Category Archives: home.life

Family is important to me. From wife to mom to widow, through remarriage and step-parenting, here is a little about family life as seen from my perspective.

My heart on my sleeve

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Today is not a good day. I mean, it’s a good day… I’m alive; my family is healthy; we have a lovely home and enough to eat. So I’m grateful. I’m grateful for this life. I’m grateful for everything God has brought me through and I’m grateful for the future that lies ahead of me.

But I’m scared.

And I’m stressed out.

I’m scared that I’m failing at being a mom. I’m scared that my children are going to grow up to be less than they could be. I’m scared that I’m going to wreck them. I’m scared because I don’t know what they need. I’m scared of being inconsistent with them. I’m scared that they’re going to be spoiled. I’m scared the wounding they’ve experienced is going to scar them forever.

I’m scared because I can’t create their future.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:6-7 ESV)

I have held on to this verse for a long time. I have it engraved on a ring I wear. I reach for this verse whenever I feel stressed. I have felt a ton of God’s peace through a lot of significant stuff, but I consistently lose my cool when it comes to parenting. Maybe it’s an indication that I haven’t given my kids over to the will of God. I wrote this just a few short months ago:

What I need to do is remember that my kids are only on loan to me. I have been charged with loving them, teaching them and protecting them but I MUST remember that they belong to God; and parenting is God’s work. He is the one who bears the ultimate responsibility for how they turn out. He is the one who created them with a plan and purpose. He is the one that will work in their hearts as we scatter seeds of faith in their lives and aim, by the grace of God, to pour out the fruits of the spirit in our homes – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. [From With the grace of a kindergarten teacher - published December 16, 2011]

Maybe I still can’t wrap my head around it.

Sometimes my stress is from having a toddler. Mine is an ornery one too. He has been since the day he was born. Mini-man, on the other hand, was never that way. He was the sweetest toddler imaginable. He was agreeable, adaptable, kind, empathetic, loving… here’s a little video from when he was 3 1/2 years old. Not too many kids would shrug that off and laugh.

But mine did.

But now, at 6, he seems so uncertain. I know he’s smart. I know he’s perceptive. But he completely lacks self-discipline in every way and has no regard for authority at all. Some days I’m afraid he’s going to become a sociopath and other days I just think he’s the best thing since sliced bread. Most days, though, are a blend of the two. Most days include asking him to do the same things over and over. Most days include telling him NOT to do the same things over and over. Most days include yelling and time outs and apologies without change. Most days I feel like I’m banging my head up against a wall.

Today is one of those days.

I’ve tried time-outs. I’ve tried the naughty chair. I’ve tried spanking. I’ve tried yelling. I’ve tried taking away toys and TV and movies and Wii and other privileges. I’ve tried a combination of all of the above. I’ve tried more one-on-one time. I’ve tried more sleep. I’ve tried more encouragement and more grace. I’ve tried everything I know how to try and still it seems like my kid is the one who is always in trouble.

Sometimes I find myself saying, “What happened to him?!” But I know what happened… his daddy died. His life was flipped upside down. His heart was broken. His little soul was wounded… and there’s nothing I can do to change what happened.

Every decision I’ve made since Dave died I’ve made with my kids’ best interests in mind. It was Dave that was adamant that his boys needed a strong Christian father and it was Dave that wanted his kids to grow up in a nice house in a nice community. I have done all I can to give our kids the future he wanted them to have… the future we wanted for them together. And I will continue to do everything in my power to raise them the way I believe he would have wanted.

But I can’t bring him back for them.

So now I don’t know if this fundamental shift in Mini-man’s personality is forever. I don’t know if it’s because he lost his dad or if it is just a normal developmental stage. I don’t know if it’s because I re-married and moved him to a new community. I don’t know if it’s because I am too lenient or too strict. I don’t know if it’s because I discipline him too much or because I don’t celebrate enough his successes. I don’t know if he knows how much I love him. I don’t know if he feels secure. I don’t know how to help him find his authentic self. I’m not sure he will ever be back quite the way he was. I’m not sure he ever should be… after all, he’s growing and changing and learning every day. Each new day is shaping his future to something new but to what? It feels like my heart is torn out. I can’t make it better.

I can’t fix him.

Maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe tomorrow he’ll return to kindergarten and be able to listen to his teacher. Maybe tomorrow he’ll remember to clean up his breakfast dishes after himself. Maybe tomorrow I won’t have to ask him 6 times to put his shoes on. Maybe tomorrow he will do as the playground supervisor tells him to do without talking back. Maybe tomorrow he will earn back one of the toys I took away today. Maybe tomorrow I will be a better mom than I am today.

Maybe I’m just crazy. Maybe this is normal.

Maybe it will all be okay.

The Jellybean Game

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Photo: dwstucke on Flickr

So today I’m throwing Miniman’s 6th birthday party. I am terrified of kids running rampant throughout my house, so my best line of defense is to structure the party with lots of games that will harness their energy in one direction. As I was preparing for today I remembered a game we played at a birthday party when I was a kid… The Jellybean Game.

What you need:

  • A shallow, round pan – like a 9″ round baking pan or something similar
  • 4 cups of jellybeans or so; more if you’d like depending on the # of participants
  • A small cup for each participant
  • A small spoon
  • A pair of dice

Fill the baking tray with jellybeans to about 1″ deep and put the spoon on top. Have all the kids sit in a circle around the tray – have them back up so there is at least 2-3 feet between little knees and the jellybean tray – more is better. Start with the guest of honor. Have them roll the dice. If they get doubles they get to go fish out jellybeans. If they don’t get doubles, the dice pass to the person on their right so that the dice move counter-clockwise around the circle, each person trying to roll doubles to get in the center of the circle to where the jellybeans are.

Once someone successfully rolls doubles, they go kneel beside the tray of jellybeans. With one hand behind their back and the spoon in their other hand, they get to lift out jellybeans one by one – using ONLY the HANDLE end of the spoon (without flicking, scooping or otherwise cheating) – and depositing them into some kind of cup (one per child).

While they are lifting jellybeans out of the shallow tray with the handle of a spoon, the dice are continuing to be rolled by the remaining participants in a counter-clockwise manner around the circle. The person in the middle continues with the jellybeans until someone else rolls doubles. They may get a long turn or they may get a short turn. It’s up to the dice! Keep playing until the tray of jellybeans is empty.

The winner is the person with the most jellybeans once the tray is empty. The winner gets a prize and everyone who got to fish out jellybeans gets to keep what they gathered.

So there it is: The Jellybean Game.

If you have a favorite kids’ party game, describe it in the comments! Let’s see if we can put together a bunch of the best kids’ birthday party games in one place.

With the grace of a kindergarten teacher

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Photo: Will Foster on Flickr

I have a confession to make: I have some anger issues.

When I was a kid, my parents were strict. They were loving, but strict. I thought so anyway. The rules and moral code I had to adhere to placed the bar just above my head and I was always striving to reach it. I was a good kid. I was never spanked (ever), but I was disciplined with a wave of guilt that only a father can bestow upon his daughter. My dad used to say, “I’m disappointed in you.” Well… he may as well have beaten me. That was usually plenty to make me change my tune. When it wasn’t, though, he yelled.

He yelled loudly.

He yelled because he loved me and hated that I was making poor decisions. He yelled because he couldn’t make me choose to behave better. He yelled because he felt powerless to fashion me in to the awesome person he knew I could be, all the while resting the idea of how well I turn out on his own shoulders. In truth I’m not sure if that’s how he felt, but it sure is how I feel about my own kids.

I yell too.

The other day I was helping out in Mini-Man’s kindergarten classroom with their lunch program (could you imagine trying to feed eighteen 5-year-olds without any assistance?!) and I saw the kids interacting with their teacher before and during lunch. I watched as they tried to stay still on the carpet, as they budged in line while waiting to wash their hands, as they poked one another and giggled. All the while their teacher was correcting them gently and moving on to the next task. Her voice never wavered.

She’s soft and firm.

See, she loves her job and is awesome at what she does; I think you have to be in order to actually survive being a kindergarten teacher. She cares for each child and wants them all to succeed, but because they’re not her kids she doesn’t need to feel any burden for how they’ll turn out as adults. I’m sure she hopes that in some way she’ll make a lasting impact on the life of each child she teaches, but I’m sure she doesn’t lose sleep over it.

She doesn’t yell.

Honestly I’d be angry if she yelled at my kid. Why? Because it’s inappropriate and ineffective. I love my kids and I love being a mom; and I care for each of my children and step-children and want to see them succeed. But I have heaped on my own shoulders the complete and total responsibility for how my children turn out as adults through my own condemnation of other parents whose children have faltered. My own judgemental attitude has set the bar way higher than any parent can hope to achieve.

What I need to do is remember that my kids are only on loan to me. I have been charged with loving them, teaching them and protecting them but I MUST remember that they belong to God; and parenting is God’s work. He is the one who bears the ultimate responsibility for how they turn out. He is the one who created them with a plan and purpose. He is the one that will work in their hearts as we scatter seeds of faith in their lives and aim, by the grace of God, to pour out the fruits of the spirit in our homes – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

Notice yelling isn’t on the list.

What I need to do is correct them gently each time they fall short of my own expectations. I need to lovingly show them the right way to behave and then move on to the next task. I need to hand my kids over to God at the end of the day understanding rightly that the ultimate responsibility lies with Him.

I need to parent with the grace of a kindergarten teacher and trust God for the rest.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” [Matthew 11:28-30 NIV].

Home is where the heart is

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Photo: Meredith Farmer on Flickr

I remember planning my move to this beautiful place and my new future with Big Mack and I was so excited. I was excited to move back to the Okanagan; I was excited to be a part of a whole family again; I was excited to live in a house with a yard; I was excited to give my sons a new dad; I was excited to quit my job and become a stay-at-home wife and mom; I was excited to spend time writing music. There’s only one thing I wasn’t excited about.

I hated the idea of leaving my church.

My church was my home. It’s where I wanted to be. It was filled with people who cared about me, people who prayed for me and listened to me when I needed to talk. It was people who held me accountable and people who stretched me and taught me to reach out for God’s truth… to get to know Him better. It was where I belonged. It was my home.

I’d visited Big Mack’s church a few times during my visits with him before we were married – maybe 3 or 4 at most. I remember comparing it to Valley Church – my home church since I became a Christian in 2005 – and feeling completely underwhelmed. I remember thinking the music was lacking and the congregation was stifled and I remember disliking the preaching I did hear simply because it wasn’t Pastor Owen. There was some social awkwardness too… or maybe it was just me. I was, after all, attending where Big Mack used to go with his now ex-wife and, well… it just wasn’t MY church.

Ugh.

I remember mulling it over. I remember asking Big Mack if he would consider moving to something a little more vibrant. I remember wanting something different… I remember saying I couldn’t feel the Holy Spirit there. I remember praying about it and I remember God telling me to stop looking at church with an expectation to be served but, rather, to look at it as an opportunity to serve others and trust in Him.

This is right where he wanted me.

I am so grateful to the Oliver Alliance Church community for embracing me wholeheartedly, for welcoming me into their lives and into their hearts, for including me in their social engagements and for caring for me and my boys through the children’s ministry. I am thankful I have been given the opportunity to serve with the worship arts ministry and that I have been encouraged and prayed with and loved on and lifted up.

I am so completely ashamed at the terrible attitude I once held about this great group of people. As I have come to know many of them – even just a little bit – I can tell their hearts are genuine, their faith strong and true. I can tell they love my Jesus as I do.

I still have close relationships with Valley Church through songwriting; my co-writers are there and I have been meeting with them about once a month since I moved here. And I always take in a service there when I’m in the city on a Sunday… I am even still asked to sing with the worship ministry there on occasion. What’s beautiful, though, is I now have a new church family and all those things I thought about Oliver Alliance before were completely wrong.

So wrong.

It’s funny how our perceptions change. I think God changes them. Where once my poor outlook clouded my vision to where I couldn’t see the Spirit moving in that place I am now moved to tears in worship and humbled by the inspired preaching. So often Pastor Jeremy manages to preach on a topic or scripture passage I was just reading or contemplating the day before, confirming to me that God is very much still at work.

As Christians, our church becomes our family. They are an extension of us – the body of Jesus. We cannot function well without those vital relationships. We must allow ourselves to fall under the leadership and guidance of a pastor and a church body for our own well-being and growth.

I’m so grateful that God put me right where I am. My heart is here.

Parenting is God’s work

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Photo: Britannia Willes

Children are a gift from God.

They’re a gift to us; they’re a gift to this world. They’re His children, His creation… The kingdom of heaven belongs to them (Matt 19:14). He loves them infinitely more than we ever could. He has a perfect plan for their lives. Not one of them is an accident. Not one of them was unplanned. Not one of them was unwanted. Not one of them arrived at the wrong time or the wrong place or to the wrong parents.

Not one.

How we treat our children is a reflection of how we treat Jesus. If we don’t have time for our children we don’t have time for Jesus. If we yell at our children we yell at Jesus. If we smack our children we smack Jesus. Every time we sin against our children we are spitting on Jesus and mocking him on the cross over and over again.

Sometimes I feel absolutely overwhelmingly frightened at the sheer magnitude of the responsibility. Sometimes I feel like my heart is going to break when I realize that they need more than I will ever have in me to give.

Every parent is given a monumental task… a mission… a ministry. To them. To our kids. To train them up in the way they should go (Prov 22:6). To not provoke them to anger (Eph 6:4). To love them. To teach them in humility and with patience. To speak truth into their lives and to model the fruits of the Spirit of God: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control (Gal 5:22-23)… It’s a high calling and a daunting one.

But God is able.

Remember… whatever He has called us to do He will do it. He is the one who fed the crowd of five thousand with just two fishes and five loaves of bread (John 6:1-15) and so we are able to raise up our children even without the best of examples (or even any example at all!) … just God’s promises and our faith.

And yes… I’m mostly just writing this post to myself.

One man’s trash

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Photo: miggslives on Flickr

You know how when you’re starting to feel kind of proud of yourself it’s like perfect ripe timing to be totally schooled? Yeah, it was like that.

The day was going so well.

Today was my first day without Big Mack but with all 5 kids for the entire afternoon from the school pickup through bedtime. So like any new and somewhat frightened step-mom I think, “Ice cream and some kind of park ought to do it, right?” So I packed up the Evans boys and headed to the school to pick up the Mack kids at the appointed time. I was greeted with smiles and a request for another friend to join us… no problem. She didn’t have to be home so what was one more? After all, I wouldn’t want an empty seat in my vehicle, would I? That would just be silly. Pack ‘em in I say.

So I took the 6 kids, including one in a stroller, to a very cramped, very chaotic ice cream shop… like a corner grocery store that seems to have cornered the market on kid-goodness: ice cream, candy, slushies etc. These guys, in fact, even mix ice cream and slushy together to create a treat highly coveted by children everywhere I’m sure. Once all 6 were happily licking away we were off to the local park that is both a playground and a beach – the best of both worlds and a place I had yet to visit. I was obviously feeling particularly cocky by this point as evidenced by my comfort with a lack of prior reconnaissance of the area. All the kids were playing nicely though; it was like a miracle was taking place. Miss Mack and her friend were doing typical pre-teen stuff: alternating between deep conversation on the swings to joining in with the younger kids at the water’s edge; and the 3 middle kids were playing nicely with mini-boy as he tiptoed into the water and hucked handfuls of wet sand everywhere. There was only a little complaining about our lack of preparedness for the beach; it was an impromptu visit after all so no one had swim suits, towels or sand toys but we made do and any complaining was so minor it was barely worth mentioning.

No one is crying and all are enjoying themselves. WIN!

They even behaved when I said it was time to go (a blessing from God Himself, no doubt, who knew what was coming up). We all piled back in to the big family wagon and made our way home… or rather, most of the way home.

And then it happened.

I could see it coming and I heard the gasps from the back seats. It was awful. There was a frenzy. I just knew when I saw the array of assorted barbecues, gardening tools and old dishes that this would be something like a monkey party with stuff flying everywhere. It was like watching a train wreck happen in slow motion and I was totally powerless to stop it. I pulled up the vehicle outside the house and the kids piled out with lightning speed.

“We’re going to the garage sale!” “I have my own money!” “Hey I don’t have any money *cries*!” “Wait for me!” “Move your bag I can’t get out!” “I want to see what they have too!” “We’re going to buy stuff!”

It was awful.

I stared, hopeless, as the 4 older kids trotted off towards the place where old lawnmowers went to die as I bid farewell to the friend from across the street who joined us for the afternoon. Knowing full well I had to care for mini-boy and make dinner (not to mention that I think the Mack kids sense my apprehension with my new role in their lives and know how to play me ever so subtly), they knew all too well I was indeed powerless against their schemes. In a moment they were gone. No one warned me about this.

Why didn’t anyone warn me?!

I had no idea how bad it could be. I had no idea they had any money!! Who gave these kids money?! I’m convinced the neighbour gave them half of the stuff they brought home. Not only one but TWO of the children bought new tool boxes for Big Mack who, incidentally, already has about six tool boxes. Now he’s a handy do-it-yourself kind of guy, but that steel box that looks like a 1967 workman’s lunch kit sure is going to cramp his style. Then there was this awesome joy stick thing that can be used to play games on the computer. “Which games?” I asked. “Any game.” I was told.

Oh but it gets better.

Mini-man bought a remote control. “It just needs batteries,” he tells me. So now if I want to turn on the NOTHING it came with I will have no trouble doing so. How thoughtful. And I know we’ll all get a lot of use out of that NBA game for PC they brought home. Oh yeah, and there were baseball cards… or was it hockey cards, or basketball. Honestly I don’t care. I found myself praying: “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.”

I find myself with my own childhood flashing before my eyes and a sudden appreciation for my dad and his tempered reaction to my own awesome garage sale finds. In fact, I’m a little remorseful if I’m being honest. Sorry dad. I had NO IDEA.

So much for that commitment Big Mack and I just made to stop buying more stuff. I think we forgot to pass on the memo.

And now I’m sitting, and looking around at the boxes of stuff I still have to unpack and find homes for and I find myself thinking, “We should have a garage sale.”

No more Mondays

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Photo: Road Fun on Flickr

Today is Friday.

My friends are rejoicing for the weekend has arrived. The work week has come to an end, school children have finished their educational endeavors for time being and the sabbath rest begins.

Except… well, now I have no Friday. Because I have no Monday. I’m learning a whole new way of living that I haven’t experienced before. And while it’s somewhat similar to the ever-changing life I once lived in college when random classes and shiftwork formed the core of my existence, I am now walking in uncharted territory. Or so it seems.

As a stay-at-home-mom my schedule – or lack thereof – is dictated by the schedules, work and school cycles of those in my household. Gone is the mundane. Gone is Monday to Friday. Gone is the weekend.

And I love it!

When I started working a full time salaried position back in late 1999 I went through a mourning process. I mourned the variety of shift work. I also mourned the cyclical nature of the university school year marked by fall semester, Christmas, spring semester, May long weekend, summer break, Labour Day weekend… each season bringing new anticipation of change… new courses, new jobs, new activities. The Monday to Friday, 9-5 (or 8-6… whatever) lifestyle had its definite drawbacks: most notably, you have to run all your errands on the weekends with everyone else when business hours are reduced already. Aside from that, however, I missed the days when I would work a 7am-3pm shift and feel like I had a full day still ahead of me once I got off work. Similarly, I missed the occasional shift where I didn’t start until 3pm because I could go out late the night before and not worry about having to get up early. I missed having days off in the middle of the week.  The shift to office hours really seemed to make life quite boring.

Of course I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the benefits of that boring schedule: you always get your weekends free, life with young children can be easier… it’s certainly easier to find and coordinate daycare anyway, and you know exactly how much money you’ll get and when – a benefit I’ve come to value greatly over the years.

But now, in leaving the corporate world for my new domestic position I am thrust back into a world where every day is different and there is a little something to look forward to in each.

Big Mack works a 4-on-4-off schedule and his shifts always change so each block starts at a different time. This weekend, just as all my friends are celebrating Friday, Big Mack is getting ready to start the dreaded graveyard shifts. He’ll work 9:30pm-8am for the next 4 nights straight, and this is the first time he’s done this with me and the minis here so we’ll see how successful he is in attempting to sleep during the day. I’m sure everyone who does this kind of work is grateful for black-out-blinds and ear plugs, not to mention coffee and red bull.

However, as bothersome as graveyard shifts can be for him, there’s something exciting about an ever-changing schedule to me. With Big Mack’s work schedule, the Mack kids in school Monday to Friday and at their mom’s at random intervals and the Minis here every day, each day is different. It is, of course, also awesome that after factoring in vacation days and such, he actually works less than half the days in a calendar year. That doesn’t suck at all if I’m being honest. But I have come to love the school days when all the Mack kids are here and Big Mack is on days off. I get time to get out with the Minis for a walk or a play at the playground and Big Mack and I have been getting a lot of stuff accomplished around the house. Then, when the Macks get home from school, they play with the Minis and I love watching them all together while Big Mack and I hang out and cook dinner together. When the Mack kids are at their mom’s it’s quite a bit quieter and there’s definitely less mess – I usually have the Minis playing in the play room or outside and, thus, contain the mess a little more than when all 5 are here – but it’s so nice having them around.

But this weekend, the Macks are at their mom’s and Big Mack will be sleeping during the day and working at night for the next 4 days. I will be alone in the evenings and making every effort to keep the minis quiet during the days. I guess I just like the variety of it all. I’m looking forward to using my evenings to work on my songwriting – something I only like doing alone or with my co-writers – and using this empty(ish)-house time to get some much-needed cleaning and tidying done.

I guess my point is that the workload just ebbs and flows now. It’s fast-paced at times and relaxed at others, but each day of the week is different from the next. And while my work week never technically ends, I don’t miss Fridays. I love my job so much… plus, it has an amazing benefit plan.

I am so grateful.

Life as Mrs. Mack

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The big "I do"

Well… I have totally neglected my blog. The pace of life has been changing too quickly for me to catch my breath, and while I’m thoroughly enjoying every minute of it, I feel like a bit of a hermit at the moment.

So I married Big Mack on April 2nd in Osoyoos, BC. It was a tiny little wedding with our very closest family and friends there: 20 adults including ourselves and the pastor who married us and his wife plus 12 children and 2 babysitters. Yes, the babysitters were necessary. We could have done with a couple more in fact.

Being a second wedding for both of us – and a daytime one at that – we opted for casual. I wore a green dress and Big Mack wore a grey suit. We left the white dresses for the Mack girls who were my de facto bridesmaids and walked down the aisle to the song “In Christ Alone“. The lunch reception at the Walnut Beach Resort was really great – the food was amazing – and we commemorated our wedding night by taking our 5 kids home to Oliver.

All the kids thoroughly enjoyed the after-dinner aperatifs of NyQuil.

Of course I’m kidding; but you can see a selection of photos from the wedding on this Flickr set.

Within a few days we were off to Miami, where we spent two nights and one full day exploring Miami Beach and the scene at South Beach, and then Sint Maarten where we were guests of the new vacation real estate community Porto Cupecoy.

View from our condo at Porto Cupecoy

I actually won the week at Porto Cupecoy thanks to a twitter contest so we had a beautiful 2 bedroom, three bathroom condo right on the waterfront. Both rooms had king beds and the ensuites were about as big as our master bedroom at home. The walk-in closet the side of the kids’ rooms at home. It was really beautiful. There was a huge private terrace overlooking the marina where we enjoyed our morning coffee and an evening glass of wine while looking at the multi-million dollar yachts and imagining what the lives of their owners must be like.

View from the dock on Pinel Island

While in Sint Maarten we did some exploring, spent time sunning ourselves on Pinel Island and took out a little sea-doo style thing called a Rhino to snorkel on the north side of the island in the most insane rain storm I have seen in a long time… and we were snorkeling under the lightning! Fun.

We returned to Miss Mack’s 11th birthday at Boston Pizza… our first meal excursion with all 5 kids. Good times all around for sure. I think the hostess panicked a little when she saw us. The waitress sure did… but I suppose I’ll have to get used to that.

The movers brought my things last week – the guys from Ferguson Moving & Storage were awesome by the way… very professional and wrapped everything so well; I highly recommend them – and now we’re digging out from under the rubble. Slowly but surely we’re getting organized and learning to blend not only two households, but two lives into one… or rather, 7 lives into one home. It’s been an emotional ride for everyone I think. All the kids are doing well, though… and Big Mack and I are saving a lot of gas money now since we don’t have to drive 400km to see one another.

A few random observations from the last month:

  • I like not having a scale in my bathroom. Big Mack keeps his downstairs in the gym so I’m not tempted to hop on each day.
  • Small towns are awesome. I recently posted on my Facebook how I went for a walk and was stopped 3 times (mind you, once was by my husband) by people stopping their cars in the middle of the road to just chat right there.
  • It’s good for kids to be able to run around outside. Mini-Man is thoroughly enjoying calling up from the carport to me saying, “Mommy can I ride my bike?” Sure. No problem. We live in a cul-de-sac where you see a car every couple of hours.
  • Eleven-years-old is an awesome age. That is all.
  • I parent emotionally and need to learn to take the emotion out of my disciplining. The kids respond well to Big-Mack… less so to my ranting
  • I really enjoy blue cheese
  • Seven people in one home create an astronomical amount of laundry
  • I love the town of Oliver. The weather is mostly dry and there’s a HUGE long paved path – from here to Osoyoos, actually – to run on along a river. So nice.
  • It’s a good thing babies and toddlers are cute.
  • Kids enjoy games that may induce vomiting.
  • I consider remote controls to be the man’s domain; in fact, I don’t even want to learn which one operates what.
  • Life feels less chaotic when the kitchen is clean.
  • DVD players in cars are an awesome invention.
  • Boys’ pants will always have something in the pockets when thrown into the laundry hamper. And in that vein, it’s a good idea to have a hamper in every room of the house. Mind you, socks still end up on the floor. So do towels.
  • I need to drink more water; it’s dry here.

So there you have it… the briefest of updates and nothing deep to say. It’s all there in my head… I have had many awesome nights of sitting up talking with Big Mack about the things of life thanks to our shared views on religious adherence to early bedtimes.  I just haven’t had the time to write it on my blog. But Big Mack is back to work this weekend – he’s had 5 weeks off – and I will have some free evenings from this point on.

I promise to keep writing… I have too many opinions not to.

God bless…

The First Noel

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Photo: Sweet*Shot on Flickr

This year is Mini-Boy’s first Christmas and he seems to sense the excitement… he sure does enjoy the lights on the Christmas tree. Maybe I’m the one who is excited about seeing him unwrap gifts for the first time while dressed in a Santa-suit sleeper on Christmas morning or maybe I’m just making it up.

It’s also the first Christmas without Dave.

We have to do things differently this year. Trying to continue with the same traditions we’d been building together over the years would, no doubt, feel forced and lacking. Not just for me, but for the rest of his family as well.

We used to go over to his mom’s house for Christmas breakfast of eggs in tomato sauce, hot capicollo and pan-fried oysters. We’d open our gifts together while Dave and his mom would begin to try to outdo one another in the kitchen in preparation for a multi-course feast. I think I have his grandma to blame for that one… the first time I participated in one of these meals was at his grandma’s apartment. She managed to serve a 7-course meal for around 12 people from her little galley kitchen. A family friend had mentored me through the process. “Just take a bite or two of each course. You need to be able to make it to the end.” Sage advice indeed.

The first Christmas we spent in our home after we were married, Dave decided to outdo even his grandma (sorry Susan). I lost track of how many courses he served to 14 people from our own tiny galley kitchen. The meal ended with flames in the kitchen as he served up Bananas Foster for everyone. It was pretty spectacular. In years following we have had our Christmas dinners at his mom’s place.

This year I wanted to offer his mom a rest.

I know this is hard for her. My life is in such flux right now that I’m really looking ahead to what is to come and this particular Christmas feels like a sort of single, random Christmas stuck between two existences. I had to fight the urge to not even do Christmas at all, but that wouldn’t have been fun or fair for my boys.

So I’m going to “do” Christmas this year… my way.

I’m not sure how good of a job I’m doing – I’ve never been good at sending out cards – but I got a tree and got it decorated. Dave’s mom helped decorate it with Mini-Man and he’s very excited about seeing the gifts arrive under it. He keeps asking each day, “Is tomorrow the day that there will be presents under the tree?” Sadly, I have come to the conclusion that all the gifts I so diligently bought way ahead of time are not going to wrap themselves and, thus, I must stop procrastinating and get it done. I’m excited about singing for the Christmas Eve services at my church and having Dave’s mom bring the boys there to celebrate before she takes them back to my place to tuck them in for the night. I’ll join her for a Christmas Eve beverage of the adult variety when I get home and we’ll get to work preparing the magic for the next morning. Christmas morning will see a quiet gift-opening at my place and then I’ll be getting busy preparing a turkey dinner.

I’ve never cooked a turkey on my own before.

When I went to Mexico in the early weeks after Dave died I recognized that I’d have to learn to do things that I considered “his job”. For instance, I had to learn to transform transformers. I know, this sounds random… and it is, but it’s similar to cooking a turkey for me. At first I kept resisting Mini-Man’s requests to have Bumblebee transformed because I didn’t know how to do it and I was angry that I even had to… that was Dave’s job. But he wasn’t here to do it anymore.

So I learned.

I sat down one night and spent a good hour figuring it out. When I finally got him from a robot back into a car I had an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I know it probably sounds stupid, but it began a journey towards my feeling like I can manage. Like I can do all the things I need to do to get by without Dave. And so now I will learn to cook and serve a turkey dinner in the same manner. Well, maybe not the SAME manner… there is no way I’m doing a seafood course and a pasta course and all that stuff. But, I will cook a turkey complete with stuffing, veggies, potatoes, cranberry sauce, gravy and such.

I know I can do it. And I know it will be empowering but bittersweet.

The only one tradition I do want to keep is one we started just a couple of years ago with Mini-Man. On Christmas eve he’ll bake a birthday cake and for dessert after Christmas dinner we’ll sing happy birthday to Jesus and enjoy a piece of cake together.

After all, Christmas is about Jesus anyway. And birthday cake is WAY better than Christmas cake.

So this Christmas I want to embrace its uniqueness, love my family, sing some songs, learn some new skills and life lessons, bless others and thank God for sending the Savior.

The end of an era

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Well it feels like an era… 11 1/2 years, that is.

That’s how long I’ve been on the payroll at Grouse Mountain. And come January, I will return to work only part time after my maternity leave to help transition someone new in to my role as Marketing Manager.

It all started as a summer job.

I had been living in Penticton, BC and working at Apex Mountain Resort as a lift operator while I went to school. I earned a Bachelor’s degree in Business Administration with a concentration in Hotel & Restaurant Management from Okanagan University College (which is now Okanagan College and UBC Okanagan Campus) and I wanted to figure out how to get one of those very coveted year-round jobs in the ski industry in BC’s interior. They are very few and far-between to say the least. So I began working as a Guest Services Representative at Grouse Mountain as a way to get my foot in the door with arguably one of the most successful year-round ski/recreation areas in the country. My plan at the beginning of summer 1999 had been to work there for the summer before going to Nelson, BC where I had been registered for the Selkirk College Ski Resort Operations & Management diploma program. Well due to a personal situation I didn’t end up going to Nelson; I stayed in North Vancouver, met Dave – the man I would later marry, and took on the position of Executive Assistant to the VP Marketing, also one of Grouse Mountain’s owners.

Over a year as her EA gave me a huge overview into the world of resort management. During that time, the owners of Grouse Mountain were heavily involved in the launching of Kicking Horse Mountain Resort in Golden BC, so I also got to play a little part in it, which gave me huge insight into what it takes to build a four-season destination resort from scratch – it afforded me the opportunity to see and hear things I never would have seen or heard otherwise and I feel very blessed to have gained that amount of knowledge in such a short period of time.

During my time as EA, however, I realized I wasn’t on the right career path for me. I remember waking up one morning thinking, “What am I doing!? I want to HAVE an EA… not BE one.” So after an oddly stressful moment and the extension of way more grace than I was deserving of from the VP Marketing, I was handed the position of Marketing Coordinator. That was early in 2001.

Since then my position within the marketing team has shifted and morphed and moved and stretched and shifted again until I found myself in the position of Marketing Manager for Vancouver’s most-visited destination and an organization that I am very proud to be a part of. I have had the opportunity to grow my career within the safety of a company that appreciates me and my efforts and gives me the freedom to try new things. I was able to go out on a limb and lead the company into new marketing channels like social networking on Facebook, Twitter, YouTube and Flickr before it hit the mainstream and blogging when other companies didn’t have the confidence to get in there and jump in to these then-emerging areas.

It’s strange when I think that I’ll be giving up a position I absolutely love with a company I have grown to adore filled with people I now consider some of my closest friends… but the future is before me and I’m excited to say I have no idea, really, where it will take me in the long run.

What I do know, however, is it will take me to Oliver BC, where I will become a stay-at-home mom to 5 kids when I marry Big Mack in April.

While I’m very excited to have found a partner I couldn’t possibly be more compatible with (thank you God!), I never thought I’d want to be a stay-at-home mom at all… let alone one to five children. But the last 9 months since Dave’s death have taught me just how important the people in our lives are and how we need to cherish and nurture those relationships. It’s more important to me that I raise my kids in a wholesome home environment than it is that I continue to live and work here in North Vancouver where my modest 800 square foot condo bears the same value as a 4-5 bedroom house in Oliver. Besides, I find it terribly ironic that I had always had the intention of moving back to the Okanagan all those years ago and had contemplated revisiting the idea even before I met Big Mack.

Just last year I couldn’t imagine leaving North Vancouver. Now I can’t imagine staying.

The thought of a new start in a new town with new people and a new outlook is very freeing… refreshing even. I look forward to seeing what God has in store for me. In the meantime, I will spend my final months in Vancouver working part time, recording an album of original music, snowboarding as much as I can, planning a wedding and spending time with my kids and the Macks.

I look forward to continuing to share the journey with you.