hate lists. Abhor them. Now every morning I am making them. They help me get done the mundane housework that I really don't want to do. Keeping me on task and my house looking like a hoarder doesn't live here. Just don't go into the basement okay?

Well that is about it for here. I'm trying to get things up and running more on my blog. I just find that I'm running out of time for most things. Like right now I should be getting my son ready for school. Instead I am writing this blog and watching the "Scratching the Surface", some extra stuff on "The Muppets" movie DVD. So jealous of the celbrities who are in this movie along side my all time faves. The got to be near Animal! Swoon!

Monday, March 12, 2012

My Outer Sasquatch


(google images)





Tall and burly,

I would fair well to say manly.

I can almost curl the hair on my long limbs.

My underarms have no fear of the chill in the winter air,

They are like a mini-sweater holding all heat and thank God smell in.

The freak man-hairs on my belly that never went away from having children.

I love them! They are great conversation starters.

And that bikini line? No worries over here.

Bathing suits, bikini's, thong underwear. I don't wear them. Only boy shorts and boxers for this gal.

How did I get so lucky to be able to show off this luscious side of myself?

My Outer Sasquatch.

Thursday, March 1, 2012

I think I Have Found An Ending

I was reading late into the night, which passed in to the wee morning hours. I skipped right over the witching hour too engrossed in a battle between my three-year-old and her need for sleep and her want to dance with the night owls.

Blast those night owls and their alluring call. I used to want to dance with them too. Afraid of what it would possibly miss if I didn't. I was as aggravating as nails on a chalkboard to my mom with my night owl desires. As my eldest was for me as a single mom in college, and my daughter is to me as a single mom for the week. We are all born in November. I am starting to believe that November is be-witched.

Finally at 1:30 am I was able to settle in to my bed and drift into the lulling rythmn of my book.

I am currently reading, "A Discovery of Witches" by Deborah Harkness.
I am also waiting for my critiques back from my instructor from my writing course. While I am all caught up on everything I need to do up to this point. One of the things was to "examine" the book I am reading. Well, more or less the characters. In order to make mine more "real". To enable mine a life of it's own. Up until this point, I assumed I had to make the story work. That it was entirely up to me. Imagine to my surprise and confusion that in reality, the story, the characters tell me what to write and where to go. That I have a painstaking job of being patient and listening. That it is unlike my poetry that I used to be able to spew out in five minutes, sometimes less. (It's been a long, long time since I could write like that). I have a feeling that is what was wrong with the story I started writing many moons ago. While I still danced with the Night Owl. Each time I pushed the story forward. It pushed back and wouldn't work. Our back and forth ended in writers block and my need to purge the novel. I regretted it for so long. After last night, I no longer regret it. I miss some of the imagery, and conversation. But I think I needed it. I am certain I needed the purge now.

So what exactly brought on this revelation to my long nursed anger at myself for tossing something I laboured over for approximately three years? I am nearing the end of the book now. I couldn't really get into it for the first bit. I think I was analyzing the characters too much. It gave me too little and I was being an impatient writer. I wanted what I read in my course to reveal itself to me at my bidding. I wasn't able to make the connection to my reading like I normally do. Like I did in the first couple of chapters. This is how I knew it was me and not simply a badly written book. Sometime during the day yesterday I hit a point in the book of no return. I found the characters stride, I was pushed forward into a world I was afraid to know. I laughed, I cried. (Really I did. Books don't make me cry.) It was a roller coaster ride I wasn't willing to put down. In a way I was grateful for my daughter's need for the Night Owls dance, it caused me to have my own dance within the pages of imagination. It was the part where Diana Bishop learns about the magic within her and how to release it. I could relate. It was how I got when I released Marina from inside and set her into her world. It was when I did this that she worked. I paused and thought about my ending. How do I want it? How should it be and sit and work? I was here that I waited for the answer. I felt it stirring and rising to my chest. Speaking to me with a passion I hadn't felt in so long. I quickly rose from my bed and quietly escaped my room and down the stairs, making a beeline for my "writing" book. I held it to me close, trying not to lose what I had just seen. Tried to keep focus, found a pen and still only managed to remember whisps. The images were leaving like faded memories. Too quickly. I tried to push my pencil to paper. Then I remembered to surrender to my character. To the "truth" of my book and I found my ending. I am still unsure of the beginning, I fiddle with the middle, but I know my end. For this I am happy. Exhausted from such little sleep, but content.
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