Life and Other Drugs

Last night, I held a human heart in my hands.

It was both an interesting and humbling experience. As I continue to learn more about anatomy and physiology, I think about the minutiae involved in just maintaining life. All of the tiny cells, working together to make up tissues, organs, organisms...

Life itself is precious; just to be alive. Breathing. Existing.

And how much more so, is the soul!

On Disclosure

Dear Distant Relative,

So it’s been 15 years? It was nice catching up with you. My favourite part was when you said, “Of course I’ve been keeping up with you, because you post every detail of your life on Facebook. Ha ha!”

Of course I didn’t say it out loud, but my eyes said, “Bitch, please.”

You see what I want you to see. I don’t post never-ending updates on what I’m having for lunch, where I’m going, what I’m doing, how I’m feeling. The most you’ll get is some comedy gold from my children, maybe a rant, or shameless promotion for a friend or business I like.

Did you know that I went through a nasty divorce? That’s because I didn’t mention it. Not a word.

I’m in my second year of college, and I’m kicking major ass. I’m going to be a Registered Nurse. Dean’s List, bitches!

I bet you didn’t notice when I withdrew from society. My friends joke that I’m like a ghost! I had voluntarily put myself into seclusion; took myself out of my life so that I could finally begin to live it. That’s not going to change anytime soon, so you’re going to have to read carefully. But a lot of stuff has changed, hasn’t it? Even the way I look at the world has changed. I am altered, baby. Didn’t you hear?

You must have missed the part where I fell in love. I fell in love so hard that sometimes I want to crawl under his skin. I feel like doing Celine lunges, because words alone can’t express this feeling.

My heart will go on.

This is some Bella and Edward shiz, yo! I know I would usually scoff at some chick who spoke of her “profound and life-altering love” in this way. I would say that she is only telling her 500 closest Facebook friends because she is merely trying in vain to convince herself that she really is in love, and that he is “The One”. That’s not why I didn’t say anything. I didn’t say anything because it is my joy and my ultimate sorrow, this love.

Can you even begin to understand that this love is total agony? Did you know that I am torn apart every single day, because I can’t wake up next to him? I can’t see him, or touch him, or hear him laugh? I have to listen to my kids ask when they’re going to get to see him again, and I have to answer them, “I don’t know”? I really do not know. I have to do this without crying, without letting on that my heart is ripped in half every single day that I’m not with him.

I can barely breathe, or eat, or function, because this love is killing me from the inside out. In typical “me” fashion, I ended up screwing myself over by falling madly, desperately in love with a man who lives on the other side of the continent. Don’t even ask me how that happened, because as this gesture indicates, I keep everything important to myself. Are you getting the picture now?

It was nice catching up with you the other night and really, it’s wonderful and ground-breaking that you’re working from 10 until 4 and then stopping to get groceries after work. I love how you’re always, “Busy, busy, busy!” and how you write “lol” and the little smileys at the end of every sentence. Don’t change. Don’t ever change, but if you do... You know that if you go over the maximum allotted 420 characters, you can spill your excitement over into the comments. That way you don’t have to post five status updates in a row. Keep hitting that like button, though! Love it!

That’s all,

Twills
XOXO

Leaving the Nest

I totally forgot to update this! I took this picture the day before the baby birds finally flew away. I was sad to see them go, but glad to not wake up to incessant chirping in the wee hours of the morning!

I took this next one through the screen of one of the bathroom windows so it's not as clear but it's from a different angle so you can see their little bird mouths.

We haven't had any different kinds of birds move in yet, but I will be all over them with my camera if they do. Usually we get doves after the robins leave, which are my favourites!

That's all,

Twills

XOXO

Springy

A cool feature of our house is a ledge on the outside with a door to the inside so we can get up close and personal when birds build nests there. These were taken on May 20th shortly after hatching. I haven't wanted to disturb them too much to see if the last egg hatched or not, don't want to make mama bird angry or scared in case she abandons the babies.

That's all,

Twills

XOXO

She's Got Legs

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River Queen Rollin' On

I started my second season of roller derby on Sunday. I know that I'd meant to write more about it during last season but like anything you love this much, you want to protect it. To foster it and keep it safe from the rest of the world, while simultaneously wanting to shout from mountain tops about your love for it. Yet no words could ever come close to the actual reality.

That, my friends, is how much I love roller derby.

As someone who has always felt weak in my personal life, being able to put on some skates (and knee pads, elbow pads, wrist guards, helmet and the dreaded mouth guard), to get out there and have the chance to be strong and to be aggressive... The feeling is indescribable. I can't count the number of ways that derby has changed me.

I've never been athletic, to put it mildly. I'm a "lay down and read a book" person. Oh, the lengths I went to in order to evade my dreaded nemesis: sweat. I have sweat so much during practice that I've had rivulets rolling down my butt crack, y'all. And I didn't mind! I've worked out so hard that I had to swallow down puke. I've strained *parts* that I didn't even know were possible to strain. I've been bruised, bloody, aching, muscles shaking, parched, thinking that I couldn't possibly continue on... but I've kept going. I've given it one more lap, one more plank, one more drill, more, more, more. A hard way to find out that you're a fighter, but a lesson well learned.

I've always been self-conscious of my "thunder thighs", my "mothering hips", my broad shoulders, thought I had too much booty. I've referred to my body type as "chunky hourglass", I've abused it, have taken it for granted, have not cared about it as I should. But you know what? My thighs are strong for skating. My hips and ass are perfect for blocking and for pushing other bitches out of my way. My shoulders can carry a lot of weight both literally and figuratively. How is it that I made it to the age of 31 and am only now figuring out that I can be positive about my body and not only just accept it, but celebrate it?

This body is a temple now. I feed it right, I stretch it, I exercise more than just my brain and my mouth, I take what could be considered a meal of vitamins every day to make sure that my bones are strong for when they impact with the concrete floors that I skate on. Heck, I'm even ex-foliating and moisturizing more often! This body is going to last me for the rest of my life, God-willing, and it's going to be involved in roller derby for as long as it can keep up.

So you can maybe begin to understand now, how good I feel and how I want to just keep that to myself for a while before I let other people in?

That's all, (but there's so much more)

Twills

XOXO

The House That Built Me

My first house was put on the real estate market today. I have mixed feelings about this; I'm ready to move on, I'm ready to not be paying the bills there plus the bills where I am currently living. I will feel peace in knowing that there is yet another loose end that I'm tying into a neat little bow. Still, I can't help feel a little twinge of melancholy.

That house was the dream of a 23 year old spoiled princess. My small family of three moved in when I was full of idealistic folly with no real concept of homemaking whatsoever. How long it took me to learn how to manage laundry, toddler wrangling, scrubbing toilets and how not to turn everything in your pots and pans to sludge with one moment of inattention? Oh, the glamourous life of a House Milf! How many hours did I spend doing loads of laundry, bleary-eyed but accompanied by an OCD-like precision with an all-consuming fierceness in regards to wrinkle control? It took me years to be able to feel like I wasn't just "playing house".

Two of my babies were conceived and took their first steps there. The growth of my three boys was charted on one of the walls for seven long years. Cupcakes, dance parties, organic vegetable and herb gardens, wine and tea and always, always a place to stay for a stray friend in need for as long as was necessary. Every wall, every door, every patch of floor has its own story. The house that love built.

It's also the house of pain. The house of loneliness so crippling that even certain members of The Wiggles appeared to be sexually attractive. The house of unhappiness, of immaturity, of two people struggling and failing. It's also the house where love went to die.

I'm ready to pass my house on. Furthermore, after standing empty for nearly nine months, my house is ready to be loved again; to contain and foster love within its walls. The house that built me is ready to build another family. Our blood, sweat and tears can now become someone else's dream.

I went in wide-eyed and with a great belief in forever. I am coming out not quite a seasoned veteran, and still not yet jaded. My eyes are wide-open, sure; just not with the same naiveté. I still have a great hope for the future, it's just that I'm looking in a different direction. It feels good.

That's all,

Twills

XOXO