The butterfly effect

... a phrase that encapsulates the more technical notion of sensitive dependence on initial conditions in chaos theory. Small variations of the initial condition of a dynamical system may produce large variations in the long term behavior of the system. ... - Wikipedia

My boy woke up with a "severe" stomach ache on Monday morning. An ailment that I was expecting, as it was coincident with his first day of swimming lessons. It's something that I've become accustomed to. Firsts. Nerves will do it to him every time. Even though he is an amazing swimmer for his age, he has doubts about his abilities, and the nerves are bad enough that they manifest into a physical ache for him. It has resulted in screaming matches, crying fits, and outright defiance. Despite the fact that underneath it all, he knows he can do it.

This time, I was prepared with my pep talk. As I rubbed his back during his refusal to get out of bed, I told him how confident I was of him. I mentioned that it was just fine to be nervous, even though there wasn't anything he needed to worry about. It was normal that he was fearful of the unknown.

"What if the instructor's mean?"

"Well, I highly doubt he/she will be mean. All your instructors to date have been great teenagers..."

"But Mom, I can't keep a five pound brick up while treading for two minutes! It's so heavy! I haven't had swimming lessons for six months!"

"Well, they won't necessarily make you do that on the first day, they'll work you up to it. Don't worry, Mom and G will be watching and if you really can't handle it, just let the teacher know and I'll come get you. You can tell your teacher you haven't swam in six months and that you're rusty...did you want Mom to tell them?"

"No, don't you tell them, NOOOOO, don't!"

"I won't then. But no worries, even if you don't pass this time you've got four years to do it before you go onto the next level anyway. Give it a try, okay? It's just important that you keep your skills up, swimming is very important. And you can do it."

"Okay Mom."

My brave boy then combatted his fears, and tamed the butterflies that were wreaking havoc on his insides. He got out of bed and got ready for his lessons.

Later on at the pool, I saw him disappear into the water and resurface, dark goggles and teeth shining as he grinned from ear to ear. He was in fine form.

*****

Over the last three weeks I've been enjoying some wonderful family time. An escape from a decision that has the potential to be lifestyle altering. Since I've been home, I've been living with some butterflies of my own. Knowing that I just had to push a button to release from "pause", the process toward becoming a full-time career mom.

As I sent the e:mail to my friend the head hunter, to notify him of my return to reality, it felt like I was flapping my own little butterfly wing.

Who knows what will happen next? I can only hope that it will be a positive turning point in my life, our lives. And that this forward motion will be toward some good chaos.

Can chaos be good?

Again, one can hope.

The most important job

It was only supposed to be for a couple of years. After all, it had been a long, almost ten year journey to become parents of two. Staying at home with them during the early precious baby years, when I could also cherish quality time with my preschooler boy. It was a no brainer.

Then she was a toddler, with so many things to do, so many programs to experience. With her Mommy.

'Maybe when she's in school', I said to myself.

Now she's in school. And that "couple" of years? Has morphed into over four.

*****

The man's travel for work has picked up again. The last time he came home, he was so happy to see us, and he made a point of giving me an extra bit of TLC (along with the Lady Godivas) by telling me that I'm the one doing the most important job. I'm the parent at home with the kids. He's just bringing home the money.

I appreciated that. I really did. And he's doing a lot more than just that.

So I'm torn.

You see, I've always been a career gal. Even when I was a young girl, I envisioned working full time, outside of the home after I had my family. It was the model I grew up in; it was what I aspired to. Not just a job, but a career, with a path and succession planning. I did it after I had my son. I never even contemplated being a stay-at-home mom. Not until I became pregnant with the girl, and the company situation presented itself. It just made sense NOT to work. The career, in the whole scheme of things, was not as important. And truth be told, there's not much I can complain about this whole at home gig.

I have this colleague, though, who I'll call "headhunter". Who's good at what he does. In fact, he's great. I've used his services over the years and have found great people from him. He keeps tabs on me, he calls me up regularly to get a pulse of where my head is at, if and when I'm planning to hit the career trail again. And up until now, it's been easy to say, "not quite yet; I'm still looking for that work-life balance..." I have been lucky too, that I've had a few work projects over the last couple of years.

But the headhunter has done it now. He's presented me with an interesting opportunity. Close to home, perhaps not as fast-paced as what I'd had before. Something that might be worth investigating, if only to brush up my resume and practice my interview skills.

So my head is spinning. I should just go for the experience, right? There's no pressure, it's not like I'm absolutely needing this job. The scenarios are already flying around in my mind, though, all the "what if's". What if the interview goes well and it's something I might want to jump back into? What if it's such an amazing company and culture that I can't turn away. What if they DON'T want to hire me, what about that?

And what about my kids and their care? They're not ready for me to go back. Would we need a nanny? Am I actually ready to go back; but what if I don't and I wait too long? What about wanting to do my own thing, drumming up more of my own business so I can avoid the daily grind? The appeal of a regular paycheque, of again using my brain, education and experience is there. But then the reality of having to deal with management headaches and potential travel also needs to be factored into the equation. Do I even want to go there?

Hubs thinks I should look into it, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He's fine with whatever I want to do.

My head just hurts. This is supposed to be summer vacation isn't it? Why isn't it fun yet?

*****

And here is a pretty song, just because I like it...

Picking up sticks

I had a physiotherapy appointment this morning, to strengthen the knee that collapsed during the biggest nightmare of my life. There's nothing quite like having your body fail you while watching your father slip away.

I finally got organized, and let's face it, woke myself out of this slumpy fog that I've plopped myself into the last three months. Wishing and hoping that it would get better on its own was not exactly working.

The good news is that the ligaments are intact and there's no permanent damage. Bodyjam is NOT forever out of my grasp - whew! And the ladies at the clinic didn't think I looked like I was in my 40s (although I think it's fairly easy to look young when you're in the company of 60-70 year olds.) It's better to look good than to feel good, right? I wish, as I don't think I'm doing so hot in either department these days.

The bad news is that I have lost muscle in that leg. And apparently I also have flat feet (a friend told me this wasn't uncommon after pregnancy. Who knew, I thought my shoe size grew because my feet were getting fatter). After this morning's session, it's also apparent that I've lost a lot of respiratory strength. Five minutes on bike, five minutes of lunges, five minutes of balance board and five minutes of jumping on a mini trampoline (albeit, on one leg) equals a whole lot of huffing and puffing that just about KILLED me.

So I've made up my mind. Pre-the period of drama known as winter 2008, my regular routine included exercise. I went to the gym at least three times a week. I didn't realize how much I needed the normalcy of this routine to keep me going and to keep me emotionally stable. To keep it going for my kids, for my family, for my husband, but most importantly for me.

It was easy for me to slip into the cloud of self-pity. Whenever people ask me how I've been (at appointments, with people I hadn't run into in a while), my standard issue, "Oh, actually everything has sucked, I've had two gall bladder attacks, I wrecked my knee, my Dad was diagnosed with Stage IV cancer and died 10 weeks ago"... was making people feel decidedly uncomfortable and wondering why they had asked me in the first place. I must stop doing that.

I'm tired of being tired. After spending an evening with a difficult to watch, but infinitely inspirational DVD last night, I have no excuses for NOT getting back into life. Really getting back into life.

Not being able to get in the car or go up the stairs without fear of an uncomfortable twinge in my knee? Try waking up three weeks after a massive stroke and only being able to move ONE EYELID!! And then having the tenacity to use an ingenious method of communication developed by your therapist, to communicate and then dictate your memoirs, one letter at a time, and live to see it published only days before your death.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (Le scaphandre et le papillon). See it.

My sticks scattered this past winter. I need to pick them up. Be grateful for what I have, for what I am capable of, for the NOW.

And with the help of my daughter and the rest of the family, we might even build a better picture for tomorrow.

So should you blog when you're angry?

Probably not. But I'm going to anyway.

You know my last post? Well, here I was, ready to go all lovey-dovey. I had even come up with a solution. Just blog while in the same room with the man if we're watching TV. His show.

But then he went out to watch a movie last night. Without me. (Which, you know, he's certainly entitled to do after a long week at the office).

And when he went out to get a DVD to watch tonight, he brought home the newest Rambo. Because apparently there was nothing else there (he did phone me), and he wanted to watch it. Knowing full well that I HATE those movies. Pretty much spelled the evening out for me, don't cha think?

So I sat down in the family room with him to blog, while screaming emanated from the TV, accompanied by exploding huts and flying, bloodied, Asian bodies littered the screen.

"What are you doing here; if it bugs you so much, why are you sitting there and complaining!" (which I wasn't, complaining I mean). So I picked up my laptop and left the room.

I'll likely regret this post later, but screw it.

I'm keeping it really real.

It's Saturday night, and I'm bloghopping with my boyfriends and girlfriends.

That anniversary weekend better work wonders.

(Edited to add: he paused the show to come pour me more wine; maybe I'll be less mad while drunk?!)

Blog Confessional

"So, you're not having an online affair or anything are you?"

"WHAT?!! NO!!!! "

"Because if you were, we could work through it. I would work through it with you..." **

"What would make you think that, anyway?! As if I would do that, there's no one else."

"Well, why else would you be up until 1:30 AM so often. Makes me wonder".

Awwwww, sh*t. The things that a little drinking will unleash in the wee hours of a Sunday morning.

Catching up on blogs, plurking, buzzing, getting back to internet speed after being on holiday ... it's started to affect my marriage. Not a good thing. Despite the time difference factor that was keeping me up later at night, it was still not a good excuse.

So, if you haven't already noticed, the posts will not be as frequent over the next little while.

Instead, I'll be doing the following:

-hopefully avoiding further speeding tickets while I chauffeur the rest of the week;
-spend some quality time with the kids after daycamp this week,
-shop for a new wardrobe for my guy as he's purged his closet
-locate a light fixture for the kitchen so we can finish the darn renovation before the start of the next decade
-source new cabinetry for the laundry/utility room
-enjoy the few weeks of vacation my husband has booked this summer and
-focus on him during our anniversary getaway in August

That's what counts. I need to get more real.

Because HE** is what is real. And I am so lucky.