Nov
01
Posted by Kym
I don’t know if this post is going to come off sounding sad, or funny - whether it’ll touch some people’s hearts or offend them to the core. I’ve just been reflecting a lot about friendship lately, and I really want to write about what’s been filling my head the past few days.
The blossoming friendship between Emma and my dear friend Angela’s little boy Dakota has been a source of both entertainment and introspection for me. At times they’re delighted with each other, giggling and bouncing and chasing each other while screaming at the top of their lungs. Other times they’re sobbing as if their poor little hearts are going to break, because a favourite toy has been snatched or because one finished their snack before the other and why oh why can’t they share? They alternate between hitting and hugging, giggling and yelling. Emma wakes up some mornings and goes looking around the house for “Kota”, sounding wobegone and forlorn. And then when he does come over to play, she yells at him and smacks him at the first opportunity.
It’s beyond understanding.
I got thinking about the friendships in my life and how understandable they are. And I came to realize just how rich in friendships I am right now. I once defined myself by my loneliness and feelings of isolation, and that definition simply doesn’t fit anymore.
Growing up, I was often morose over the lack of a best friend. This lack may be explained by my use of words like “morose.” I was a shy, mousy little thing…uncertain and aloof. I never got to experience the giggling camaraderie of best friendship. The TV shows and movies I watched often incorporated this ideal, as did the books I read. What was so abhorrently wrong with me that I didn’t have someone like that in my life? Again, I’m thinking the big words might have had something to do with it.
In elementary school, I was inducted into a girl gang. There were four of us and we were inseperable. For some reason that was never adequately explained, all the treats from my lunch were forfeit to the other girls. When we plamed games, I was “it”every, single, time. I helped them with their homework.
And I was grateful. That’s the sickening and sad part of it. I was so pathetically grateful to have friends that I’d go along with anything. They even came to my house and told me that I was doing too well in class and that I had to stop trying so hard and making them look bad or they wouldn’t be my friends any more. How is it that mere nine year old girls were so perceptive? How did they know they could get away with it?
That experience affected me for more years than I care to admit. It’s only recently that I’ve stopped letting leftover misery and bitterness from that time poison my life. I’ve realized that it doesn’t hurt those girls for me to be harbouring a grudge. It only hurts me.
And now, I am rich in friends. I’m always behind in my e-mailing and phoning and mailing because I love so many wonderful people who touch my life in a myriad of ways. There’s DD, Angela, Kate, Melissa, Beth, Jane, Jo, Tiffany, Nicole, Lisa and Jared, Mollie, Stephanie, Ron and Donna, Noel and Lora, Carol-Ann, Brandi and Dave, Suzanne, Joanne…and then there’s Lara, Amanda, Julie, and so many other lovely gals I’m in the process of getting to know through their blogs.
And that’s not even including family - most especially my Mom who is one of my greatest supports in life. I often brag about how lucky I am to have her, a mother I not only love, but like and respect as well.
And speaking of the mother-daughter friendship, I’m off to strengthen mine with my girls, who are stirring from their naps.
I’d like to say something superbly flowery to close off, but can only say to all of you reading this…
Thank You.
Oct
30
Posted by Kym
Our family collects ducks.
Perhaps I should have listed this in my 10 Weird Things About Me post, but really, it’s all about my dear sweet crazy hubby, Neil.
During Neil’s first year of Optometry school, he and his classmates had a pretty rough go of it. They thought they had this University thing down pat, but graduate school was a different thing altogether.
Neil compared it to being asked to drink from a fire hydrant. The amount of information they were expected to assimilate was staggering.
Different students coped in different ways. Some went out and got drunk (among other things, I’m sure), some turned to computer games, some golfed. And a select few…okay, just the one, scavenged in the local thrift stores for yellow ducky paraphenilia. He also collected hand puppets, but the duckies were the real joy for him.
Now it should be pointed out that we were at this point in time, childless. We had more stuffed animals (and a variety of other toys), than some of our friends who had one or more children. I think that when Emma came along, some people must have wondered did we have her just to stop all the gossip about “That Weird Family…you know, the ones with all the toys but no kids. I know…so strange…”
Neil even had a favourite duck named Percy, who came with him to school whenever he had an exam to write. He was his “Good Luck Duck”, and Neil quickly became somewhat infamous for his odd prediliction. However, his tendency to pass his exams soon gained him a small following who would come and rub Percy for good luck before every test. Academics aren’t quite as superstitious as athletes, but they have their moments.
We’ve stopped collecting ducks, having enough to decorate about half a dozen bathrooms. Our entire main bathroom is plastered with rubber duck paraphenlia. We have the shower curtain, the toilet seat cover, the bath mats, decals and hand soap dispenser. There’s a nail brush in the shape of a duck, a bath pillow, two pouffies, a faucet cover, a toothbrush holder and even a toilet paper roll holder. It’s almost frightening, and bright enough to blind.
Every time I pick up a duck it’s like picking up a bit of history. Remembering when and where we found it…or who gave it to us as a gift, grinning like mad because they knew we’d love it. The duck in the picture with Becca was a gift from my father, who rightly decided that Becca should have a duck of her own. There was a lot of eye rolling on the part of my mother, but Becca loved that duck uso much it made me laugh out loud. She rolled around with it and chewed on its beak till it was sopping wet. It is a much loved duck.
It was once bigger than her, and I find myself measuring her by the duck. She towers above it now, grinning her cheery grin…and I am saddened to think how much bigger than that duck she will one day be.
Oct
29
Posted by Kym
I’ve been accused of letting this blog suffer in favour of my new one, and alas, the accusations ring true. I’m very focused on my health right now, and the fact that I’m not doing enough to improve it.
I also didn’t want to post anything new too soon, as I loved my 10 Weird Things post and I didn’t want it to get lost in the shuffle. Have you all read it and basked in the weirdness that is Kim? Good, then we can move on.
I was writing in my health blog and realized that I might as well post my thought for the day here as well. Yes, it would be lovely if I could come up with a different thought for my main blog, but attempts at doing so have failed miserably. How sad to only have one thought to share out of the entirety of my day.
I really need to get out of the house more.
I need to get organized and start meal planning again. I really got into that groove awhile back, but it seems like forever ago. I’d do a week long meal plan, and then a shopping list based on that meal plan. It worked well. I’d even write on the calendar what every evening’s meal was going to be, so Neil could look and I’d feel more committed to following through. I’ve a bad habit of letting my good habits dissolve whenever life gets even the least bit stressful. I’ve this sudden mental picture of a pile of my good habits dissolving into a hissing pile of goo like the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz. “Help meeee, I’m mellllting!”
Any idea how to jumpstart the brain? I think I need to peruse the local library on Monday. Reading a good book for the seventh time just isn’t intellectually stimulating. Any suggestions for broadening my horizons a bit?
Oct
23
Posted by Kym
Thanks for the tag Lara. As a kid I was always the last one picked in gym class - I feel like one of the cool kids now!
The Wyrdness that is Kym:
1) I have Split Personality Disorder. There’s Kimmy, but don’t call her that. She’s a rather grouchy kid, a little on the over-sensitive side, and quite determined never to grow up. There’s Kim, who’s a pretty happenin’ gal. She’s witty and self-confident, outgoing and assertive. Everybody loves Kim. And there’s Kimberly, who’s the world-weary, shy and retiring one. Let’s just say that if you write me and I don’t write back, it’s her fault.
You think I’m making this all up, don’t you?
2) I’ve always thought it kind of weird that I can’t do anything weird with my body. I can’t fold my tongue or wiggle my ears. I can’t touch my nose with the tip of my tongue or manipulate my joints in abnormal ways. I can’t even flare my nostrils really wide. I have a boring body. Weird, eh?
3) I have a mild case of hypochondria. I grew up incredibly shy and timid, and I think this translated into an attention-seeking behaviour later in life. I did say a “mild case” though. I don’t go around worrying that a headache is actually a brain tumour, or that a leg cramp is deep vein thrombosis or anything along those lines. I just tend to whinge and whine and look things up on the internet and worry a lot.
4) When I judge, I am judged. Okay, so this is beyond weird because it’s happened twice in my life and I’m waiting for number three. I used to think people who were overweight were silly - why not just lose the weight? I mean, come on, right? Bam - fifty extra pounds. That’ll teach me. And I thought people who were “depressed” (yup, I used invisible quotation marks and everything, heaven help me), were just looking for attention. Bam - I’ve been diagnosed with post partum depression. It’s been the scariest, guiltiest, most horribly instructive experience of my life. So I figure I’ve got to stop being judgmental or who knows what will happen next. Maybe falling in line with #3 I’ll come down with some horrible terminal disease.
That’ll teach me.
5) I’m Canadian. I use the letter “u” indiscriminately in my spelling.
6) I love my parents and I like them too! And no, I’m not just writing that because my mom reads my blog. Anyway, my parents are awesome. Sadly, loving, liking, admiring and respecting your parental unit tends to be classified as “weird” in this crazy world of ours.
7) I go square dancing once a week for my date night with my hubby. I spend half the night wishing my legs were as shapely as the 50-80 years olds we dance with. I even admired one lady in particular, and was told by someone that she had a hip replacement 6 months ago. I need to work out more.
8) I have an oversensitive gag reflex. I tried crest whitestrips a year ago, and promptly threw up into the sink. Is that too much information? One of my dearest friends now has much whiter teeth because of my abnormality.
9) I don’t have a TV in my living room.
10) I loooove to talk on the phone but I hate phoning people. I suffer from tele-neuroticness. I build up scenarios in my mind, wherein my phone call interrupts all manner of important business and life events. And then I chicken out, and don’t phone. Or I purposely phone when I know people won’t be home, so I can talk to their voice mail or answering machine instead.
So, in conclusion, if you didn’t know I was weird, ya sure as heck do now.
And I tag:
Beth,
Kate,
and Amanda!
Your turn to show off your weirdness!
Oct
20
Posted by Kym
I’ve started a new blog, since I don’t want to clutter this one up. I invite any and all to join the crowd over at
To Health and Happiness
The more people checking up on me, the more motivation to behave myself. Please help me get skinny!
Oct
19
Posted by Kym
Emma and I spent two glorious hours playing outside today. We kicked balls around the driveway, swung on the swingset, and explored the pasture beyond our back fence. We took turns chasing each other till we crested a small hill and took in the view of the nearby lake. Our neighbours’ dog Blazer frolicked along with us, and Emma shouted to her periodically. “Blazer! Blazer! C’mon!”
We had a tickle fight in the prickly brown grass, chased a spider, counted leaves, and laughed ourselves silly.
Even the lovely sound of the wind in the trees and autumnal showers of leaves falling all around us, couldn’t compare in beauty to the sound of Emma laughing.
Some days I grumble around the house thinking I could do with more time off and maybe a pay raise as well. But on days like today, those thoughts fade away, and I am content.
Oct
16
Posted by Kym
I have two incredibly adorable little girls. I’m not posting a giggly grinning picture of them just to show off the fact though. It was the best way I could think of to start this post…to say how happy and how sad I am that there isn’t a third on the way yet.
We thought that we had had an “oops”…but you know how the home pregnancy tests boast that they’re 99% accurate? Well, it turns out that I’m the 1%.
I feel so special.
The last few days have been difficult. A lot of struggling with conflicting feelings. Neil and I decided to be happy (if a little stressed) about the news. We realized that we’re well able to welcome another child into our home, and that if that’s what Heavenly Father had in store for us, we were prepared to embrace the idea gladly.
Not that there weren’t some tears shed on my part. I had hoped so much that I could overcome my weight issues before having another child, and having all hope of that stripped from me was very difficult.
And now, that hope is restored. I feel some sense of loss and sadness, yes, but for the most part I feel relief and excitment. I’ve been given a second chance. A chance to recommit to good health and all that goes with.
So when baby number three does come along, he or she will be welcomed by a happier, healthier mother. And Emma and Rebecca, my darling girls, will continue to be my ever present sources of motivation.
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