The ex in the extended family (12/27/05)

I was contemplating yesterday, after I got off the phone in back to back calls with my Dad, and my mother-in-law, that it's slightly odd how things work out in terms of family.

My parents divorced when I was very, very young, so I always consider my first meeting with my Dad to have happened when I was 22. We haven't really kept in touch very well since then; meeting in person perhaps 3 or 4 times, talking on the phone only a handful of times more than that. I've met my half-brother once, talked to my half-sister on the phone twice. I think this Christmas was the first in 2 or 3 years I had talked to my Dad, and we spent about an hour on the phone, briefly talking about my separation and mainly talking about the boom in the British Columbia economy.

Contrast that with the shorter phone call (just under an hour) I next had with my mother-in-law. We also talked about the separation, but there was context there. We talked about her husbands ailments (he's not doing very well), and their recent move.

I got off the phone and realized that I had more in common, more to talk about, and more feelings of warmth and care for my mother-in-law than my father. Time is more important than blood.

I may not be sure that I separated from my wife at exactly the right time. Maybe I stuck it out too long for the supposed sake of the kids, maybe because of my own fears. But I think I did pretty well. My kids actually know me. They may even remember me :-) They can talk to me, and I'm about as important in their life as a parent can be (without it being overdone, of course). So despite my fears of being my father, of making his mistakes, I didn't.

And at this point, my sons are hopefully far enough along that they can weather the storms that occasional dot their life landscape. And truly it is better. As even though today began with rain and landslides, more of their weather forecasts now are for cloudy skies at worst than they used to be. The occasional tornado still appears, yes. But it's like moving from Kansas to Saskatchewan, tornado-wise. And half the time they can vacation in a place where tornadoes are very rare. Ok, I'm getting out of hand with this metaphor.

I don't think that they are rejoicing the way I did when my mother and stepfather divorced when I was 12, but I think that they understand some of the benefits despite the feelings of sadness I'm sure they have. In the end, happier parents have to lead to happier kids, I figure.

Ouch ...or... the fine art of face-planting

I managed to give my kids the kind of Christmas morning I wanted to. Yes, I know this is the 24th.

This is my first Christmas "on my own" in 16 years, and I celebrated it one day early with my sons so that my ex-wife could have the "real" date.

Christmas has always been very important to her. It might be important to me, but I don't know because it's always been about reining her in before she destroyed us financially. I always loved her generosity and kind spirit, but then I hated having to figure out how to pay for everything. But this time it was sort of finding out what was "my way" of celebrating Christmas.

In the end I went very minimal - one set of Christmas lights on a house plant. For comparison, she has 2 trees decorated top to bottom, every inch of her new house trimmed, and so on... If you want a complete dichotomy of styles, there it is. Somewhere, half way between us, would be a normal person's Christmas. :-)

I had 5 presents for each of my sons to open, but no gift over a hundred dollars this year. And in the end, the gifts they most loved were a cheap little board game, a sweater, two stuffed dogs (that I knew they would love the minute I saw them in the store), and a weird little radio-controlled buggy my neighbour bought off the back of a truck. The 2 most expensive items still sit unopened - and that's not unusual. They ripped open some presents and smiled, that's Christmas morning to me.

After opening presents, and playing a few games, we packed up and dressed up. I grabbed the last gift I needed to deliver, and found some long underwear. The boys put on their ski pants, we loaded up the sleds, and went for breakfast at Burger Baron. Well, brunch. Well, a breakfast sandwich and a Eggnog shake. Yes, all three of us had that.

Now, if you're wondering why I entitled this blog, "Ouch", you'll find out soon enough.

After breakfast, and a few jokes about whether or not it was wise to give my eldest a milkshake just before walking uphill, we went to Mt. Pleasant to toboggan. It was a great day. A little windy, but near zero degrees, beautiful blue sky. So pretty I took a picture. We went up and down the hill, had some fun. But eventually my youngest said it was time to go. We compromised, one more slide downhill, then back to the top, then over to the side of the hill where the car was parked. That's when things got... a little more dangerous.

On the way in, we had seen a ramp. A ramp doesn't quite describe it correctly though. A hard mound of snow, 3 feet high, at a 80 degree angle. Just enough that it wasn't a vertical wall. My neck hurts and my eyes squint remembering it. Now on the way in, my youngest had kind-of sledded over a corner of it, and it looked like fun, so on the way out, my eldest and myself had to try it with a "sled train". At the top of the hill I sat on my sled, he sat behind me on his sled, and we put the two sleds together. We started downhill. We picked up speed. A little faster than I expected since this was a lower hill, but you know, gravity works just as well on a little hill as on a big one. We were going fast enough that when we hit the ramp (or devil's catapult as I call it now), we launched. But not a nice launch. Remember this was an 80 degree angle. I flipped in the air. I landed on my head and my face, twisting my neck at an angle unlike any I remember having had before. CRUNCH. I couldn't get up. I was in pain. I was scared as hell that I may never walk again. It was pretty bad. I forced myself to get up. It was so painful I swore out loud, the F word, loud, even with kids around, that's how painful it was. But I had to check on my son. He was hurting, but fortunately not as bad as I was.

My youngest, of course, was laughing. He had some pictures, none of my in the air unfortunately. Some others, though... I unbent my glasses. I was surprised when he told me I was bleeding. We limped back to the car, and on the way someone asked me (finally) if I was ok. I lied and said I was.

After a brief rest in the car, we left and went my my friend's house to deliver the last gift. There the boys played and had fun until the middle of the afternoon when I had to take them over to their mother's.

So, that was the good part of the day.

Yes, I hurt. Yes, I once again sprained my finger that I sprained in June and had just started to be able to use without pain a month ago. I can eat food if it isn't too tough. I can move my neck if I absolutely had to. But it was a glorious, legendary day. I loved it.

The Pros and Cons of Blogging (12/17/06)

Blogs can be introspective monologues, but that means they lack the progress that a dialog between two or more people provides. They generally only contain what you can come up with on your own. There is a time for that, and there is a time for chatting.

Dating is such a... process. From what I read in between the lines of the women's profiles, evil ****heads have co-opted the terms that would describe those of us who are good people, so it is almost impossible to really put up a good profile. You end up sounding just like the guys who've burned the women you are best suited for. But, then what do you write?

The profile is almost irrelevant to what the relationship becomes. It is such a small set of words to describe a complex person. That being said, I knew from one profile I read that I wouldn't click with a particular woman. She had contacted me, I declined, she contacted me again, I relented. In the end, she judged me to be a manic depressive fool who couldn't see the value of her chosen pseudo-science if hit me in the face. Which is fine, because I can't see the value in taking seriously things such as copper bracelets, magnets, reflexology, Feng Shui, ghost-sightings, astrology, and so forth... Yes, you can have fun with them, but keeping an open mind doesn't mean you have to make it a trash can for every bit of intellectual garbage out there. A critical mind is a healthy mind.

You might think that this is harsh of me, and would somehow prevent me from ever getting along with anyone who disagrees with me. But that's the point - I at least know that I don't know everything. And that's common ground with some people that I disagree with.

Splashdown (12/13/06)

I've been meaning to do this for awhile... thanks J for finally prompting me to get off my ass and do it. Actually, it still took me 4 days to do it after deciding to do it. Don't get me wrong, it's not procrastination -- I'm just sick. And I've forgotten all the witty remarks I was going to start with.

So here we are, starting a new endeavour which seems at first glance to be pointless. An opportunity to show the world that there is one more glib and clever little human on this planet? Ah... I just like attention. Here goes...

So this has been a year of change in my life. I've ended a marriage, lost 30 pounds, gone up on a rooftop for the first time (taking a small step towards conquering my fear of heights), managed to get regular sleep for the first time in years, stepped into a head-coaching role on my son's soccer team, dated 6 women so far (2 of them making a huge impression on me), and most importantly, found out it was possible to actually be happy.

For a long time I thought I was a borderline depressive, unable to be happy or content for any length of time. Often I was sick, and when it came to sleep I either had neither quantity nor quality. Life not only sucked, but the majority of the last six years I was either a zombie or a somnabulist, whiling away the days until death would mercifully come. But then...

I changed my mind.

That's all it took. Well, that and making the changes, getting a decent bed (ok, *a* bed rather than sleeping on the floor), channeling my despair into exercise, reading, etc., etc.

Point is, I decided to try some change. It wasn't all easy, but it was definitely better. I've always been known for giving great advice (I think), but I'd never followed it myself before.

So here we are, 2005 almost over. Oddly enough, odd years are always better for me, even years are backsliding years. I don't know if that will hold this time around.

Let's find out...