Pink Day

This past week, my kids' school promoted Pink Day, or Anti-Bullying Day, or Pink Shirt Day. Here in Canada, students (or everyone, really) wear a pink shirt (or anything pink) to show their support against bullying. It was begun a few years ago by two Nova Scotian teens who got their student body to all wear pink to rally with a male classmate who was bullied for wearing a pink shirt. It has become a wonderful national symbol.
Now, my kids are very conscious of how they treat others--I've raised them to be so. As someone who was severely bullied, I wanted to make sure they not only treat others with respect, but also have the confidence to stand up against such treatment--to themselves or others.
With regards to my son, I'm not worried...yet. He's full of innocent confidence, and regularly points out to others, even strangers, if he feels someone is being mistreated. He does it so often, that when he was recently thanked for such an act, he couldn't remember the instance! I do feel, however, that such confidence will dissipate with time (and puberty) and it's something I'm going to have to watch for. Among inheriting my eyes, love of books, and outgoing nature, my son also inherited my nasty ability to let people walk all over me.
My daughter is who I'm watching with this right now. She is still so young, and still finding out so much about the nature of people. While she has no problem identifying when someone has been wronged, she has a problem expressing herself to them.
"I was bullied once at afterschool care, Mom," she told me the other day as we were discussing Pink Day.
"Oh, really? What happened?" I asked, (visions of my terror-filled days of being bullied running through my mind)
"I was coloring and a bigger girl came and took my markers."
"What did you say to her?"
"Nothing."
"Why not? You just let her take them?"
"Yes," she shrugged.
I'll admit, I was a little relieved. While my sweet little girl is a joy, she can also being a fiery ball of fury. Part of me is waiting for the phone call that someone wronged my girl, and she responded by laying them out. But I need her to know that her words are just as powerful (if not more so) than her fists.
"Maybe next time something like that happens, you should say something to the person," I suggest to her, "tell that person you were using those markers, and that you would be happy to share, but that maybe they should ask before taking something that someone is using." She did her super cute "stare-
up-and-to-the-left" that she does when she is absorbing new info, so I know it stuck.
I grew up with an older brother who had me boxing with him after supper every night, so I certainly knew how to use my fists, but I never became comfortable with using my words as weapons. I wish I had.
So cheers to Pink Day, and here's hoping that every day will become like Pink Day, where bullies are outed regularly, and the world finally understands that bullying--at any age, and with words or weapons--will not, and should not EVER be tolerated<3

-Kel

A Sad World

I recently had a melancholy day.
My morning was spent running various errands for various purposes. It seemed that every store and interaction I had involved someone who was ignorant, or self-involved, or just plain rude.

As someone who believes in good manners and positivity, it was disheartening for me. I continue to be flabbergasted by people who choose to live their lives in a way that slowly eats away at them. And I just feel pity for people who are so self-involved that they aren't even aware of their ignorance.

Example: In the line-up at the local Big Bad Grocery Store, the lady in front of me asks the cashier how long she is working today:
Cashier, dead-eyed: "10 hours."
Ingnorant Lady: "What!? That's crazy!"
Cashier shrugs: "Gotta pay the bills."
Ignorant Lady, as she pays with one of her myriad of credit cards from her Coach purse: "Well, that is just stupid. You should just find a better paying job with shorter hours."

I locked eyes with the cashier at this point, and shook my head, eyebrows raised. I mean, where the hell do people like this come from??

At the same store, my shopping cart and I were cornered by receiving boxes and bins, and the fellow unpacking product glanced at me briefly before sighing dramatically and moving his stuff. And we're not talking about a moody kid, either. Buddy was a manager. Middle-aged. After I thanked him as I passed, I received not a peep. He didn't even look at me.

At every other store I visited, the staff just seemed miserable. Is no one doing anything they enjoy anymore? Are we all just slaves to our debt? I just can't live my life like that. I mean, if the majority of our time is spent at our jobs, shouldn't that job give us some joy or sense of accomplishment? I know that it is hard to find joy in some jobs, but finding something, ANYTHING in even the most mundane tasks that can bring you some sense of joy just might save you.

Everyone has a bad day once in a while, but living every other day with purpose and passion should be everyone's goal. I mean, what's the point otherwise?

So I challenge you: live your life purposefully. Live it with passion. Find joy in anything. Hell, find joy in everything! Smile at strangers. Hug your friends more. Share your dreams. Ask about others' dreams. And love freely. Always, love.

Whoops...

Whoa. How have more than 2 months passed since I wrote on my blog?! I mean, I'm flabbergasted. Seriously.
So let's backtrack:

NaNoWriMo finished up without fanfare, I'm afraid. I only hit 31,007 words, as I stalled a bit once
my characters started doing things I didn't expect. This has certainly happened before with stories, but I was on a strict outline to meet my 50K and didn't allow myself the luxury of changing lanes on that. As a result, I let my MC run away with things to see where she would go, and I'm finding it very interesting. Unfortunately, exploring that went slowly, and I missed my goal. Ah, well. At least I didn't have the lowest word count among my trio, so I was treated to a lovely sushi dinner with my BFF's. Thanks, Shereney<3 And a massive congrats to my girl Chris, on surpassing 50K for the first time! You go, girl!

December brought a few things, including the usual craziness of Christmas and illnesses that bombard our house every year. Before that, though, we celebrated my son's 8th(!!!) birthday. He and his friends had a great time, I think. We had a party at the movie theater, where the kids got to play video games on the big screen. They took turns playing the game and running around the theater. Evan also asked for the chocolate-iest chocolatey chocolate cupcakes so I baked him chocolate-chip ones, filled with chocolate mouse, topped with chocolate icing and chocolate sprinkles. They were diabetes-inducing:) He also asked for donations instead of gifts for the 3rd year, and raised almost $300 for the Edmonton Humane Society. Was an awesome day!

I also had the opportunity to take my daughter to her first ballet! It was so much fun - she was super excited! We went with my Mom, so it was three generations of lovely ladies in our family. We saw the Nutcracker, and Ella just loved it. And the Alberta Ballet put on an incredible show, while the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra played beautifully.

We were very fortunate to have a plentiful holiday, with many gifts, friends, and family. Last years Christmas felt like it slipped right by, and I didn't want that again - I love Christmas! So this year we decorated loads, had gifts under the tree to tantalize the kids, and planned a big family dinner with my husband's family. It was a lovely few weeks:) What sucked was catching everyone's germs. I ended up with Strep throat, my sister-in-law got pneumonia, and the hubby's uncle caught some terrible flu/cold thing. Ah, the holidays.



I will leave you there for now, as 2015 is already bringing exciting things, and I don't want to bore you with a massive post;)

Cheers,
Kel

Day One in the Bag

So as like every November for the past decade or so, I participate in the "ain't nobody got time for that" writing competition, NaNoWriMo. For anyone who doesn't know of it, it is a crazy-fun, worldwide writing incentive with a goal to write 50,000 words in the month of November. Some people use it to help get even a few thousand words onto a page, others just barely slide into the 50,000 word winners seat, others still will devote a month and go hardcore, producing a manuscript over 100,000 words in less than a month.
And the competition has evolved from a fledgling group of people in San Francisco nudging people online to get writing, to a well-funded organization with major prize sponsors and author celebrities writing inspirational blog posts urging on participants. I remember when the 50,000 words was the prize, and now there are publishing and book prizes out the wazoo for writers who can do the deed.
My friends and I always have a mini competition between us, as well. Between the three of us, whoever writes the least amount of words has to buy dinner for the other two. Plus, this year, one of my friends' sister is joining in and she has waaaay more time on her hands, so the ante is really up;)
Yesterday was day one and it went well - I was able to hit my personal goal of 1800 words. Aside from spending the last couple weeks preparing an outline, I also printed and put up a bunch of fun inspirational quotes to keep me motivated. (Yesterday's was the one on the right there:)
More importantly, this month is going to be about me. I've had a hard time staying positive, as writing is part of me, and anyone is going to be unhappy when they aren't doing what they are meant to be doing. So rather than approaching NaNo as something I don't have time for, I'm approaching it as something I'm making time for. Making time for my happiness.
It's about time:)
P.S. If you are battling the NaNo this year, add me as a Writing Buddy! I'm on the site under my maiden name - user KellyChristian. See you on the writing trail!

Booksies!

I've been feeling rather empty lately for a number of reasons, one of which is a lack of time to read! It's frustrating that all the things that bring light to our lives are often the ones that must be pushed to the side when we are too busy.
Thus, not too many books to list since my last reading post:

The Mieville I was reading was sadly set aside as one of my favorite authors' new book came out! It had been a while since her last one in this series, so I was really excited!!!
The third and final in the Shadowfell series, I found The Caller to be a little less...well, just a little less, I suppose. I don't know if she was distracted by other projects in her life, but I found it to be a shade less to her usual standards.
The lore was fantastic, as well as the characters, but I found the story wrapped up a little too neatly, and that this book was just not up to snuff.


While reading this one, I also read a non-fiction on the side - one recommended
by a friend as a 'must-read' for all parents: The Way They Learn. I picked it up right away from the library:) I found it very interesting, and very helpful! I'm often frustrated with how to get through to my daughter sometimes, as well as getting my son to focus. This book basically labels people with semi-specific learning dispositions through a series of questions. It's helpful to label yourself too, and discover better ways to communicate with everyone.
I am also listening to Game of Thrones on Audiobook while I drive to work. I absolutely love the show, and was curious if they had actually stayed true to the books. I'm only about halfway through the 28 discs (!!!) but so far the show has been very accurate - a rarity!
Worth noting too: the reader, Roy Dotrice, is just brilliant.

Now that I'm through The Way They Learn, I picked up a non-fiction
that I thought might help with my tendency to feel overwhelmed in my daily life, called The Organized Mind.
Prominent Canadian author too - win!
Will let you know if it miraculously cures me:)

Now, I always have a novel in my bag, but as my favorite fall event is beginning this Saturday, I usually lay off the fiction and depend on Calvin & Hobbes to get me through November.

Will post in the next few days on all my prep to dominate my NaNoWriMo story this year:-)

Cheers,
Kelly

The Worst Morning.

Ever had "one of those mornings?"

Here's mine:

*warning* This is graphic, and may disturb you. (I'm actually serious.)

Alarm playing. 5-ish am. Lazily hit snooze. Twice.

Murmer to hubby to wake you when he gets up. It's his birthday, can't forget. You want to get up with him and cook him bacon and eggs-something you never, ever do.

Suddenly you are at a hospital. It's not one you've ever been at. 

Walking along the corridor, you see a door on the left holds a post-it note bearing the word, BIRTHS.

You enter.

The immaculate room is exactly what you need. You're in labour, after all.
You sit and turn to your husband that has appeared by your side.
"I don't think she's coming today."
He blows his nose. Stupid cold.
The nurse is on your left handing you chopsticks. You narrow your eyes. Chopsticks?
She makes a motion with them and your confusion clears. Of course.
You insert the chopsticks, spreading open the birth canal.
In a rush of blood and fluids, her body comes barreling into the world.
You are ecstatic and hold her writhing, slimy body close to yours and your smile at your husband through your tears. The nurses take her from you to "clean her" and they ask you her name.
You look at your husband.
"We haven't even thought of it," he admits. How did that happen? You can't even recall any names even being a possibility.
You turn to the nurses, and there, sitting up between your stained thighs, sits your daughter.
Cascading amber hair falls to her bottom, barrettes adorn it throughout.
"Oh, sweet girl, you were born with barrettes," you coo.
Of course she was.
Perhaps she should be called Rapunzel, you think.

But the golden moment is over and you are suddenly in a dank room. Cold, concrete, bare but for a full-length mirror. You are in front of it, nude, a hand on your flat stomach. Where did the swell go?
A grey bed appears behind you. You scramble onto it, laying on your back, frantically pressing into your stomach.
One orange-sized lump rolls beneath your fingers.
Breathe.
Wait, what is that?
Another lump. It rolls freely. Downward. Downward.
You pull it from your loins.
A small fetus, blue and alien, torn umbilical cord hanging...

"Mom. Mom! Look what time it is!"
My son is shaking me now. It is 7:24 am. We usually leave for school at 7:40.
Shit.
"Wake up your sister! I'll take the dog out! Then get yourself some breakfast!"
The dream is still lingering, my hands are shaking as I grab my sweater and get the door into the yard. I quickly wash, yelling instructions to the kids and the three of us manage to leave for school six minutes before the bell goes. 8:19 am.
It sinks in that the hubby left without any fanfare for his birthday, and the dream won't leave me. It makes me ill. The hubby and I decided a long time ago that we were done having kids.
It also takes me a while naturally to just "wake-up." Thus, it's not until I'm done getting the kids to class and driving to work before I actually begin to comprise coherent thoughts.
Text manager: coffee?
Thank God she said yes. This is definitely a Grande Pumpkin Spiced Latte Morning.
With  a Pumpkin Scone.
(And an Oat Bar.)
And wine later.

Kitschy

So the other day I was baking scones. As usual, I was multi-tasking and doing 17 other things while they cooked, until I sniffed and realized they were done. Not really thinking, I took them out and went to turn off the timer, only to find I hadn't set it at all.
It's things like this that make me wistful.
You see, I would love to open a bakery. I love to bake - I do it almost everyday, just to give myself a little bit of peace. But I also love books and I think a little bakery/bookshoppe/tea place would be a lovely thing to run. I know I would love it.
But then I think, "oh, this city doesn't need another little kitschy tea bakery, I would likely fail." Or I think, "to run your own shop you would really need a killer sense of business and ass-loads of confidence. Fail."
So my dream-shop falls by the wayside and I just keep on keepin' on.
*sigh*