Resolving to Not Resolve
Author: jill
•2:41 PM
I do not make a New Year Resolution. I think they are ridiculous to be honest with you, but I understand why people make them. Beginning a new year is like wiping the slate clean. It's a fresh start. I get the same feeling in September when school starts - I always have. Fresh pencils, new books, a big stack of paper ... So, I often begin new projects or make changes for myself in September.

When I was in high school, I had a friend who made a New Year resolution to do something she had never done before ... wink, wink, nod, nod. We all knew what she meant, although I can't remember if that resolution was fulfilled that year. It's actually a great way to make a resolution ... it's non-specific and open to interpretation. You cannot fail ... you could make cupcakes, if you had never done that before; you could plan a trip to a place you had never visited before; you could have a baby for the first time. Think back to this past year ... did you do anything you had never done before? I did several things that I have never done before ... one thing in particular that I had hoped I would never have to do again. But it seems that will not be the case.

You might be surprised to read that I am not a big fan of New Year resolutions, considering that I just challenged myself to read one hundred books in one year. Honestly, this challenge could just as easily have started in March or July ... it just so happened that I became very bored in December. My brain needed something to do ... probably because two of my three babies are in school all day now. Most women would look for a job ... I've got plans ... but in the meantime, I needed a project.

I will write frequently about my children. Remember? I am recovering mom-oholic. My Caiden is gifted with numbers and they consume a great deal of his life. It is how he works, and he even uses them to describe how he feels sometimes. The first time he took the bus home from school, he told me he liked it fifty percent. Everything is broken down into numbers ... the highest score, the tallest, the longest, the oldest, the heaviest. This is how he operates. And so, because I deal in numbers all the time, I often think in terms of numbers as well.

It led me to ask ... who read the most books in one year? How many books did s/he read? The answer is Sarah Weinman and she read 462 books in one year. Sarah is a freelance writer and she describes herself as a speed reader; in fact, she says that she reads in chunks at a high speed, and she admits to not always knowing all the specific details of the story when she's done. I am not a speed reader and I like knowing all the details. In fact, I often get caught up in details. It's a problem, but we'll talk about that another time.

In the meantime, my whole family has become excited about my challenge. The girls and I made new bookmarks. Caiden told me he wanted to read one hundred books, too ... look for him to be a guest blogger sometime!! But the biggest surprise of all is that my husband got himself two novels to read ... Jonesy doesn't read novels. He does enjoy those really boring financial books and biographies or any type of true story but I have never known him to read a novel. Ever. One night he was on the Internet trolling for author/books, etc. (I told you - everyone is getting into the challenge), and he was enticed by a author he found. He happened upon an author who grew up in our home town, and lived right down the street from Jonesy. I, too, am intrigued and one of his novels may be one of those substitutions I talked about earlier. More about that at the time ....


And today, Jonesy made a little stop at Indigo and shopped for books ... what? Guess what he brought home? A new cookbook for me! Many women would be thoroughly offended by this and throw some kind of temper tantrum ... not me. I love cookbooks ... A LOT!! So, the way I see it, this Eve of the New Year will be spent enjoying my homemade spring rolls and browsing through Living Raw Food. Now there is a New Year's resolution ... eating only raw food. Although it can't be all that bad, 'cause the book says it contains recipes from pure food and wine. If it includes wine, it could definitely have a future at my house.

So, at midnight, the quest will begin. Should I get a good sleep tonight to wake up fresh and ready to go; or, should I stay up extra late and begin the challenge? Do you see my problem? I'm caught up in the details already ... that, and I have no life!

Stay tuned ... see you next year!!
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A Glimpse
Author: jill
•12:03 AM

Have you ever read something and then it lingers on your mind for a couple of days? It could be that you are not ready to say good-bye, or something that happened in the story made you question yourself or your ideals. Maybe it is a character that just sticks with you forever? For instance, who could forget Dickens' Miss Havisham? Wait a minute, who could forget Great Expectations for that matter?  And I always loved Daisy in the Great Gatsby -- ditzy, pretty and fun-lovin', not a care in the world. I wish I could be Daisy.

One night just before Christmas I was looking for something to do, other than obsessing over the Barbie Dream Camper, so I read Ellen Foster written by Kaye Gibbons. I love character studies and was immediately drawn in by Ellen. She's funny and resourceful and insightful; I really liked Ellen. Most importantly, she is a survivor. The story details how she came to live with her new mama, as Ellen refers to her. It is difficult to think that some children are forced to survive in this way, where they become the parent and have to fend for themselves. Ellen Foster walks away from her devestating childhood, relatively "normal" (whatever that is) and happy. She is a suprisingly strong little girl and she has learned from the things that she has had to endure. In contrast, my little girls become over-wrought with despair if their pink marker dries up or if their tights are not the exact shade of their skirt. Ellen Foster was happy to have any clothes to wear, even when she knew they were hideous, and the few trinkets that she owned were truly treasured. If I were to run into Ellen Foster now, I'm sure she would still have that microscope she bought for herself when she was eleven.

It is interesting that Ellen is eleven years old when she loses her mom. There is something about losing a parent at that age that impacts on the child's life forever. I am not implying that if your parent dies when you are eight or seventeen years old, it is any less traumatizing. However, it seems that when a child is that age, they have a very difficult time moving passed it. Rosie O'Donnell has talked openingly about the devastating loss of her mother when she was eleven years old. In his book, Dispatches from the Edge, Anderson Cooper details the loss of his father at the same age. I was left wondering what happened to Ellen when she grew up.

I was moved by the awesome impact of Ellen's new mama and the meaning of the foster care system to Ellen. You close the book believing that a foster parent can make a real difference in the life of a child. Ellen's new mama sounds like a wonderful woman, sewing curtains to match the bedspread in Ellen's bedroom and cooking homemade food with love. Most moms do these things; you and I know that but Ellen really appreciates them. Ellen makes mention of her new mama rubbing the girls' backs in an effort to comfort them. You know, I do the same thing all the time, and actually caught myself rubbing Caiden's back just the other day while I was talking to him. I hadn't even realized what I was doing, but I understand now that it is something a parent unknowingly does out of love. To comfort and sooth their child. Touch is important to a child and Ellen Foster illustrates that idea perfectly.

When I finished with Ellen, I followed it up with Kaye Gibbons' A Virtuous Woman. If you continue to follow this blog, you will soon learn how much I love words and their meanings. And by considering the various meanings of words it can change your perspective on things. Jonesy is responsible for this ... he always uses words in ways that make you think. He is an artist with puns. I'll admit, it can get a little frustrating and annoying sometimes, but for the most part it has forced me to look at things in a new way and it usually makes me laugh. Don't tell him but I often think of the pun/joke before he can say it. Which means that in some respects I have started to think like Matt Jones. This scares me.

Anyhow, you will notice that I refer to Dictionary.com all the time.

Getting back to A Virtuous Woman, I had to consider the word - virtuous. Dictionary.com defines virtuous as conforming to moral and ethical principles, and being morally excellent. But, what are the principles, and who decides that a particular quality/characteristic is virtuous. Jonesy, of course, knew the answer to this. He referred me to a website that was all about virtues and it lists commonly held virtues -- I am sure you've thought of a few yourself. Love, bravery, gratitude, responsibility. But the website, explores a different approach to the notion of virtues. The author introduces the idea that virtues come in complimentary pairs; so that for each virtue there is an opposite partner and if we tend to favour one (virtue) over the other, one becomes over-extended and the other weakened and stunted from growth; when, really, no one is any more beneficial than the other. For instance, if we agree caution is a virtue then its opposite would be bravery. If I ignore caution, I will become reckless and take too many risks. However, if I do not embrace bravery I will be cowardly and surely miss out on opportunities. One must find the balance between the two virtues because one virtue is no more valuable than the other. Try it -- think of a quality that you think is a virtue. Now consider its opposite and how you must balance the two ideals in your own life. Honesty is a virtue, but is it necessary to be completely honest in every situation? It is an interesting take on the term, and it could change the meaning of the title of the book because it implies there is something special about Ruby Pitt Woodrow. But aren't we all virtuous women?

A Virtuous Woman opens in the same way that Ellen Foster does -- talking about death. Dying and death and loss are strong themes that run throughout both novels. The story is told alternately in voice of Ruby and her husband, Blinking Jack Ernest Stokes. To be honest, in the early parts of the story Blinking Jack's description of his wife does not lead me to love her the way he does. He does it subtly but nonetheless, it influences me. And maybe I don't like her because I find smoking cigarettes so vile and disgusting. Maybe if I did smoke, or I had smoked in the past, it would not repel me so much. In the beginning of the book, Jack describes repositioning her hands while she lay in the coffin because he wanted to hide the nicotine stains on her "two ashy-smelling fingers." Honestly, what is there to like about that?

I don't know if I like Blinking Jack either and I can't for the life of me figure out why the two of them ended up together. Do you know a couple like that? I know a few, and most of the time it just makes me sad. The only reason I can come up with, is that one of the partners thinks they cannot find anyone else who will love them; which is unfortunate. It's the best explanation I can come up with for Jack and Ruby, too. Jack even says as much, I think. Jack is a simple man who enjoys a simple life. In the end, he is able to overcome his grief by replacing his wife with a piece of land. And, it seems as though Ruby accepts a life with him as punishment for the bad decisions she has made in the past.

After Ruby's first disastrous husband leaves her, she looks in an old mirror and says out loud, "'I'm doing the best I can.' Lord, we will tell ourselves anything to get by." That is so true, don't you think? Sometimes you have to lie to yourself, just for awhile, to get through something really bad. And it is okay, because it is your brain's way of protecting itself. See? You don't always have to be honest.

Both were good reads. Very thought provoking ... I'm still thinking about them ten days later. And I won't soon forget Ellen Foster ... she's a keeper.
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Confessions of a Crappy Santa
Author: jill
•3:03 PM
There is one thing every year. The thing that Santa just can't find. And, maybe it is because Santa didn't get her shopping done soon enough. Or, maybe the stupid company did not make enough of the thing. Or, maybe it is some thing that nobody has ever heard of.

This year it was the Barbie Dream Camper, and trust me, everyone has heard of it. The reason that it was not under our Christmas tree on the morning of December 25th was because Santa did not get her shopping done soon enough, I guess. That, and Walmart put them on sale for a great price, did not have enough of them, and then sold out of them in one morning. The morning that I did not even see the flyers until the afternoon. I did not know about the fabulous price until it was too late. The sales associate in the Toy Department told me that the Barbie Dream Camper sold out before nine o'clock in the morning, on the morning I did not see the flyers until the afternoon.

So, Jonesy and I searched all over the tri-county area for a Barbie Dream Camper. We could not find one anywhere and I would have paid triple the Walmart sale price if I could have found one. Let me clarify that I was willing to pay triple the price; I don't think Jonesy would have agreed with my craziness but that doesn't mean it wouldn't have happened if I could have found one. A last minute business trip to Toronto meant that Daddy was literally travelling across Southwestern Ontario a couple of days before Christmas; which also meant that the shopping malls available to me just increased dramatically. So I phoned every Walmart and Toy R Us between Windsor and Mississauga in the hopes of finding just one Barbie Dream Camper tucked away on a shelf. I hid in our closet, the door shut, crouched over a piece of paper with phone numbers scribbled on it, whispering to some stranger on the other end. Begging this stranger, who would not have to deal with the look of disappointment that I could not bear to face. There were none to be found.

So, Santa brought an awesome Barbie dollhouse instead. It stands almost as tall as she does. It is like a country house, decorated in soft pastels and pretty things. The furniture is adorable and I know that it will be a source of lots of fun. But it's not a Barbie Dream Camper. And, I did have to deal with the look of disappointment ... the look all parents dread on Christmas morning.

Santa was really not herself this year because not only did she create the whole Barbie Dream Camper fiasco, but she brought new colouring books without remembering to include new crayons and/or markers. Basically, Santa sucked this year. So, Marnie and I decided to go hit up some after Christmas sales and buy some new crayons and markers and whatever other colouring supplies we could find that would replace a Barbie Dream Camper. We were having a great time ... looking at the markers, checking out some other crafty supplies, chatting with a new mother of twin girls (sooooo cute!).

And then, she spotted it. A Barbie Dream Camper!! I wanted to take the Barbie Dream Camper and throw it across the store and scream at the top of my lungs. I can only assume that it had been returned. If I could have snuck it past her brother and sister, I would have bought it for her. But, how could I explain the new toy to the others?

"Sorry, you guys, but Santa brought the things that you asked for ..."

We left the Toy Department, without the Barbie Dream Camper, in search of mozzarella cheese for lasagna. Same look of disappointment again for the second time in a week. Same Mommy scrambling for ideas.

"Come on, Marn. Let's go find some frosting and we'll try out your new cupcake maker and decorating pen, okay?"

It is funny how the same thing that could have made one little girl's Christmas morning a complete success is so casually tossed aside by another little girl. I bet she wanted a Barbie dollhouse that stood as tall as she is.
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100 in 1 - The List
Author: jill
•6:45 AM
I love lists. A lot. And, I make them all the time. It is part of me - the list-making, that is. In fact, I have even made a list of the lists I need to make. I always have a list - a grocery list, a to-do list, a laundry list, a cleaning list. Recently I had a Christmas baking list and a very specific Christmas to-do list. My list is always organized and/or categorized, and if I do not have one, I feel a little lost and scattered. And one of the best things about a list is crossing stuff off.

Either you are reading this, saying to yourself, "Of course you have a list. Who doesn't?"; or, you are staring in disbelief, trying to comprehend what you have just read. Wondering if you want to get involved with a woman who becomes unhinged without a list to hold herself together.

In any case, I'm sure that you can understand my excitement in trying to come up with a reading list. I took to the Internet in search for a list of books to read. I love researching almost as much as I enjoy lists, so the thought of researching for a list was almost more than I could handle.

I looked at lots of different lists - top 100 books of the last decade, best 100 novels of all time, an all-time list by Time, and there was even a list of the 1001 books you should read before you die. But, after much self-imposed deliberation, I chose Entertainment Weekly's New Classics. It is described as the 100 best reads from 1983 to 2008 and I chose it because it is current. There is fiction and non-fiction, and some are written about present day, some take place in the past and some are a collection of short stories. The books may not be the most literary acclaimed, but they seemed interesting and a couple had already caught my eye. 

I have posted the list in the side bar and encourage you to look through it. I bet there are some titles you have already read, or some you have considered reading but never did, for whatever reason. I can hardly wait for Joyce Carol Oates, Black Water; but I have to get to number fourteen on the list. I have picked up The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls several times and put it back for several different reasons; but this time, I get to pick it up and take it home.

There are a couple of selections that cause me to take pause. For instance, Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials is a series of three books and it is literature. It is not a light, easy read. I bought His Dark Materials about a year ago because I read some wonderful things about it. When I started to read it, it quickly became apparent that it was something I would have to put some effort into and I only read the first chapter. Not because I did not like it, but because three small children got in my way and I ended up reading some "Her Parenting Materials" instead. Anyhow, although the three books are a series, they only count for one heavy, involved read on my list. I may have to skip this and replace it with a selection of my own. I will wait and make that decision when I get to number forty on the list. There are a couple of other selections that I feel the same way about and I'll make that decision when I get to them.

I am going to begin at the bottom of the list, with Jon Stewart's America (the Book), which I am dying to read. I love Jon Stewart and think it will be a great way to start the challenge. But, will Cormac McCarthy's The Road be a great way to end? Guess we'll have to wait and see.

I am excited to get started but in the meantime, I need to make a shopping list. Look out Chapters-Indigo ... here I come. If you are there, I'll be the one looking over her list with the three children - one complaining about having to come shopping, one excited just to be shopping and one running around pulling books off the shelves, not listening to her mother. Am I crazy to do this? Yep, but that is what makes it fun for me. Why don't you join me? And, if you don't like my list, pick your own.

Come on ... you know you want to.
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My Life in Numbers
Author: jill
•8:38 PM
I am forty years old and that is an important number. Why is forty so important? It's a great question and I am not sure that I can find the words ... but it is important. Trust me. Ask any woman and she will tell you the same thing.

I have been married fifteen years and I have three children. I have one house, zero pets, two vehicles and too many toys to count. I have a bank account with a balance of not very many numbers and a heart whose capacity to love her family cannot be measured in mere numbers. I do a minimum of eight loads of laundry in a week and one time, I even got them all done in one day. But that was just one day. I prepare three meals a day. I clean up three meals a day. I thoroughly clean my house one time per week ... usually.

My life has been reduced to numbers. It reminds of a book my son has, called The Math Curse.

And I have decided that I need a project. Because I am feeling unchallenged and  I feel forty - there is that number again. And, I prepare meals and I serve meals and I clean up meals and my brain feels dead. Well, that is not exactly true because recently my brain was exercised, but that is a story for another time and another blog. The point is that my brain enjoyed being exercised again. Doing something enjoyable and challenging and interesting, that did not involve children.

Please ... do not get me wrong. I love being a Mom. It took me a long time to become a Mom and I would not trade being a Mom for anything in the world. In fact, after I had my first baby, I felt (for the first time in my life) like I had really accomplished something. I feel very fortunate to have spent the first years of my children's lives at home with them and I know that it is a priviledge not afforded to all women. As you will learn, I do not sugar-coat things, so I am not going to try and tell you that it has been all perfect and story-book because it has not. It has been very difficult and very stressful but also very rewarding and it helped to shape me into the person that I am today. I hope that someday my children will think back on this time and be grateful that their Mom was able to spend their early years with them.

At the same time, I think that I lost a little more of myself each time another baby became a part of the Jones family. I became completely wrapped up in my children and forgot about what was important to me. What was important about me. I only cared about what made them happy, what they wanted, what they needed. Which, of course, you must do as a parent. However, I never took the time to balance the them with the me. I envy those girls who can offset time spent with their kids, with time taken for themselves. I have never been able to find that harmony because I became completely anxiety sticken at the thought of leaving them to go out for an evening, especially as infants. And, as you can see, the pattern was defined.

As the number of children increased, the number of things I had to do increased as well. And, I continued to lose myself in the number of things I had to get done. It is easy to do - ask any Mom. Sometimes it becomes too easy and you use them as a shield to hide from other things. Things that you do not want to deal with. Not that I would do that, of course, but some people might. 

Anyhow, as I mentioned earlier in the post, I enjoyed exercising my brain and so I have come up with a little challenge for myself. Numbers, of course, are involved. 

I am going to try and read one hundred books in one year. Okay, even as I am typing this challenge, I know it is ridiculous. It is unrealistic but I need to make it a challenge. If I say that I am going to read one hundred books ... that is not a challenge. Anyone could say that. The challenge will keep me motivated. I have done the numbers and it means that I would have to read each book in 3.65 days; 1.9 books per week. It might be possible, but I will have to organized, which thankfully is one of my areas of expertise. You do not get to be an anxiety-ridden control-freak without throwing a little hyper-organization into the mix.

The real reason for this insanity is that I have recently discovered a love of writing and I wanted something to write about. I am going to use this blog to record my journey of trying to read one hundred books in one year, and the thoughts that come along with reading all these stories.

So, do you like to read? Why not join me? What do you have to lose, except some precious time with your family and the odd reality television show? Come on ... we'll do it together. One hundred books in one year.

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Mom-oholic Defined
Author: jill
•8:29 PM
So, I bet you're wondering ... what exactly is a mom-oholic? I have checked Dictionary.com and there is no listing for "mom-oholic," so maybe it's just a word I made up. But still ... that does not mean that mom-oholics don't exist. It just means that mainstream society has not yet caught on to the idea. Maybe I'll be founder of the Mom-oholics Guild of Canada (MGC) ... it could be like a Quilters' Guild, but the membership would consist of stressed out women, with Type-A personality, who take on way too much and become completely anxiety-ridden at the mere mention of another school bake sale or fun playdate at the park.

Let me introduce myself. My name is Jill and I am a mom-oholic.

A mom-oholic is a person addicted to being a Mom. A mom addict. If you consider the definitions of the word "addict," it all makes sense. According to Dictionary.com, an addict is a person who is addicted to an activity, habit or substance. Therefore, a mom-oholic is addicted to the activities involved in being a Mom. She enjoys making the baby purees, and playing with Lego alongside her child, and watching her child draw picture after picture, and ironing pleats into her baby girl's little skirt and in some bizarre way, she even enjoys changing those little diapers. Everything she does is for her children, and she genuinely takes pleasure in doing these things until her life becomes consumed by them. And then suddenly, the diapers aren't so little anymore. In fact, there aren't even diapers anymore, and yet she continues to hover, her every thought monopolized by what she can do for her kids. Instead of baby food purees, she is making caterpillar cupcakes for kindergarten classes and Thanksgiving cards with treats attached for teachers and students alike. 

As a verb, addict is defined as ... to cause to become physiologically or psychologically dependent on an addictive substance, and to habituate and abandon (oneself) to something compulsively and obsessively. Now ... do you know a woman who has not abandoned herself completely to the little being that has just entered her life? After all, that is the beauty of a baby - they suck you in until you are utterly physiologically and psychologically dependent on them, which usually takes a few mere seconds. Most would say that a baby is dependent on its mother, however in the case of the mom-oholic, the mother is equally as dependent on the child. For instance, I can't imagine not touching my children every day ... I need to, for my own well-being. Now, satisfying this need is never a problem for me because I never leave them for more than a few hours. Are you beginning to see my problem for what it is? 

Do you want full disclosure? I did not leave my first baby until he was fifteen months old. Not once ... not even with his father. I did not run down to the pharmacy for twenty minutes. I did not go out for lunch with a friend. I did not pop over to the grocery store. Ever. And the reason I finally did leave him was because I was pregnant with my first daughter and my mother insisted that there needed to be some separation to prepare Caiden for becoming a big brother. So, I did it because my Mom said that I had to ... that is the only reason.

Every Mom probably has an addiction to her children ... but some manage their addiction better than others. I let myself become so intertwined in my children that I lost myself. So, this blog is for me ... to help take myself back.

Before I had children, I read all the time. I always had a book on the go. Most times it was fiction, but I also read biographies and non-fiction. And, of course, I read cook books. After I got pregnant for the first time, I read nothing but books about being pregnant and child-rearing and cooking for children. My life revolved around them ... my sweet babies. Until about one year ago, when I found a book written by Anderson Cooper, called Dispatches from the Edge. It is one of the most honest, heart-breaking books I have read. I felt like I was intruding on something personal that was really none of my business. And I was fascinated, by both Anderson's story and remembering what it was like to enjoy reading just for the sake of reading.

So, I have decided to challenge myself with something that I enjoy. Because I need to do something for me. Now I just sound selfish, don't I? Ha! It's all about me now ... me, me, me. Maybe I've got an addiction-prone personality and I'll become a me-oholic! Stick around ... it could be that you'd like to join me, fellow mom-oholics ... on my challenge ... on my recovery ... on my journey.

Follow my blog, check back often ... we'll do it together!
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