In order to create, one must reflect...

“It’s about a girl who is on the cusp of becoming someone…A girl who may not know what she wants right now, and she may not know who she is right now, but who deserves the chance to find out.” - Jodi Picoult

Today was going to be different. Today I was to meet a stranger, the person who gave birth to me. The Mother I had not seen in eight years. Finally I was going to learn about the other part of me that was taken away so many years ago. I was scared, excited, happy and sad all at once. I had a million emotions mixing around inside of me, many I didn’t understand. Although I had my twin sister beside me in this situation, I knew I had had to walk it alone. When I reached the Children’s Aid Society I was very curious. I wondered what my mom looked like. I walked through the waiting room, walking right past my biological mom, not even knowing or acknowledging it.
For once, my questions would be answered, a life-long dream. I no longer had to lose sleep wondering if I really had a mom somewhere out in the world. Not only was this day filled with curiosity and excitement, it was filled with pain and tears. We all gathered in a small room, my twin sister Michelle, my foster mom, my social worker, my birth mother, my older sister Tammy and myself. It all started with a quick embrace from both mom and sister. That is when I think the tears started. My tears were of happiness and pain. I was happy because I was able to meet my mom and sister. I knew that another piece to my puzzle of life would be filled. I cried tears of pain because I wondered why my mom never tried to look for me, didn’t she want me? I knew that today I wouldn’t get all of the answers to my questions, but I hoped they would come in time. In that moment, in knew that I would remember that day forever.

This excerpt is taken from the words of fourteen year old Wendy, remembering a day when she was twelve. That day of reuniting with my birth mother and sister, was the beginning of a very difficult journey.

The thing about recreating a foundation of self is it takes reflection on the foundation that already exists. Even, at the age of 12, I was mindful of my foundation of self. Some of the building blocks were strong and indestructible while others were falling apart or were pieces of wood that would rot over time. Now in order to recreate a foundation of self that is strong I begin by evaluating what is there. What blocks do I want to keep, what stones do I want to throw away and replace with new blocks that will stand the test of time? In our foundation of self, some of those blocks were not placed there by us, sometimes they are blocks filled with pain and sadness handed down from someone else. Sometimes though, the blocks placed by another are placed there in hopes of building up parts of a foundation sure to crumble with time.
There are parts of me, parts of my foundation that are not mine and disrupt the integrity of the entire creation. While there are other parts that are a result of sad or scary events or people, but with bravery and mortar I can situate those parts among stronger, healthier parts as a means of supporting them. Recreating my foundation of self is about keeping hold of who I am while growing into who I will be.

Parenting sometimes begins with a puppy...

A year after John and I bought our first house we decided we were ready to get a puppy.  In all honesty, I think John assumed it would lessen my immediate desire to have children.  This did happen a tiny bit.   In fact after a several very long days of caring for a very needy GSP I questioned my ability to manage a household with children at all.  But then it got easier.

Before getting a dog, we researched breeds that we felt would suit our personality, lifestyle and home.  We wanted a dog who loved the outdoors and John insisted it be a dog that would fetch a ball…so we decided on a medium size dog, a German Short-haired Pointer.  Then for months I searched far and wide for a breeder expecting puppies at the beginning of summer, I couldn’t fathom house-training a puppy in the middle of an Ottawa winter.  We lucked out, well sort of.  We found a breeder but had to travel about 8hrs there and back in a car without air-conditioning and it was unusually warm for May 24. 

Like I said in a previous blog, I enjoy being in control, knowing what might happen and how best to deal if and when it does.  I borrowed a puppy training book from a friend and read it front to back.  Then I asked John how he planned on being part of the process.  I suggested he read the book, he didn’t think it was necessary. How  was I going to get him to understand that in order to train this puppy, we must have a united front.  So, I did something any organized, perhaps a little overbearing person might do.  I made cue cards that we would use when training him to go to the bathroom outside, or crate training for example.  I also asked that John and I attend puppy training classes together, which we did.

Nikel created a space for John and I to negotiate and discuss how we were going to care for and discipline our new family member.  We decided to crate train him from the beginning and John and I took turns sleeping outside on the floor.  We took him for walks, introduced him to others and john shared his love of soccer.  He tested our limits and reminded us of the true meaning of unconditional love.  We purchased pet insurance, got him healthy dog food and bought him lots of toys.

As time went on I learned that I was the tough one and realised that in the future, “wait until your father gets home” will likely be an empty threat.  Nikel has managed to convince John that he deserves to lick his cereal bowl, because he’s cute.  Get on the couch, again because he’s cute and he even found his way into our bed (to snuggle before bed and in the am on weekends).  So, Nikel isn’t just a dog.  He’s part of our family.  While Nikel takes up space in our house, he has created space for our future children. 

Letting go and asking for help...

"You don't have to be everything to everyone, all of the time."

Have you ever found yourself frustrated with your boyfriend, partner or husband because you have asked him to do something for you but it takes him five minutes to get up and do it or he doesn’t end up doing it how you would, had you done it yourself?  This is my example of control at its best or shall I say its worst.  My strong need for control didn’t even permit me to ask for help or when I did, the expectations were unrealistic.  This was the precursor for many arguments due to me being frustrated with all the responsibility and chores around the house.  More often than not, I didn’t even ask for help, I just did it myself.  What I didn’t realize until later, was that reality of feeling overwhelmed was something I created because my need for control prevented the help and support from my significant other.

When I noticed this fault of mine I saw the way it was cheating our relationship.  Many, many times I had expressed my desire to John that our relationship be a form of a partnership, where we each take on responsibility, roles and be committed to each other.  But the need to control my surroundings prevented me from giving John the opportunity to be part of our partnership.

After John got sick I was put in a position where I barely had enough energy to eat, I was sleeping very little and my stress level was high.  It took what energy I did have to get me to the hospital to be there for John.  As a result, I let things go, I had to.  I had little time for or interest in cooking, getting groceries, going to the gym or housekeeping.  At this time I couldn’t even ask John for help.   In 2011 John had two major surgeries and another little one.  After the two final surgeries John wasn’t allowed to lift anything, no groceries, not more than a dish at a time.  He also wasn’t allowed to vacuum, take out the garbage or walk our 65lb dog.  So, during this time I learned a few things.  I learned to do what was possible.  If this meant redefining the definition of a clean bathroom from a spotless space to a room with a clean towel, toilet paper and a clean toilet, then that’s what I did.  I also learned to ask for help, which was incredibly difficult and deserves a future blog post of its own.  When John was healthy again and able to help around the house, I asked for help again, but this time it was different.  Now when I asked for help I let him do it his way and in his timeframe. 

So, instead of continually taking on more than you can handle because, your partner doesn’t do it right or does it on Wednesday instead of Monday, just let it go.  Learn that when you ask for help with something you are giving up the responsibility of it and the expectations.  Stop trying to control your life and start creating a partnership.

Sometimes I think I'm funny...

 God writes a lot of comedy.  The trouble is he's stuck with so many bad actors who don't know how to play funny.  - Garrison Keillor

In the midst of my reflecting and writing, my life happens.  I think it’s important to mention that I didn’t plan on writing a blog.   In fact until about a month ago, I had not given myself the opportunity to write.  I used to write all the time, then suddenly life got busy and I denied myself that pleasure. It has been way too long, but then one day, and then another and another after that I became inspired to write again.  So I thought seriously about a blog, I second guessed my ability, I debated whether I should even do it, finally I committed – well sort of.  I created a blog page, then wrote my first entry and asked a couple of wonderful friends to read it before I finally decided to post it.  Before making the final decision I asked John if he would be alright with it, as inevitably I would be sharing some of his life as well.  He agreed but asked that it be funny.  As you can see I am more sensitive and inquisitive than I am hilarious.

Despite my inability to be comical, there are definitely things that occur in my life, in our house and between John and I that are amusing.  Sometimes I find my own jokes to be hilarious, while John finds it silly, especially when he looks over and sees me still laughing at something I said five minutes ago.  But my plan is to try to once in a while to integrate the funnier parts of our lives into a blog dispersed amongst the blogs about reflection, growth and love.

Sometimes the things that happen to me are funnier than the things that I say.  For example, on April Fool’s Day ten minutes before I was to leave the house for the day.  I reached into the fridge took out the orange juice and shook it.  Unfortunately, the lid was not on and I soaked myself in orange juice.  With only a few minutes to spare I decided to change my clothes and just let my hair air dry.  But, as the orange juice dried I looked more like the girl in Something about Mary, then I cared to explain.

The undeniable strength of family

“You make yourself strong because it's expected of you. You become confident because someone beside you is unsure. You turn into the person others need you to be.” – Jodi Picoult

For most of my life, I was the strong one.  I was the one who watched out for bullies, wiped away tears, snuggled during a thunderstorm and loves unconditionally.  I am a piece of a very small puzzle.  My sister and I share a special bond – we are twins.  While Michelle and I are fraternal twins, meaning our genetic similarity is the same as if we were simply siblings, the relationship that we share is incredibly strong.  I would describe my twin as my soul mate.  In every stage of my life, Michelle has always been there.

At the age of two, Michelle and I were apprehended by the Children’s Aid Society and placed in foster care.  By 4.5 years old we were named wards of the state and spent the next 19 years in care.  Michelle and I learned quickly that we were the only family we had.  Despite the fact that our birth parents moved in and out of our lives, they were never consistent nor were they healthy relationships.  Michelle and I were lucky to live together in the same foster home.  Living in care is another story all on its own.

While most teens begin to grow into their independence and begin to distance themselves from their family as they begin to discover self, I was already there.  Early on in my life, I took on the role of a mother.  I cared for my sister.  I showed her unconditional love, inspired her trust and encouraged her self-esteem.  For all of us who have siblings, there are genetic similarities, look-a-like facial features and similar mannerisms.  But what makes us each different is our personal experience of the world and our resilience in times of difficulty.  Where I am strong and outgoing, my sister is sensitive and reserved.  Where I entertain the risk of failure my sister wonders ‘what if’.  We are special and beautiful in our own way.  We teach each other different things.  I teach her to be brave, she teaches me to be kind.

My experience of a family of two taught me how incredibly important family is.  Without Michelle I would have never faced the world alone.  I never would have learned to love like I do.  With the support of my twin I learned to believe and to trust.  So, whoever you are, whatever you define as your family hold it dear and cherish it. 

Not so much the beginning, but it's where this story starts...

A foundation becomes the building blocks of one’s being that is below the surface, often unseen yet it maintains the integrity of all that settles upon it.

There are moments in our lives that shake us to our core. Moments that have us wondering, how am I going to manage? Moments that leave us worried about what might come next, and will this get easier.

My journey in recreating my foundation of self was born out of one of those moments. A year ago this month, the integrity of my foundation was tested. I am a planner, a control freak and I make decisions only after I have researched, contemplated and evaluated my options. But, I have learned that life doesn’t always have room for control. I have found great comfort in being part of a process and planning helps keep me grounded. Then out of nowhere, something happens and my life changes in an instant.

In January of 2011 my partner, John was suddenly unwell which resulted in emergency surgery and ten days in the hospital and months of recovery followed nine months later by two more surgeries and another 13 days in hospital. So, I the one who has always needed to be in control was suddenly lost. In the moments, days, weeks and months of stress I lost sight of my foundation of self. But as John got better and the stress found its way out of our lives, we found a new normal. I came to the realization that as much as control had protected me in my past, it had suddenly failed me. I didn’t want to be in this position ever again.  I promised my future self I would not let everything go just to manage. So my recreating begins there...