Holding the Hands of the New York Mom

Last night, after the kids were asleep and I was in bed looking at google news, I read about the woman in New York's Upper West Side who came home yesterday to discover the horror of two of her children murdered by their nanny.  I haven't stopped thinking about it since.  I woke up in the middle of the night thinking about it.  I woke this morning thinking about it.

That mom is a million years away from me in so many ways - affluent, American, urban - but in the one way that matters most, we are exactly the same.  We are mothers who love our kids and spend the majority of our lives protecting them from harm and always feeling like we are falling short.  She is a mom, just like me.

Last night, before I shut down my laptop, I read some of the comments people were leaving on the internet about this tragic thing, and I was sickened to see how many people (other moms in particular) were quick to jump to the heartless conclusion that the mom was to blame.  If she had been home, they coldly posited, this never would've happened.  She should have been home, they typed, because "I stay at home and never let my kids out of my sight."

What is WRONG with you people?  What is wrong with you people who could be this judgmental and smug  about a woman who has just looked into the face of our biggest collective fear?  Where are your hearts?  Where is your soul?

This is "blame the victim" once again.  This is what we do.  We see someone endure a horrific crime and we immediately look for ways that it was the victim's fault, because as long as we can blame the victim we can comfort ourselves with the notion that we would NEVER make the same mistake that led to this tragedy.  If a woman is raped we can say: "she never should have been walking alone at night and wearing a short skirt.  I would never do that, therefore I will never be raped."   We can say: "I would never leave my kids with a nanny, therefore my kids will never be murdered by the nanny."  This is the coldest, meanest, and most small minded logic.  This mom did nothing wrong.  She left two of her children with her trusted nanny.  I am a stay at home mom these days, and every so often I get a sitter so I can do something on my own.  Am I asking for it?  My friends here in our small town sometimes ask if they can leave their kids with me so they can have a few hours to get stuff done.  Are they making a grievous error by doing so?  Of course not.

This is a gender issue with a twist.  This is a gender issue wherein women are judging another woman. This woman is a rich, stay at home mom therefore it is her duty to be home?  Bullshit.  The facts so far suggest this mom was out with her third child and left the other two with the nanny.  So there you go, judgers, she was still being a mom while she was out, she was just doing what we all do - she was making things a bit easier (a bit) by doing something with one kid and opting for care for the other two so she didn't have to juggle three kids while out in the world.  And if she had been out on her own getting a pedicure or seeing a film she would still be completely innocent.  A mom gets to take a parenting break when she needs one.  If I could afford a nanny I would have one just so I could be by myself for an hour or so every day.  That wouldn't make me a lesser woman or a bad mom.  A full time stay at home dad would be allowed to have a night out or a beer with a friend on occasion.  This woman has money, and she was choosing to use some of it to make the overwhelming job of parenting three children a bit easier by employing a nanny.    And I'm looking at YOU women who judge other women.  Stop it.  I don't know what I would do without the support of my mom friends, and this morning all I want to be is a friend to that woman in New York who is living our worst nightmare.  She is my sister, and although she does not know I exist and probably never will, today I am making it my business to defend her, to metaphorically hold her hand.  I can do absolutely nothing to ease this woman's unspeakable grief, but at least I can, from afar, say over and over: "It is not your fault.  It is in no way your fault."  It's a small thing.  It's a tiny thing.  But it's the thing I can do.

Another Can't Sleep Stupid Blog Meme to Make up for Lack of Real Update

1. Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 18, and find line 4.  All books in my vicinity have fewer than 18 pages.
2. Stretch your left arm out as far as you can, What can you touch? The side of the couch.
3. Before you started this survey, what were you doing? Surfing the net.
4. What is the last thing you watched on TV? Undeclared.  (that is the name of the show, not a description of my answer)
5. Without looking, guess what time it is 4:12 am.  
6. Now look at the clock. What is the actual time? 4am.
7. With the exception of the computer, what can you hear? fridge running, clock ticking, husband snoring.
8. When did you last step outside? What were you doing? Around 8 last night went out to see the northern lights.
9. Did you dream last night? Yes.
10. Do you remember your dreams? Some of them.
11. When did you last laugh? Last night.
12. Do you remember why / at what? Recapping the day for my husband and laughing at my kids.
13. What is on the walls of the room you are in? Art, clock, curtains.
14. Seen anything weird lately? Dead bear.
15. What do you think of this quiz? It is typical.
16. What is the last film you saw? Ironman 2.
17. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you live? I need to check out more places before I could make that decision.
18. If you became a multi-millionaire overnight, what would you buy? My freedom.
19. Tell me something about you that most people don't know. I know sign language.
20. If you could change one thing about the world, regardless of guilt or politics, what would you do? Stop sexism.
21. Do you like to dance? Not in public.
22. Would you ever consider living abroad? Yes,
23. Does your name make any interesting anagrams? I assume so.
24. Who made the last incoming call on your phone? I think it was my husband's uncle.
25. What is the last thing you downloaded onto your computer? pictures.
26. Last time you swam in a pool? April.
27. Type of music you like most? Folk, musical theatre, pop.
28. Type of music you dislike most? Hard rock.
29. Are you listening to music right now? no.
30. What color is your bedroom carpet? no carpet.
31. If you could change something about your home, without worry about expense or mess, what would you do? Re-do the downstairs.
32. What was the last thing you bought? groceries,
33. Have you ever ridden on a motorbike? no.
34. Would you go bungee jumping or sky diving? no.
35. Do you have a garden? ummm...kind of, a neglected one.
36. Do you really know all the words to your national anthem? what? of course.
37. What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning? what do I need to worry about today.
38. If you could eat lunch with one famous person, who would it be? David Letterman.
39. Who sent the last text message you received? Kara.
40. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Chintz and Co.
41. What time is bed time? Around 9pm.
42. Have you ever been in a beauty pageant? I just lol-ed.
43. How many tattoos do you have? none.
44. If you don't have any, have you ever thought of getting one? only kind of.
45. What did you do for your last birthday? worked. My mom made me a gluten free cake.
46. Do you carry a donor card? no.
47. Who was the last person you ate dinner with? kids.
48. Is the glass half empty or half full? vacillates. 
49. What's the farthest-away place you've been? Europe.
50. When's the last time you ate a homegrown tomato? Last week.
51. Have you ever won a trophy? yes.
52. Are you a good cook? marginal.
53. Do you know how to pump your own gas? one must.
54. If you could meet any one person (from history or currently alive), who would it be? Great, great, great grandparents.
55. Have you ever had to wear a uniform to school? no.
56. Do you touch-type? no.
57. What's under your bed? floor, sub-floor, .boards, insulation, basement ceiling, air, mom in law's suite, carpet, sub-floor, boards, crawl space, plastic, earth, rock, molten core, more dirt, China.
58. Do you believe in love at first sight? no.
59. Think fast, what do you like right now? peace of mind.
60. Where were you on Valentine's day? can't recall.
61. What time do you get up? when I wake up.
62. What was the name of your first pet? Ambrose.
63. Who is the second to last person to call you? Can't remember.
64. Is there anything going on this weekend? No.
65. How are you feeling right now? Okay,  Weary, a bit anxious,  Status quo.
66. What do you think about the most? Money, kids, getting organised.
67. What time do you get up in the morning? This is the same as question 61.
68. If you had A Big Win in the Lottery, how long would you wait to tell people?  I would only tell close family and friends, after a visit to a financial adviser.
69. Who would you tell first? My husband.
70. What is the last movie that you saw at the cinema? Footloose.
71. Do you sing in the shower? I rarely shower.  I bathe.
72. Which store would you choose to max out your credit card? Fuck off, another repeat question.
73. What do you do most when you are bored? Internet.
74. What do you do for a living? Act and write,
75. Do you love your job? I do.
76. What did you want to be when you grew up? Artist.
77. If you could have any job, what would you want to do/be? Artist and writer.
78. Which came first the chicken or the egg? Fuck off.
79. How many keys on your key ring? A few, soon to be 2.
80. Where would you retire to? Millionaire Acres.
81. What kind of car do you drive? Saturn.
82. What are your best physical features? Hair and hands.
83. What are your best characteristics? Wit and compassion and relentless creativity and a complete ability to not give a shit if people like me or not.
84. If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation where would you go? Right now, Maui, because people I respect say it is awesome and because I have never once had a vacation for pleasure and relaxation.
85. What kind of books do you like to read? Grown up books.  They all seem like a distant memory.
86. Where would you want to retire to? Hello, question 80.  Nice to see you again.
87. What is your favorite time of the day? When I am asleep.
88. Where did you grow up? In a nice, mid-sized city.
89. How far away from your birthplace do you live now? About a 9 hour drive.
90. What are you reading now? This question.
91. Are you a morning person or a night owl? Morning.
92. Can you touch your nose with your tongue? no.
93. Can you close your eyes and raise your eyebrows? wtf?
94. Do you have pets? no.
95. How many rings before you answer the phone? again, wtf?
96. What is your best childhood memory? all pretty good.
97. What are some of the different jobs that you have had in your life? kid photographer, actor, writer.
98. Any new and exciting things that you would like to share? no.
99. What is most important in life? love.
100. What Inspires You? Capital Letters On Every Word! 

Worrier Princess

When J and I were freshly engaged my mom said this to him: "She's a little worrier, J.  And she always has been." She would know.

Anxiety plagues my family.  Everyone on both sides seems to give excessive attention to all the things that could go horribly wrong in every situation.  There are only a couple of blood relatives I can think of who do/did not over-worry.  My paternal grandfather was pretty chill, and he lived to be 101 years old.  My niece, T, does not seem to stress as much as the rest of us.  Other than those two, we are all complete neurotics.

I once saw a special on the making of "Seinfeld".  Jerry Seinfeld and Larry David were being interviewed about the initial success of the series, and their reactions to the network ordering more and more episodes.  Jerry thought it was great!  Larry was paralyzed with stress with each request for another script.  He could not imagine himself able to rise to the task.  I saw myself in Larry David.  I would never be the Jerry, shrugging and all "it'll work out."  I am the Larry.  I want success, but when it is staring me in the face I am all: "I will NEVER be able to pull this off!"

I think our world is set up for Larrys not Jerrys.  Our society had become so complicated, fast paced and success-centric that we are all balls of stress pretending not to be.  There is a good reason that so many of us are searching for a simpler life.  There is a reason why downsizing, growing our own food, and  greening up our lives, has become so trendy.  It is my belief that we all suspect, even if only subconsciously, that something has got to give and we want to be ready with our bunker in the mountains and firewood and home canned food when we officially strive ourselves into implosion.

Lately I have been really fixated on a single issue in my life.  I won't go into specifics, because, obviously, that would stress me out.  But I think about this issue a lot.  And when I think about it just logically, I know it is really not a big deal.  But tell that to the little demon in my brain.  That demon always needs one point of fixation on which to survive.  Kind of like how the plant in Little Shop of Horrors needed human blood.  Because if and when I stop fixating on this ONE thing, that demon will immediately start to feed on something else.

One of the kids recently woke me in the middle of the night.  After I'd settled the baby back down I couldn't get back to sleep myself and immediately began to stress about the thing I am currently stressing about.  So, to distract myself, I started to think about my pattern of stressing out.  Here's a few episodes I thought of:

The first panic attack I can clearly recall happened in grade one when I realized I'd forgotten to return a stack of flashcards I'd borrowed.  I slept in bunk beds with my sister, and I can so keenly remember lying in the top bunk, my six year old head hot with anxiety about what would become of a kid who committed such an atrocity as this.  I schemed about how I might get to school early, before the teacher, and sneak the cards onto her desk.  In the end, I, in a state of pure terror, walked up to her desk, handed my teacher the cards, and she said: "Oh, thank you."  And that was that.  It was all fine.

When I was fifteen I settled in to study for my French final exam, and without warning I suddenly was pounded with the manufactured realization that I had waited too long to cram and I would surely fail and that there was nothing I could do to stop it.  This fear came out of mid-air, landed on me and I became paralyzed.  I could not study.  I was so panic stricken that I just turned out the light,   crawled under the covers and waited until the morning when I could march to the gallows and get it over with.  The exam was fine, and I passed the course easily.

When I was in my 20s, at university, I realized that the student loan people had neglected to send me a specific form that was standard procedure then - a confirmation that the borrower had worked in the summer and was also contributing to his or her own education financially.  I called and asked for the form to be sent and it didn't arrive.  I called again.  And then, one evening, I convinced myself that the lack of this form meant that I would not be eligible for the breaks the government was then giving to students who completed their degrees in a timely manner, and I would have to pay back the entire amount, and consequently my entire adulthood was now blown. Cue flop sweat, shakes, and an overwhelming need to lie down.  Of course the form eventually arrived in the mail, I filled it out and all was well.

Oh I could go on.  But those examples probably paint the picture well enough.

This pattern of sudden, brutal anxiety has etched itself into my entire life.  I don't ALWAYS react to adversity with a panic attack.  In fact, many of the situations that actually should cause panic I handle quite well.  I'm really, really good at many of the really big things.  I have been called upon to help people who are at the end of their lives and have found the experience profound and rich and fascinating and in no way scary.  I stand up in front of crowds and speak and perform on a very regular basis.  I have zero problem with confrontation, yet I am anxious every day when I have to get the mail because I am sure there will be some sort of horrible message that will turn my life on its head.  And  sometimes, with little warning, I fixate on something totally random and spiral and feel like Larry David facing a blank page on a computer screen.

I have come to believe that this kind of anxiety disorder (is it a disorder?) is so much a part of me that it must be somehow connected to the parts of me that I really like - my creativity, my wit, my ability to recognize the beauty in the ugliness of life.   So I accept it and try to do what I am doing now - to remind myself that it is, indeed, a pattern.  If I can show myself that this is me, and this is my own special crazy and without it I would be a lesser version of myself, then I can usually talk myself down and get on with things.

I think Larry David is brilliant.  I love him.  And ever since I saw that interview I always think of him as a kindred spirit.  He knows he has something to say, and work to do, and as much as his demon makes him doubt himself, he gets on with it.  So I am okay with being a Larry.  Larrys grit their teeth and get the job done.

Neurotic and Themeless

I have been feeling, as a blog owner, remiss at not having posted in earnest in some time.  Thing is, I haven't really had any burning subject to address.  There is much on my mind, as usual, but nothing that is shaking itself down into a single, neat little theme.  So for now here are a few subjects I have crowding my neurotic brain:

1. I HATE dealing with money.  Hate it.  And now that I have a house and kids and a reasonable income I have to get over my lifelong aversion to learning how money REALLY works in this complicated society.  Ugh.  The very thought of it all makes me want to have a little lie down.

2. One of my absolute, rage inducing peeves right now is second hand parenting - when other people decide to chime in and parent my kids.  I try never to do this to other kids, but yesterday I had to bite my tongue hard when other parents made me feel inadequate.  Their kids do stuff I don't like, or agree with, and I have never ONCE had to gall to say anything to their child.  In fact, I go out of my way to be loving to other peoples' kids, no matter what they do.  Because I remember so keenly how deeply affected I was by the admonishments of grown ups who were not my parents.  So there you go...I'm better than you!  (Ha - that was said very much with tongue in cheek.)

3. Now that the season is over I am reminding myself of rule number one of living in a town this tiny - do not let anything anyone else thinks or says about you in.  Don't worry about people who have opinions about how you keep your yard, or if you put up enough Christmas lights, or why you are no longer friends with someone, or where you park your car.  Don't worry about it, try not to think about it, and just try to be courteous and live peacefully among it all.

That's all for now.  A better post is coming.  I promise.  Soon.  Well, soon-ish.

Really Stupid Meme

I haven't had time to write a post for ages, and I have no inspiration, so I decided to copy the first meme questionairre I could find and without reading it over, to copy it and fill it out.  So here it is.  It's really stupid:

1. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?

I should brush Z's teeth while she's peeing.

2. How much cash do you have on you?

180 bucks.

3. What’s a word that rhymes with DOOR?

Albacore.

4. Favorite planet?

I have never given this a second of consideration.  This will not change.

5. Who is the 4th person on your missed call list on your cell phone?

I have never had a cell phone.

6. What is your favorite ring tone on your phone?

Good grief.

7. What shirt are you wearing?

A white T-shirt that I have never seen before but surfaced in my laundry basket when I was looking for a T-shirt.  It is, clearly, the Laundry Basket of Requirement.

8. Do you label yourself?

WTF?

9. Name the brand of the shoes you’re currently wearing?

My feet are unadorned.

10. Bright or Dark Room?

Bright in day, dark at night.  What a stupid question.

11. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?

I did not get it from another person.

12. What does your watch look like?

Silver, Anne Klein.  Pretty.  I'd rather have a large, silver man's watch because, clearly, cooler.

13. What were you doing at midnight last night?

I was asleep.

14. What did your last text message you received on your cell say?

Was this meme written by a cell phone company?

15. Where is your nearest 7-11?

About an hour's drive away.

16. What's a word that you say a lot?

"Clearly", clearly.

17. Who told you he/she loved you last?

J.

18. Last furry thing you touched?

A toy.

19. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?

I have taken much ibuprofen, as I have a migraine.

20. How many rolls of film do you need developed?

2001 called.  It wants this question back.

21. Favorite age you have been so far?

I do not play favourites with my own ages.

22. Your worst enemy?

There are so many...how could I ever pick just ONE?

23. What is your current desktop picture?

Kids.

24. What was the last thing you said to someone?

"Stop kicking the com-pillar!"

25. If you had to choose between a million bucks or to be able to fly what would it be?

Money.  No contest.

26. Do you like someone?

Like...or like like?

27. The last song you listened to?

"Tomorrow".  Performed by a three year old.

28. What time of day were you born?

Evening.

29. What’s your favorite number?

Why would anyone care?

30. Where did you live in 1987?

Victoria, BC.

31. Are you jealous of anyone?

I try not to be, but I sometimes am.

32. Is anyone jealous of you?

I think, probably, yes.  Maybe.

33. Where were you when 9/11 happened?

Langley, BC.

34. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?

Call the number and get my money back.  Not kidding.

35. Do you consider yourself kind?

Yes.  But I also consider myself mean.  Work that out.

36. If you had to get a tattoo, where would it be?

Never.

37. If you could be fluent in any other language, what would it be?

French.  It's such a beautiful sound.

38. Would you move for the person you loved?

We have moved many times, and always after discussion about what is best for all of us.

39. Are you touchy feely?

Can be.

40. What’s your life motto?

As long as it's funny.

41. Name three things that you have on you at all times?

Wedding rings and watch.  Except when I don't.

42. What’s your favourite town/city?

I love many.

43. What was the last thing you paid for with cash?

My grocery cart.

44. When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper and mailed it?

2001.  But I just GOT a letter.

45. Can you change the oil on a car?

No I cannot.

46. Your first love: what is the last thing you heard about him/her?

That he is as much of a loser as I remembered.

47. How far back do you know about your ancestry?

On one side, very far back.

48. The last time you dressed fancy, what did you wear and why did you dress fancy?

I wear fancy costumes all the time, for work.

49. Does anything hurt on your body right now?

Jeezus - all of it.

50. Have you been burned by love?

I am in my 40s, so yes.  

In Praise of Not Having it All

Infertility sucks.  No two ways about that.  Being unable to conceive when you want to conceive is a nightmare.  But now that I have been on so many sides of this parenting thing - a non-mom, a woman suffering from infertility, a pregnant woman, and now a mom, I have had a little something to say turning over in my mind for some time now.  So I think I'll say it here.  On my blog.  I want to say this right, without sounding in any way patronizing or ungrateful or anything negative.

I want to lay some praise down on those who live, by choice or by providence, in a state of non-parenthood.

A couple of posts ago I wrote about the difficulty I have had adjusting to the negative associations society makes with motherhood.  But I have also been in this other place - the place of being an aging woman without kids.  And society does a whole different number on that demographic.

I believe we still, even in this amazing time of freedom to make our lives look how we want them to look, expect that someday everyone will break down and have a kid or some kids.  We look at people who are off living marvelous, adventurous adult lives and we say: "That's great. Get it all in before the kids come and shackle you down."  We hardly ever say: "Cool, they're having a great life without kids.  Good choice."

I'm guilty.  Years ago, when I was in my 20s, I had a really good friend who was a few years older than I.  She was in her late 20s and she knew she never wanted to be a mom.  She was married.  She told me how she, a few times, had booked appointments to consult about having her tubes tied.  Every doctor refused to perform such a drastic operation on such a young woman.  One doctor said: "But what if your husband wants children one day?"  She replied: "I don't ever want kids.  Neither does he.  But if he suddenly changes his mind he'll have to go find another woman to do it with."  She was still denied the procedure.  When she told me her desire to render herself infertile I also said: "But what if you change your mind one day?"  I found it hard to believe she could be so resolute at such a young age.  When she turned 30 my friend went to a new doctor, explained her position, and the doctor said: "Well, you're 30.  You're a grown woman.  Let's do it."  And they did.  And she has never regretted or questioned her choice to close up shop.  Motherhood never interested her in the slightest.

I also have friends who always assumed they would be moms one day, but all kinds of circumstances made it not happen.  One woman tried to conceive for 15 years.  She tried the less invasive fertility treatments, she tried the holistic approach, she looked into adoption.  And then one day she was done.  She was sick of the whole roller coaster and so she got off the ride and decided to accept and love her life as it was, and is.  Another friend, nearing 40, realized she had devoted herself to her career and hadn't had kids.  She had always, always imagined she would be a mom one day.  And just when she had made the huge decision to go for it and get herself some fertility treatments her career took off in a profound and deeply fulfilling way and she went with that instead.  She cancelled the treatments and trusted the amazing path that life was throwing at her.

One of the hardest parts for me about being an aging woman without kids was the things people would say to me. When my body was shot full of hormones in preparation for our first IVF attempt I was having to endure these questions:

"So, you decided not to have a family, eh?'

"Why didn't you ever have kids?"

"Are you guys going to have kids?  You're running out of time!"

The few times I opened up and admitted J and I had been struggling with infertility I got some interesting responses.  Here's a sampling:

"Wow.  I got pregnant the first time we tried!" (Great.  Good for you.  Thanks for letting me know.  That was SUPER nice of you.)

"You can have one of mine!" (Hilarious.  You should get into stand up.  I'm laughing so hard right now I might punch you in the face.)

"Have you ever thought about adoption?" (Wow.  Adoption....  I just told you I have been trying to have a baby for six years and you think, you honestly f*cking THINK, adoption has never occurred to me?  Oh, and by the way, we no longer live in the decades when young women were shamed into giving away their babies, so adoption is not as easy as you assume.  And nowadays things like foreign and/or private adoption take a massive bank account.  Or, if you think you can do it, you can adopt a child who is handicapped, or emotionally troubled, and the people who do adopt these beautiful children are freaking heroes but I don't want that.  I am not a bad person for not wanting that.  I am honest about it.  I have a desire to have my own baby.  That's it.  And besides, adoption comes with restrictions and most agencies would consider me too old and too low income, so... please feel free to stuff your question up your... well, you know.)

People are often casually insensitive about fertility issues.

One day, when I was in my late 30s and still trying to conceive, a woman at work walked into the full staff room and asked to the room in general:  "How old is too old to be a mother?"  And the whole room started weighing in with their opinions.  It was generally agreed that if you are over 38 and you try to get pregnant you are a selfish asshole.  That was a fun day.

A woman who knew full well I was trying and failing and brokenhearted decided to make her screen saver her sister's ultrasound image and whenever she had a chance she would squeal with delight and swivel her computer so I could see it and then give me updates on the pregnancy.  Also fun. 

I know a woman who was unable to conceive who one day came home to find that one of her neighbours, upon hearing the infertility story, had run out and purchased a stone angel and placed it on my friend's doorstep.  In a bizarre attempt to "comfort" this poor, barren soul, this neighbour had actually dared to express her misguided pity with a surrogate baby in form of stone doorstop.  What comfort did this neighbour possibly imagine this might provide?Unbelievable insensitivity.  Although the angel is, apparently, a pretty good doorstop.

After six years of infertility I chose a stock response whenever anyone asked me about my childless state: "I believe reproduction is a personal matter." And I really do.  It's none of your damn business why I do or do not have kids.

So now here I am, at the other end of my fertility adventure.  I have my beautiful twins and I am in love with them.  But I also miss the hell out of being a non-mom.  SURPRISE!  Did not really see that coming.

Now I look at the non-moms in my realm and I appreciate so much what they have, and what they do.

My non-mom friends have a personal freedom I can now only fantasize about.  They go to the pub... whenever they feel like it!  They go to work without a thought about who is minding the kids while they are away.  They go on trips and watch grown up shows at any time of the day.  They have breakables on low shelves and cream coloured furniture.  They live rich, full, happy lives.

Some of these non-mom women are surprised to find themselves over 40 and childless. Some are childless by choice.  Some tried hard, but it did not happen.  These women, I'm sure, are sick to death of the questions: "Why didn't you have kids?"  "Are you going to have kids?" "I guess you couldn't have kids, eh?"  They know, of course, that people ponder their childless state behind their backs.  The gossip ladies in our Town certainly will have had the: "Well, I heard she really wanted kids but...." conversations.  But I try never to mention their childless state.  If they want to talk to me about it, I'm all ears.  But I will never, ever look at them as women who missed out.  Being a non-mom is cool, wonderful and brave, no matter what path got you there.

As an over 40 woman I want to really, honestly, honour the choices and paths my peers have taken.  Non-moms have great lives, careers, adventures.  Sometimes they even babysit for me and I totally get the speedy manner in which they get the hell out of my house when their shift is over and they can go back to their own houses where toys are not the new decor and they can have beautiful, breakable objects right down low because no little hands are going to smash up their stuff.  Non-moms have no obligation whatsoever to help me out with my kids.  My kids were my own choice.  But they often do help.  Cool women.

So, not sure if I've managed to say what I set out to say at the onset of this post, but what I want you non-moms to know is, you're cool.  And in the same way that I am blessed to have a life full of Wonder Pets and stuffed dogs and bums to wipe you are blessed to have lives full of freedom and breakables and stairs without gates.  Non-mom on, sisters.  You have my full support.

10 Years Old

The 22nd of August is my 10th wedding anniversary.  J and I are 10 years old!  We have been together for 12 years, and we have known each other for 14 years.

When J came to work at the Site in 1998 I instantly liked him.  He is that kind of guy.  He is unfailingly personable.  This is such a fortunate quality.  He genuinely cares that other people feel happy and comfortable and appreciated.  He lacks the tough shell that I have, and it makes him very beautiful and very hard to resist.

14 years ago, when I first encountered the man I did not know I would marry, I found him sweet, charming and kind of goofy in his earnestness.  14 years ago J was a beautiful boy with inspirational tattoos and a penchant for white, flowing, poofy shirts.  I heard him sing in a comedy show one night, and discovered that he has a heartbreaking voice.  Dude can sing.  When I sat next to him at the opening night of the Theatre Royal that season he told me how he had already been married and was in the process of divorcing, he had already  lived and studied in New York City.  I said: "You've packed a lot into 24 years!"  Little did I know, at that moment, that this is a guy who packs about a year's worth of experiences into every single week of his life.  This is a guy who has a kind of eager need to make sure he does not miss out on any adventure or crisis or opportunity.  This is a guy who wants to be liked, but never backs down from a challenge even if it means he might fail, or fall on his face.  This is a guy who grabs life.

14 years ago J went through a series of girlfriends at the Site before falling hard for someone unexpected - a tall, brilliant, kind of awkward girl who worked for a local historical society for the summer (let's call her A).  I barley noticed A that season, except that she seemed to be wound very tight.  She held her body in such a way that it appeared her muscles were always tense and ready for some unexpected attack.  She dressed like an artist and one night I heard her sing in the pub and she was really good and charming.  And that surprised and delighted me.  She also had a one in a million smile.  Like Julia Roberts, you could forgive this girl for anything once she flashed that smile (although I'm not sure I can forgive Julia for "Eat, Pray, Love," but that's a story for another day).  A and J seemed to fall into quite a serious thing that season.

At the start of the next season, in 99, J returned to town but he and A had split over the winter and he was torn up about it.  A was somewhere else that season.  She didn't seem to be in town.  J, in his state of heartbreak, went through a quick series of flings and I got a kick out of watching him with a different girl (seemed like) every week.  And each of these girls, briefly, had his full attention.  He is not a jerk.  But he is a romantic. Then A came back to town.  She and J did not get back together right away, as he was with someone else, but they did become roommates.

That summer I was working on my first ever solo show that would premier at the Vancouver Fringe in September so I was MIA as far as being in the social loop that season.  I was obsessed with my show so I had no idea that J and a little group of our friends were dealing with something much bigger than building a show.

A was indisputably brilliant.  I didn't know it at the time, but she was so academically gifted she had already been accepted to Oxford.  The other thing I didn't know was that she, like many people blessed with a super brain, was plagued with mental illness.  She was haunted with thoughts of suicide.  One day that summer J came home unexpectedly to the apartment he was sharing with A and another friend (he had left work early) and walked right into a scene of A trying to take her own life.  J and A weathered a massively painful and dramatic evening, and then, after that night, they became a couple once again.  As it seemed they were meant to be.

Now, as I have mentioned before, the town we live in has a spectacular rumour mill.  But the small group of people who were involved with this event (neighbours, for example) all agreed to a pact of silence and stuck to it.  To this day I am amazed at the ethics and honour of these people.  A's suicide attempt was not reduced to ugly gossip.  It was honoured with love by her friends.  I still well up when I think about that.

In fact, A's friends were so careful with this secret that I knew nothing about it until the week she succeeded in killing herself.

It was  between seasons at the Site and I was working in an art supply store in the big city.  One day I looked up and saw one of my friends from our small town in the store.  I was thrilled!  He was thrilled.  We hadn't seen each other in months and here we were bumping into one another in my store.  We made arrangements to meet for drinks in a couple of days.

It was a Thursday when my friend and I went to a local bar for a few drinks.  Another friend who also spent his summers up here and winters in the city (as I did at that time) joined us as well.

We had only just settled down with our drinks when my friend from our Town said: "I talked to J last night and he had the worst possible news."  He made this statement so casually that I thought he was going to say that J wasn't coming back to work at the Site for the upcoming season.  But that's not what he said.  What he said was this:

"A killed herself on Tuesday night."

I remember putting my glass down, looking him in the eyes, and just saying: "What?"

I was sure I must have heard him wrong.

And at that moment I got the whole story of what had transpired the summer previous, how A had tried then, and failed, mostly because J arrived home sooner than expected.

I went to A`s funeral in the city.  J sang, and spoke, and was beautiful.  In retrospect, I may have suspected at A`s funeral that I would marry that guy one day.

I called J a few days later and we hung out a couple of times in the few weeks before we were to head back up here for the 2000 season.  And once we got here we basically became inseparable.

The 2000 season was also the season that my friend - the daughter of the people I worked for - was dying of cancer.  Our whole company was in a state of crazy high emotion as we helped the family get through a season where they were trying to keep shows up and running while at the same time guiding their daughter to the end of her life.  J and I came together in a moment of mutual crisis.  But, as I have come to understand, it is these moments in life - when you have just faced or are just facing the reality of death - when you truly cut the bullshit and just live.  That summer of 2000 was intense, brutal, sad and euphoric.  And it was all those things every single day.

J and I didn`t know where our relationship was headed, but we did know that it was something.

That winter J stayed here and I went back to the city and we traveled back and forth to see one another almost weekly.  And then in April of 2001 I moved here and moved in with him.

And on the 22nd of August, 2002, we got married here.  In the Community Hall.

During the course of our marriage we have had the usual amount of ups and downs, but I would argue that we have had more than the average number of adventures.  J has forced me out of my comfort zone over and over.  I think I have shown him a lot about resolve and I have been able to help him with follow through on projects and ideas.  We have had a very good record of having break downs at opposite times so that one of us is weak while the other is strong.

And we had two babies.  And now the babies have turned into kids.  And J and I have gone from a couple to a family.  We have grown up stuff now, like jobs and a mortgage.  But in almost every way else we are still the same two people we were 12 years ago when we first, in the midst of chaos, loss and a mind blowing Northern Lights show, decided to give it a go.  I still look at my J and see the wounded 26 year old in the poofy shirt, but now I also see years of life lived with a man I still love with everything I`ve got.  I also see a man who has yelled at me when I needed to snap out of my stuck place of fear, a man who has beamed proudly at me from the audience when I opened a new show, a man who has been my champion through thick and thin.  I look at J and I see friend, boyfriend, husband, actor, director, provider, partner, Daddy to my Mommy.  And every day I am so proud to be his wife.