I frequently fret over lost time.  I am very unlike other women where I take time for myself and read a good book daily (not an entire book daily – on occasionally – but actually sit down to read on a daily basis), so I don’t mean those kind of moments that you can never get back.  I mean the little ones in your kids’ or family’s life that are forever treasured, that you’d sell your soul to have a camcorder ready (did I just use the term camcorder? shit I’m old).

I’ve mentioned before that my memory of time is crappy … at least I think it is … what was I saying?  Anyway, that crappy memory always comes back to haunt me when I’m in the midst of family who is joyfully renditioning some silly thing I did or some event in our lives that I cannot for-the-life-of-me remember.

I don’t get remorseful or truly upset about those times.  But I am sorely going to miss those little moments in my kids’ lives that I can’t get back.  Sweet Pea has been extra cuddly lately and after a good cuddle with me he scootched down to the floor, layed on his belly and his knees with his bum in the air and his sweet little face pressed sideways into the floor.  It was the cutest thing, and of course at moments like those, an amateur like me doesn’t have a camera handy so I have to rely on my memory for those moments.  But my memory is highly unreliable.

Crapola memory aside, it sure would be nice to be able to somehow capture those moments that are seemingly unforgettable.  You know, those times when your 18 m/o puts a bra ovre his head, or when he drinks out of the toilet, or when your 8 y/o barters with her cheapo father about the payment due for shovelling heavy snow, or when you find your 10 y/o lost in a book in the most uncomfortable position you can think of.  Those moments are the moments that are lost forever, but a camera behind your forehead would be so handy.

I feel like there is so much I’ve missed of their lives, even though I was standing right there, I can’t just rewind the tape to review it, it’s gone, the moment has passed by.  This is when you truly realize that they grow up so fast, it just flashes by your eyes and in a moment, your infant son is 18 months old and signing for milk at you.

Missing those moments won’t keep me from watching them occur, but it would be so nice to be able to recall them.

My first cold in 2 years is turning out to be a doozy.  Sinus pain, snotty nose complete with soreness from blowing so often, headache, watery eyes (almost sounds like allergy, but it’s not, it’s most likely from the sinus issue).  I have no doubts that the headache could be from a bit of dehydration from all the freakin’ fluids leaking out of my face.

Isn’t it fun reading other people’s blogs, you get all the nitty-gritty information you never thought you’d have about a complete stranger.

I’m going to spend most of the day in bed.  Why?  Because I want to.

Goodnight sweetheart.

Where is home to you?  Does it matter really so much?  I would think that a safe existence with a solid house would be all one could ask for.

There’s a story in our town about a family from a foreign country in dire straights as they are about to be deported to their home country.  The story goes that they fled the country because of a threat on their existence from a political side of the coin and it isn’t likely that they could’ve just moved a couple of cities away in order to stay safe, so they came here.  They came here eight years ago and claimed refugee status immediately.  The way our system seems to work though is you have to prove it.  The country itself wasn’t the problem as it isn’t in true turmoil (like say Afghanistan, etc), but something of a more personal nature.  They were denied that first claim for lack of proof, so they applied another way.

I’m having a lot of trouble with this story and there is only one reason why.  The media.  I loathe media-venues for retrieving knowledge as the knowledge is often tainted and skewed so as to read a certain way.  But isn’t that the same thing about everything you read?  It’s a personalized opinion made to seem like fact and it turns my stomach thinking that the truth is something I have to unearth from the supposed facts presented.

Supposedly, this family’s lawyer was murdered shortly after they left, but yet a supposed search by immigration found no such lawyer to exist.  Supposedly they were in great danger when living there, but supposedly their son returned shortly after and is living there in peace.

I hate the thought of ’supposeds’ as it puts doubt in my minds as to the validity of the story and I will never know if the tax dollars I pay will be used to forcefully remove this man, or to decide to let him stay here.  Just an FYI he has a job and his employer loves him to pieces.

Then there’s the question of ‘what the hell is wrong with that’?

I’ve heard many arguments about ‘letting’ too many immigrants in because it puts a huge strain on our resources while these people sit on social assistance having babies.  Give me a break, that is only a ‘truth’ set out there by a racist person hell-bent on spreading hatred.  Next they’ll be spouting off about how these immigrants want the anthem translated officially into their own language, something that is completely untrue (check snopes people please before sending me that bloody email again!). Or here’s another big one; that they will take the jobs from the ones here.  Uh no, if you aren’t willing to work (and actually work, not sit on your ass with a cushy union job) for a certain amount of money, and someone else is, that’s the way it works.  They aren’t taking your job, they are accepting a position you were too good to take and turned down.  And if they are taking your job it’s because they do it BETTER than you!

*ahem* sorry.  Moving on.

These people are coming here because they want a better life, simple as that.  They aren’t here to turn out country into their old one, that again is just a hatred based assumption because they want to keep their culture (although turbans in the RCMP and religious swords in school are the exception to that idea, but that’s another blog post in itself).

Why close the doors to immigration?  What would truly happen?  Would we truly turn out like our Southern compadres with racism flourishing toward ‘lesser’ fortunate?

I haven’t come to any conclusion on this family for myself.  I know it’s because he has a job that I don’t think any less of him, he is helping society as much as he is drawing from it.  I am just so torn on my opinions because I don’t know the absolute truths about the story, will never garner it from the media, and cannot truly know what would happen if we ‘allowed’ immigrants to enter easier.  I just don’t know and I hate that I don’t know.

I do hope this family the best in whatever comes their way.  Their situation has been extended short term until it can be reviewed again, most likely because the media got a hold of it.

I never used to think of myself as calm, rational, serene, etc., nor any other form of the word that comes to mind has ever been used to describe my core.  But lately I’ve been seeing more and more of my calmness, my lethargy if you will, sprouting through a fairly controlled exterior.

That’s not to say that excitement, vigilance, or impatience never seeps through, as that would be a bold faced lie, but I haven’t been getting as hyper vigilant as I had in the past about things going on in my life.

Take the seizure business.  I’m concerned, but I often wonder if I’m much too calm for something as serious in nature as this.  Truth be told, my thoughts the other day on bringing Sweet Pea to a doctor stemmed more from the fact that it’s what I should do, but not truly what I wanted to do.  I’m being brutally honest when I say here that I don’t trust in a doctor to actually search for the truth behind the cause without turning him into a human pharmacopoeia.  I don’t believe in testing for issues by seeing which drugs sedate him enough.  So I resist.

Homeschooling is another thing.  I am not a spirited, intense teacher to my kids who ensures that every moment at home is spent in the midst of text books.  Do you know what we did this morning?  I read the first 12 chapters of Midnight Sun on Ms. Meyer’s blog while the girls read their books.  We were all engrossed in our prospective novels and instead of saying, ‘girls you must stop reading in order to focus on such-and-such subject’, we instead read to the end of our books (except Bing, she’s in a doozy long one – Inkheart – that she can’t keep her nose out of).  I roll like that it seems.

I’m finding more and more events in my life not having the affect on me that they should.  I become nonchalant, complacent and take the relaxed road until things work out, and they invariably do work out.  I just wonder if this is a temporary change or if when a bigger event comes along (like adoption) will my lethargicness quickly switch to the ever in-your-face of my olden days?

I’m kind of liking it though.  It makes my days happier, every moment seems to be calmer, even those where my kids are trying my patience.  Some days where I think ‘if I hear MOM or Ma one more time I’ll break’, I still retain that sense of leisure.

I’ll keep it for now.  I’ll even use it until it becomes a burden to someone else, you know, when I’m too nonchalant to make sure the laundry is done and groceries are bought… kidding.