Appears I Am Going To Be OKEY-DOKEY!

This past weekend marked the end of my personal nine week challenge, which was to enjoy the cottage without the kids. As I climbed the 50+ stairs this morning in the dark, I was reminded just how quickly my time flew by.

Let me start by stating the obvious. I had fantastic 'challenge' weather. As a result, there was never a shortage of visitors. No matter if you arrived by car or by boat (you dined or you didn’t) the fact that we enjoyed time together is all that truly matters.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit that my nine weeks turned into a balancing act I’ve never had to endure before. There were no life jackets to find, no “he is/she is” cheating at Yahtzee fights to break up, nor any meals to be prepared on demand and by the clock. As selfish as it sounds, I loved it. My summer was perfect. To think that I worried at the start I would be lost. I am very pleased to report that I have found my way.

The fat lady officially sang late this past Saturday night. Kids having a blast while I was tucked into bed upstairs; I wasn’t worried for their safety, yet I really wished I’d have headed back into town for a good night sleep in my own bed. It was like a switch had flipped and I was released. That night changed me and everything came into focus.

For a number of reasons, 2012 will always represent a plethora of emotion.

Spring was superb; I'd leave work at lunch, head to the cottage, climb into bed for the afternoon and relax. The heat of the July took my commitment to exercise to the next level and I did my first back dive in over a decade. Oh, I read books; lots & lots of excellent books. My single guilty pleasure was that I refused to work every single weekend. This was definitely the cottage season for Rhondi.

Reflection, personal choices, and very fond heart-warming memories; may the leaves change and the water chill at the pace it chooses.  Makes no matter as I look to my next adventure...

I have some serious business to take care of which includes my downhill skis. Are you surprised that I can hear the circus music at Whistler playing really loud as I type?

Out Of The TWEET Blue Yonder…

Out of the blue I chatted with an acquaintance today and I must admit it took me a little by surprise. With our lives mutually hectic, it seems it's usually something quirky that has one sending the other a quick note.

Like most of my electronic friends; he and I usually catch up via BBM. I literally scroll past his name and face every single day but I seldom send a text and neither does he (hence why we've remained acquaintances).

Anyway, after I updated Twitter for work this morning, I logged onto my personal account and there he was. I couldn’t resist sending him a quick Tweet. Because he reads his Twitter feed on his Blackberry, mine buzzed almost instantly with a reciprocal Tweet and BBM had us catching up all morning.

I love Twitter. I enjoy Facebook but I absolutely love everything about Twitter.

I love that it's more of a social networking "service" as a pose to mainstream social networking. I take from it what I want, with the added bonus of getting a snapshot of where the world is "at" instantaneously. For those of you not on it, the only way I can describe #Twitter is that it gives the information injection I crave, keeping me in that ‘microblogging’ loop I love so very much.

While Twitter is great way to keep in touch with my "old friends", my new “call Friday friend” seems uninterested.  (I’ll remind him again this Friday, exactly what he’s missing!) For all others curious, I can be found @Rhon2TheDee.

I only have about 100 followers, but the key is to check out who I am following, and who they are following. A combination of any of these selected feeds will turn you into 'A Very Well Rounded Monday Morning Water Cooler Conversationalist’.

Try it, you just may like it. Better yet, you may end up loving it as much as I do.

Gonna Love the Next Two Weeks in Muskoka!

David arrived home today for a two week vacation. 

I've mentioned that he was just recently promoted, which in turn produced reservations about him taking this break from the city. Of course, as his mother, I offered to be his voice of reason. 

Out of the gate, I knew I had to choose my words carefully. After much consideration I went with “DUDE, they’re closing the restaurant for the last two weeks of August... Pack your shit and get the hell home!!!”  He agreed to my approach and voila he arrived today.

   

I absolutely love that he’s home. 

I can’t wait to watch him decompress and lose this newly inherited sense of intensity he's acquired. He honestly has a work ethic any parent would be proud of, yet when we were together as a family a couple of weeks ago, I was worried he was burning himself out.

His life here (as he knows it) has changed; his room is no longer his, there is a really uncoordinated puppy that will drive him bonkers, and his circles of friends have shifted in the last year.

Since Christmas he’s known he has no desire to return to Muskoka, problem is some of his childhood friends have no desire to leave. Guess it a simple question of ‘where does a bird and fish live?’ I've tried to explain it’s all about moving forward and growing as a person but I’m sure I sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Lord knows I make no sense to the lad 99% of the time!

Makes no matter; I’m glad he’s here because it’ll give me something to do. I’ll enjoy the guys coming and going from the house, all the while knowing that Orilla Lake is going to be put to good use.

His break comes at perfect time. Let’s hope he gets perfect weather. He’s earned it.

I Had My Best Friday Call EVER!

You know your life is simple when you look forward to a single phone conversation each and every Friday. I’ll be honest. I watch the clock. As 'crazy busy' as I was today, I still looked forward to laughing with my favorite geographically challenged colleague.

Last week on the radio, I heard that ‘men prefer women with a sense of humour over one with looks’. Though I find that hard to believe, I tend to agree with the statement. I love a man that can make me laugh.

I embrace every kind of humour but quick wit is my favorite. I love (and totally respect) a person that can be in the moment. Someone that can keep up with me and the comedic train wreck I always offer. I take my shots, they take theirs, it’s all in good fun. Never spiteful; yet heartfelt, genuine, and respectful.

I feel I should mention that we’ve raised our children to understand and also embrace humour.

My pic of Staci and David was taken when they were six. At twenty, if I would have had them on the speaker phone for my call this afternoon, they would have laughed as hard as I did.

At the end of the day, humour is a universal language.

I’m not sure why I look forward to my silly little weekly call so much. 

It’s not because it’s clandestine; everyone in my office knows I get the call (truthfully they tend to hang around to overhear the banter). Heck, last week I took my call at home and the entire house could hear me laughing. Tony was nice enough to usher the dogs from my office so I wasn’t disturbed.

Why do I look forward to my Friday afternoon endorphin raising phone call so much?

Because it’s mine! 

I Miss My Dad.

I really miss my Dad. He passed in 2005 but he is forever mentioned in my conversations & he crosses my mind and heart every single day.

Growing up, figure skating was my mom's deal. All other sports, building a fire, fast frying fish, changing a furnace filter? Poppa gets total credit!

Rummaging through my photos last weekend,  I came across a large manila envelope of pictures we shared at his funeral. The one I am posting now was taken two weeks before his friend Herve saved his life. I hadn’t seen it since his passing yet it still really speaks to me.

When I look at this beautiful photo I see a man that is home. He worked hard all his life and ended up exactly where he wanted to be. Living on the lake he grew up on, feeding the birds, forever tinkering, waiting for his family to arrive.

I’ll never forget the call. It was 3am. It was my Aunt. My father had suffered a serious heart attack; Herve had stabilized him and gotten him to the hospital. Plan was to try and move him into Ontario. My Aunt told me to "prepare the family.”

That was December 23^rd, 2004. He pulled through and we moved my father into our home December 31. He passed in my arms on June 23, 2005. In those six months, my entire personal outlook on life changed. I changed and as a family we changed.

I look at this amazing photo and I see love. For those six months we were in this odd yet indescribable bubble. Not focused on the fact that it would end, nor worried that it would end, as a family just living in the moment. He was with us and we felt we'd been hand picked to handle his incredible journey.

Right or wrong, I never shared with my father the life expectancy they'd  given him in the hospital. Instead, I loaded him in the car and brought him back to Muskoka. Over the winter, we'd chat about `how we could elevate his gardens at the lake so he didn’t have to bend down’, and `how he’d have to get an apartment in the winter because living on Lake Temiscaming year round was no longer an option’.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that when I admire this photo I also see Herve and Karen. They too were his family. Before travelling to Muskoka for his service, Karen went down to his beach and filled a mason jar with his sand. She placed it in his casket and it was buried with him.

I can't emphasize enough that Bracebridge was where he raised his family but Lake Temiscaming was always his home. Even today, it feels peaceful to know the two were once again reunited, mason jar and all. Very fitting actually.

I love you Poppa....

Where Were You In April 1993? I Was On Vacation!

When I was cleaning out the garage this weekend, I came across a very large tote of photos and photo albums. Because digital photography has become such a big part of my life, I rarely go back and glance at the thousands of photos I have been hoarding over the years.

As I started to snoop, my heart literally skipped a beat when I came across some black and white photos of our very first family vacation. The twins were ten months old and Jamie was about three and a half. Man, I remember how hard we saved for that trip. Seems like a lifetime ago.

David and I in the Lazy River

Originally, it was planned as a couple’s vacation. My father lived across the street, and all winter long pressed “they’re too little to leave, they’re too little to leave, they are too little to leave.” 

So, with less than a month before our departure, an executive decision was made. We were taking the kids. 

With a flip of a switch, my father's message immediately became much louder and had more conviction; “They’re too little to take…THEY'RE too little to take... THEY ARE TOO LITTLE TO TAKE!” God’s honest truth of the matter was my dad didn’t want us to go. He didn't want us to go, and I have never been afraid of a challenge. Long story short? We went!

I recall the car was strategically packed. Folding strollers, walkers, and enough crap to choke an elephant. The plan was eight hours a day on the road with six of those driving. (A couple of three hour stints, with a two hour break in between to wear the youngsters out.) Our destination was Myrtle Beach South Carolina.

Staci started walking in Myrtle Beach

We stayed in an excellent  three story family hotel (that has since been torn down) and we were on the second floor. We had an oceanfront room so that when the kids napped we could have the nursery monitor with us by the pool.

I remember on the third day I was reading in the sun and I heard the maid go into the room unannounced.  I have never bolted out of a lawn chaise so fast in my life.  The only thing going through my head as I ran the stairs two at at time was “wake ‘em up and I’ll freaking kill ya!”

Seriously, as you can imagine, from the time of our arrival we were quite the circus side show. On our second day, we met a couple from Hamilton Ontario; Don & Pearl Vernon. With a grown daughter of their own, they had empathy for the work we went through that first day,  to say the least they were extremely helpful. 

With a main floor oceanfront room, Don & Pearl would make a make shift playpen with lounge chairs to make it easier for us. Don would stay with Jamie in the kiddie pool so we didn't have to leave the twins when they were awake. I also remember that on our second last day, they watched the kids as they had their nap so we could enjoy a quiet walk on the beach. It was a great vacation all around.

Yesterday, I also came across the card I received with the photos dated May 23rd that year. Opening that hand written note from Pearl took me back in time. 

Jamie  & his Kiddie Pool Lifeguard Don.

We did manage to keep in touch after that trip. Christmas cards, phone calls, more photos exchanged for about the next three years. Like a lot of things in life, day to day brings change.

No matter how much time passes. I will never minimize the dear memories I have.

Reflecting, they were amazing people that taught me to always to give back and pay it forward.

....Forever thankful is all I can say.

Damn Those Wheels On The Bus!

I enjoyed a very productive day yesterday. It was rainy, quiet, but extremely productive to say the least. Friday afternoons in the heart of the summer tend to be quiet but yesterday was downright peaceful.

My boss worked from home, which is always like a vacation day for me, and the much needed Irish mist weather kept the phones silent. I chatted with my favorite colleague in Kitchener (at least three times), appreciated an unexpected lunch date, and received my standing “Rhondi? It's Friday" call that always makes me laugh.

I absolutely love to laugh. I'm of the opinion that my smile is never meant to be turned upside down. The truth is, a frown always manages to consume me. I'm first to admit that sadness is a mindset so I try not to “go there". If I ever do, I tend to rationalize that it's because I am so focused. It's kind of like; when something doesn’t sync, I literally do the same, and sink.

For many different reasons it was a crazy week for me. I know it has a lot to do with my visit with David but it has honestly been a combination week of both interesting and odd. All and all, in a nutshell, I've been working overtime trying to turn my frown upside down.

In trying to relate to my mood, a friend ask me a critical question over lunch. “Do you ever think that we put so much of ourselves into our children, that everything in life continues to grow except us?” WOW. How wise? He's absolutely right. Then again, he should be wise; he's very old and has really bad cataracts!

All joking aside, I am sad to admit that when I don’t know the answer to a simple question it can keep me awake at night. I hate those silly little questions and answers.

Why are some decisions so hard to make and others so easy?  After all, I’m a decision maker right? Just decide! I would decide, except at this juncture in my life I don't think I know the real question. Hence my ongoing journey...

Damn those wheels on the bus. Sometimes I just wish they's stop going round and round, so I can enjoy a minute and a half of peace and quiet!

The Ubiquitous Rhondi Who? What the Hell is A Rhondi?

I think we are all in agreement that people come in and out of our lives every single day. The God’s honest truth? I meet so many people in a day, that some days it’s hard to grasp the volume. Yes-sir-ree-Bob-a Roonie, I AM the Wal-Mart greeter. Problem is I'm not 75yrs old. Trickier move is that I don’t work at Wal-Mart.

Why this particular mindset you ask? 

I had a builder call me today. He called to tell me his clients literally “raved" about me. He continued to say that no matter what, "he was to work very closely with me, because I knew exactly what they (his customers) wanted.” Without a word of a lie, I am embarrassed to admit, I've no recollection of ever meeting these people. Better yet, these folks called asking me to dine with them and I have no clue what they even look like. (You`ll be pleased to know I declined the dinner invitation.)

Let me side step a little and head back to Orillia Lake. I'm told it's "cute" but in the scheme of Muskoka grandeur, realistically it is glorified camping. For the last decade, people have said to me “Rhondi, I have no idea where your cottage is…” and there is a truly reason for that. Because of what I do for a living, very few have ever been invited to enjoy this little haven. It’s not because I don’t want to entertain, I do. It's just that it has slowly become a place to decompress and replenish from day to day life. In a nutshell, my life consist of so many people, all of the time, that reading a book alone has become my very best friend. 

All of that gibberish said, a day like today makes me take a step back and wonder. When it comes to people, how the heck do I decide who I let into the party, and who gets left at the door? I want to let everyone in but we all know that's impossible.

Suffice is to say that 90% of the peeps get left at the door. Good news is, for all of those that are left, I play music. I'll quote Smartie and unconditionally  “CRANK THE CLASH BABY” Seriously, Brian always knows best, you can never ever go wrong with The Clash! 

Proud As A David Peacock...

So my whirlwind GTA adventure was tres formidable. The only downside? It was planned in a flash and over just as fast.

We arrived in Yorkville about 6:30pm with an 8:30 dinner reservation at Actinolite (Dave was texting me like crazy to ensure we were on schedule).  I could tell when we arrived; he was excited to see us, proud to show us off, and maybe even a little nervous. This was an 'all hands on deck' family event. After all, he was now assigned his own station in the kitchen, and we were all very excited to share in his promotion.

Let me start by saying, as a proud mommy hen, I had decided I was only going to order from the menu ensuring David was going to prepare it for me. Sad to admit, I am a really picky eater. I knew the menu had changed since my visit at the end of June but I was anxious just the same. Saying that 'I am not the least bit adventurous with food' would be an understatement. That said, David hit it out of the park. Bazzzzinga Baby!

We finished our dining experience around eleven, took a cab back to the hotel, and David joined us when he was done at around twelve thirty. The fact that we were jam-crammed into a teeny tiny hotel room made no difference, we were together again, and that was all that mattered. He was exhausted but he and I chatted and laughed, eventually turning the lights out at about two thirty Sunday morning. 

Enjoying the Toronto Harbourfront

Up and at 'em early we were onto our next plight, what the hell to do for the day. We decided on a walkabout the city. We had a great day. A really great day!

In less than a month, it will be a year since, I cried my eyes out as I left my son in a house with strangers, on Queen Street in downtown Toronto. I vividly remember the tears that day. His were of fear and excitement, mine were filled with worry and love.

Yesterday there were tears (there always are) but this time my tears offered me brutal clarity. My tears were due to the the pain of once again parting. His, for the first time, were different. They were in empathy for my pain. He knows he’s home but feels the need to keep helping me with my continued transition.

It’s a harsh motherhood reality when you realize your child doesn’t need you anymore. I wish he still needed me but the truth is he doesn't. His ever growing independence is unmistakable. 

As I wipe my eyes as I type, all I can say is that I am so very proud of the beautiful iridescent blue-green coloured plumage this mature David Peacock has grown. His hard work and determination will serve him well in life. I know he's going to kick some serious culinary industry ass. I love ya Goob!

911 GOOB Alert! Code Blue...GTA Stat!!!

I remember my sister in law asking me when my kids first started school if I “still had those silly little nicknames for them?”  My answer fifteen years ago was yes and today the answer is still yes.  From the day Jamie was born he’s been “Bud”, Staci’s been “Sweetie” and David’s been “Goob”.

Why so reflective? I am really missing Goob. I am missing Goob so much it hurts. As a result; Tony, Staci and I are heading into the GTA tomorrow to spend some much needed quality time with him. 

I work until one and Sweetie works until four. (Tony, I suppose, is on standby ‘awaiting further instruction’.) I hate that we don’t have a plan but sometimes they are the best experiences right? Yes they are, yes they are, and yes they are.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the city. I love that I have to be so nice to people for a living, that I can be generally rude and just blend in.  I love the pace. I love the shopping. 

That said, what are we going to do? We texted Wonderland the last couple of days but it’s calling for electrical storms, Jays are away, and who goes to Ontario Place? Is it even open? ROM, done. Stage West, done. Casa Loma, done. I think you get the picture.

Xmas Eve 2010 w/ Grandma & Grandpa Peacock

Why am I over thinking? It's because I just want him to really enjoy the little time he has away from his extremely hectic journey.

In the end, I know in my heart it won't matter. When I wrap my arms around him, he’ll be fine because he'll be home.

Best part about tomorrow? His twin sister is missing him just as much as we are. All I can say is, how cool is that?

PS - To this day, the only person allowed to call him Goob is me. 

PSS - Thank gosh his friends don't bother with this silly little blog!

RHONDI's Best Surprise EVER!

When it comes to my "ordinary small town life", I am first to admit that it literally has a zero element of surprise.

I’m not kidding; my life has such a regimented routine, that if I were to pack my lunch bag blindfolded, I will still know exactly how I will dine at noon. For the record, I refuse to say my life is 'boring', I prefer the phrase 'extremely well structured'. That said, I think the evolution of my “same shit different day” routine progressed quite slowly.

I’m sure it all has something to do with my age. (Though my 'glass half full' attitude makes me think that the most successful people compartmentalize parts of their lives for sheer efficiency.) Some may label me anally retentive, whatever; Freud’s dead so why worry about his theories. Seriously, why?

Anyway, this morning I was headed for a pretty standard Thursday. I"ll admit I was a little more tired than normal but nothing a cup/pot of coffee wouldn't remedy. Because I had taken yesterday afternoon off, my phone was on “do not disturb” until I went for my lunch.

ENTER THE BEST SURPRISE I HAVE EVER HAD...

Photo Cred:
BG Photography ~ Georgian Bay

For quite some time now I have been working with an Architect from New Orleans, on a very upscale boathouse build on Lake Muskoka.  

After several conversations about his project, I decided to share my blog link. He read it, and we became electronic friends.

Today, after I finished my lack luster lunch, I returned to the showroom to find him standing there right in front of me. Not on my Blackberry screen, not in my email inbox, nor via a voicemail message awaiting a call back. He was here, in Bracebridge, to see me!

I looked at him and I was absolutely and unequivocally speechless. Seriously, those of you that know me, I mean really know me, know that is truly impossible. He witnessed my shock. I couldn't speak, I just wanted to grab him. I’ve never thought about hugging a voice before, but he was right in front of me... and let's face it, we all know I am a hugger.

WOW! Today I experienced my very first “...What the hell is happening here Batman” moment !!

I'll stop by saying this, it's not that I dislike surprises, I am just pleasantly surprised that this unique emotion could offer a simple gal like me such an amazing euphoria. Who knew?

Thank you my friend. You truly made my day.

I’ve Missed You Doctor Johnny Fever!

I had a great day at work today. Not because I usually have a bad day but because today was an exceptionally good one.

Did start questionably, for the first time in forever I was running late, turns out it made no matter. Once at work, my morning flew by.  As my day progressed, I was pleasantly surprised when young Darren stopped in to say hello as well as my friend and colleague John.

It’s always nice to see both fellas, but today it was especially pleasant to see John. We greeted each other with mutual grandeur, I teased him with sarcasm (as I always do), and he complimented me on how I look. Actually, he told me... "you look great!" 

After I ran back to my lunch bag and fetched the ten bucks I generally pay out for compliments, I thanked him and quickly disclosed that “I haven’t looked nor felt this good about myself in ten years.” 

No questions asked, for the last decade, John has always been extremely supportive of me. He is an amazing leader, great with people, and I sense he loves life in general. I do tend to tease him about the market but I have an unconditional respect for his knowledge and business savvy. He`s a great guy.

As expected, we briefly chatted about the past, a mutual acquaintance, and my letting go. I don’t care who you are; how one deals with something (that I will label) personally traumatic, only happens when your heart heals, and your soul is ready. 

This summer has proven, that with my focus on inner balance & personal happiness solidified, certain things are best left in the past. As I said to the kind Doctor, “it was time.” After he left, I couldn't help but look inward. For a journey that literally began about two years ago, I have truly come a very long way. 

In a nutshell, here's how I see it. I can keep my heart closed in a darkened room, or I can open my heart and let light in and brighten my room. It is a matter of choice. My mind is my room.  Do I darken it, or do I fill it with light? I say bring on the light baby, I’m all about the UV Rays, the Vitamin D, and the tunes!

Thank you again Johnny Fever, it was great to see you. 

Reality, What a Concept! ~Robin Williams

The last couple of days I have been asking myself “am I honestly being realistic?” Not specifically with one aspect of my life but a number of things; my job, my family as well as my personal happiness.

I consider myself a pretty well rounded chick, for some time now I’ve touted that I am eternally optimistic yet cautiously realistic. But for some strange reason lately, I just seem to be setting myself up for insurmountable disappointment. You know the kind, when you burn your hand using the barbeque and the very next night you do the same thing hoping for a different result? That’s describes me to a tee the last few weeks. Guess my mantra should really read eternally optimistic yet perpetually unrealistic!

Life is a journey, I get that. (Lord knows I’ve read enough Facebook status updates to surmise it must be pure fact.) But why is it that I feel like I have been travelling down a questionable path? I know what the result will be. Realistically, I want to hesitate, yet the journey has me so intrigued I stay engaged.  More often than not, I tend to glorify the passage only to be disappointed when the alarm clock rings and I am given a much needed reality check.

All of that said, since I moved out to the cottage, I have continued asking myself some very tough questions.  As a result, I have cleared a lot of the bothersome cobwebs. (I must admit it feels amazing to rid the clutter.) It feels so good, that I picked up the phone Thursday afternoon and called the exterminator to finish the job!

Not quite sure why I am feeling a little funky this Saturday morn. Sad to report that confusion finds me more often than not. Am I feeling pessimistic or am I feeling optimistic?

With a roller coaster week behind me, on this sunny Saturday in Muskoka, let's go this route. Some say "their glass is half empty", some say "their glass is half full," I say"Ya gonna drink that?!?!"

HENS I’m pouring. Pouring all afternoon on the dock. Get the heck over here pronto!

Focus On What Matters & Let Go Of What Doesn't!

I have a ‘three times rule”. There I said it. It’s a personal philosophy I embrace, and yesterday (for the first time in a very long time) I put my rule into effect. In a nutshell, I never do, nor allow anything to happen three times, that I don't want to perpetuate for the long run.

My rule came into my life in a rather unconventional way. I started working for David Grant in the 1990’s. The first week as plant accountant, my good natured side asked my new boss “if he’d like me to get him a cup of coffee”.  To this day, I remember jumping out of my skin when he roared “NEVER ASK ME THAT QUESTION AGAIN!”

When I asked why, his response hit home. “Rhondi, today you ask if I’d like a cup of coffee. If I say yes, I guarantee you’ll ask me again tomorrow” he continued.  “A second time will lead to a third, and once you do something three times it’s your job. More so, it’s acceptable and expected behaviour!”

To offer insight, the first time my sixteen year old son missed a payment on his new laptop, I warned that it was unacceptable. The second time, I reminded, and the third time I repossessed the sucker! Had I let the third Friday pass, non-payment would have been acceptable behaviour and the debt would not have been expected to be paid.

You probably think it’s silly but I apply my "three times rule" at work, home, with immediate family, friends even acquaintances. If I don’t want to do something three times I don’t! If I’m unsure and I agree, after the first time, I explain my concern, pull away after the second and completely walk away after the third. It is that matter a fact for me.

I know it all sounds very black and white, but today I feel relief that I made the right 'me' decision yesterday. I no longer have the expectation looming overhead. Trust me, the approach can appear harsh but it’s one I fully embrace.

As I discover who I am, what I want, and what I need, I’d say yesterday was a giant step forward for me.  It reinforced that I am solely responsible for every life choice and personal decision I make, period.


Onward and upward Peeps!

Gotta Love The Great Outdoors!

Because we had a really early thaw in Muskoka this year, Orillia Lake was open and ready for business more than two months earlier than last year.

I still find it hard to fathom that this amazing haven stayed virtually abandoned for the 2011 cottage season. As a direct result, I decided that I would move in from Canada Day until Labour Day this year, to truly understand if I could reinvent my summers there without the children present.

I am pleased to report that my relocation last weekend was successful.  With one week under my belt, all I can say is that it makes me sigh knowing there are only seven left.  I can’t believe I’d forgotten how being 10 miles from town is so much more relaxing, not to mention so much more enjoyable.

I have truly missed everything about Orillia Lake. I eat differently, I sleep differently and I exercise more (both my mind and my body) and I feel like a completely different girl.

For all the fun and frolic, it was a lot of work settling in. It was bananas! The lawn hadn’t been cut, the hot water tank had to be reset a bazillion times, shoreline needed tending but the biggest chore was accomplished Sunday. The outdoor shower (with brand new rainfall shower head) was finally relocated.  

It was moved for a couple of reasons; one, the view, and two, its new proximity to the nearest door. Boy, my new ten foot walk is exhilarating not to mention liberating. 

It's been a great week. The warm water, fresh morning air, and the sound of the singing birds have completely changed my disposition and overall attitude. I love, love love it. I love all of it.

So I guess I showed me. I was so afraid to stay at the cottage without the kids that I wasn't going to try. My week reminds me that 'you should always face your fear'. Face it head on without hesitation. I did just that, and I'm having a blast.

Now, if could I only find someone who’d listen to Sarah McLachlin and paint my toenails with me, I’d be golden!

Can Both The Question & Answer Be Why?

I like to think of myself as an easygoing gal. Fifteen years ago, maybe not so much, but as the children matured and juggling home and a career became easier, so did my demeanour.

Let me rephrase. It’s not that I wasn’t easy going back then, I was just a little more intense about life in general.  In a nutshell, if provoked, (the kids will attest that) it could quickly get loud. Now days, about as loud as I get is typing in ALL CAPS with my Yahoo email account because you’ve either called me “Ma’am” or perhaps picked an inopportune time to remind me that you “don’t yell”.

I haven’t talked about this much, but my nest emptying was much more difficult than I could have ever imagined. It changed me. It changed my outlook on life and the direction I wanted (as well as no longer wanted) to move in.  It’s been a very trying time for me but one of self discovery.

Enjoying this past Canada Day weekend I began to replay where I was on my personal journey last fall. The thought of October 2011 still haunts me and exactly how dark I was feeling. November had me telling myself to smarten up and by December I had made some very personal choices.

As the months passed, and I rang in 2012, new friendships were made. As a result, each passing month my mood improved. Like anything in life there’s ebb and flow, but for the most part my rediscovery of myself came slowly and without fanfare.

I’m not exactly sure why I am feeling reflective today. That's a lie. I know exactly why. It’s because you never know why people, places, or things drift in and out of your life. It’s a matter of fact. It’s a matter of the life cycle in general. They just do. Having said all that, I also believe for a number of reasons some (both people and items) are meant to stay and I am sad to admit some others are not.

After a series of events over the course of this past weekend,  I suppose I was just second guessing....Why? This morning my answer became clear. 
Q: Why are some meant to stay and others are not? 

A: Doesn't matter why! Keep moving forward and don't look back!!

The First Sign of Addiction is Denial. Who's in Denial?

As you all know, and I readily admit, I am a social media junkie. I could easily stand up at a meeting and say “Hello, my name is Rhondi, I am a Crackberry addict, and it’s been an entire week since my last Facebook update.” I can hear the applause now!

Seriously, this morning I was walking to work, when a builder pulled up alongside me. He rolled down the passenger window and hollered; “headphones in, head down and texting, I should fine you for distracted walking!" All I could do was laugh and acknowledge the reality of the situation at hand, “BUSTED” I yelled.

As I continued on the home stretch to the office, his comment sounded like a bit of a reality check. So I decided make a list (go figure) of my so called 'indulgences'.

I Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and let’s not forget my beloved blog.  I chat; BBM, MMS/SMS, Yahoo, MSN, WhatApp and Facebook takes the lead with a second nod. So I am sure you’re wondering if I have an e-mail account? Let’s see, work (x’s 2), Yahoo (x’s 2), Hotmail, Gmail and Cogeco.  Holy Doodle, could I really be addicted?

It’s a hard question to ask oneself, but I did, and here is my answer: “the first sign of addiction is denial”. Keeping with that premise, “I know I’m a social media junkie; therefore I am not in denial, so therefore I’m not a social media junkie!” Pretty self-explanatory if I do say so myself.

Honestly, I know there have been times I thought maybe getting a little excessive. Last summer was pretty bad. (Pleased to report that Saturday of last Labour Day long weekend was quiet. May have been because I couldn’t find my phone.)

Hectic fall, but forgot my phone at home a couple of days in January so that was significant. I also really tried to minimize my usage in Jamaica, so for the first few days I never took my phone to the beach. As a result, my roaming for the week was only $354.72. Way to go me...

I guess with the kids gone, my Crackberry has become an extension of me. Yesterday, I was sitting in a golf cart waiting to tee off, when I began to respond to a BBM message from Smartie, who was sitting at YYZ waiting to head back to Whitehorse.  Paying no mind to the amazing company I was keeping he said “Geez, can you type any faster?”

My response? ”What the hell !?! Just because your piece of crap iPhone doesn’t make a cool clicking sound when you type is not my problem!” There you have it. Not my fault I have fast thumbs combined with razor sharp wit. 

All Inclusive trip to Negril, Jamaica     $6,000

Spa Treatment on the beach                 $350

Snorkelling and a trip to Rick’s Café     $150

The ability to upload photos and update my Facebook status from anywhere? PRICELESS!

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words...

As promised, I took advantage of my Chiropractor working Saturday and as an added bonus, I got to witness my son David in action at the restaurant he's working at in downtown Toronto called  Actinolite.

David and I try and get together at least once a month. That said, I know since our last visit he's been struggling  with the very long hours and lack of sleep, so I worry. Not going to lie, the first thing I noticed? As suspected, he’s underweight (almost gaunt) and he looked exhausted.

We were very excited to see each other. He gave me several great big hugs, called me Mommy (which will never gets old), and he introduced me to his team as "Big Hair Mama Bear" which is par for the course.

The difference this visit was how there was no subtle change only evident maturity. After sharing his desire to work in Italy, he kept his composure as he quietly whispered in my ear, “it's okay mommy, please stop crying”, that's when it hit me. He's become a man, a good man.

As I headed home, I confided in a friend that my heart was heavy and my eyes were damp. I was explaining how seeing David makes me miss him even more. In turn, he sent me this picture of a loon mother and her chick that he’d taken at his cottage on Georgian Bay last summer. 

His photo was accompanied by the following note. “Taken early one morning I thought of you and David.” His next comment was what truly struck home.

“It’s perfect as that it was taken a year ago” he continued. “By now, that loon chick has long left the side of his mother but will always know how to find her when he needs her.”

My eyes filled with tears as I typed my heartfelt and instant response of thank you… His photo and his very well chosen words put my weekend into proper perspective,  which is that I am a very lucky lady.

(Here's a link for the restaurant where David works as reviewed in Toronto Life Magazine.) 

http://www.torontolife.com/daily/daily-dish/opening-daily-dish/2012/04/04/introducing-actinolite/

Wash Rinse Repeat. Wash Rinse Repeat. Wash Rinse Repeat.

Crazy as it sounds, some weeks I feel like every day is Groundhog Day. You know, wash, rinse, repeat? I work every weekend. Though I am not expected to work every Saturday, I usually do. 

It's a tough reality to admit that my life peaks at boring. Heck, a trip to the Chiropractic office is like a day at the circus for me!  (Downside?... My Chiropractor doesn’t work on Saturday. Ba-dumm-bump!!)

I'm only questioning the whole 'Groundhog Day' scenario because last Saturday was the same but different for me, and I think there may be hope.

Up at my regular time, I decided to “make hay” while the caffeine in my system was doing its thing. Completed my chores and carefully watched the clock so that I could shower and head into work. As I crossed the items off my "list of things to do" I could feel myself decompressing.

As my morning list shortened, my afternoon list grew. Dogs needed new matching collars (pet store), golf balls were on sale (Canadian Tire), my toe nails needed painting (and most importantly) the sun needed worshiping. Hence, I skipped going to the office.

Sunday was a perfect day as well. Had my one cup of coffee on the front deck, mowed the lawn before ten and spent the day outside. After a nice supper, I fell asleep watching the final round of the US Open.

Knowing my "work list of things to do" was longer than a one armed paper hanger, I showed up for work this morning at 7am. First words uttered were not "how was your weekend" but “I expected to see you Saturday”. 

Glass half full? This afternoon I got an email from my Chiropractor's office. Seems he’s working Saturday’s starting next weekend.

Guess what? I've had a Bill Murray breakthrough. I won't be working next Saturday either!

“Don’t Cry Because It’s Over, Smile Because It Happened” Dr. Seuss.

RIP CHUBBS

It’s a week today since my dogs disappeared and all week I have been struggling to come to terms with what happened. I’ve tried and tried to put something into writing about my beloved Daisy but my thought process keeps racing back to how she was killed rather than the joy she brought everyone around her.

She spent her life on a ten foot lead, and loved it. Go figure!

She arrived to us with the name Daisy but as her solid canine understanding of North American dining terms grew (treat, lunch, toast) so did her girth. Quite quickly her stature became more rotund, and she endearingly became known to those closest to her as “Chubbs”. “Chubbs McGubb” to be exact.

Chubbs was the perfect pet. I did a lot of reading once she arrived home. The most important thing I discovered was that beagles are extremely sensitive. If you never strike your beagle, they in turn become fiercely loyal. Never once did I raise a hand to her and our bond with each other was indescribable. 

I am the first one to put up my hand and admit that this last year for me has been difficult to say the least. When the snow left, I knew that I had found my way and I would A-OK, now this.  As silly as it sounds, I feel like I am mourning the loss of a child.

DEE

Right or wrong, I did get another dog this week. She’s an 8 week old and a purebred yellow lab and I have named her Dee in memory of Daisy. She’s crazy uncoordinated, has teeth like razor blades and is driving Dottie absolutely bonkers!!!

Last night, in an effort to contain this “hell on wheels” infant, I dug out Daisy’s baby gate from the garage. Gate in hand, I exited the garage just in time to find her tugging on my golf towel, and knocking over my brand new golf clubs.

It appears I have another baby on my hands. Wish me luck… I’m gonna need it!

The Twins Are Twenty? How Can That Be? I'm Only Twenty-Nine!

Where does the time go? Honestly, this week I have stopped many times to wonder. 

I'm healthy, happy, active, and I don’t feel like a middle aged woman. Lord knows I don’t act like one either but all week I have been asking myself; “How did I get to the point in my life when part of it feels like it's already a blur?”

My youngest children, Staci and David celebrated their 20^th birthday this week. Twenty!

It's like it was yesterday the ultra-sound technician announced; “Oh my Mrs. Peacock, you are going to have a multiple birth” to which I immediately burst into tears.

I’d love to type that they were tears of joy but they were tears admitting “I’m not a strong enough woman to have three children in diapers.” Turns out I was.

Growing up, neither my husband nor I ever really had "birthday parties", so the celebration of birthdays in our family home was always an excuse for great fun. 

Jamie was born in February, so we’d rent the ice surface or the pool at the Centennial Centre, and later on head to the slopes for snowboarding.

Staci and David, as June babies, always had outdoor parties. Thirty kids at Williams Park with water balloons, Santa’s Village, even the cottage jammed full of kids (boys downstairs, girls upstairs) piled three high. With the twins, one party was always easier. One day, two births, one celebration. (Some years they hated each other at the time, which presented challenges, but for the most part they were a success.)

The 20^th birthday just celebrated is representative of change in many ways. For the first time in their lives they didn’t celebrate it together and for the first time ever we didn’t celebrate as a family. No cake, no balloons and I gave them the gift that just keeps giving, CASH!

Funny, when we left David in downtown Toronto last September, I remember he said to me “Mom you keep joking that you’re getting a one bedroom apartment with no pull out sofa... but you're going to miss us”. I laughed at the time but my boy's wise.

I’d give anything to be pushing my double stroller again, waving at the Glaziers as we passed. Two toddlers in the seats and Jamie standing on the back. Our dog Sammy's leash, strapped to the side, and a diaper bag over my back. We’d be heading to town.

Putting everything into perspective, I made Wonder Woman look like a wimp!

Perhaps that is why I have seen such success. To this day, I do what it takes, whatever it takes, to get it done and 'Get It Done' right!  David and Staci are both the same way, and I know they will see great success in life.

That’s not Mom talking, that the reality of whom they are as young adults.

Today's Post is Brought To You By The Number Three!

They say everything comes in threes. Today, for the first time in forever, I enjoyed a really great 'set of threes'.

I produced the first quarter sales figures (amazing), I enjoyed an ice cream cone at work (sinful), and out of the blue, I had a really great conversation with a true friend (WOOT) !!

Like I said; great set of threes. The first two are self explanatory but the third honestly caught me by surprise.

Yesterday reminded me that the voice of a true friend has a comfortable rhythm. A specific tone, that is unconditional. It comes right from your heart, and once you find that level of comfort, I believe it stays with the friendship for a lifetime.

Mac and I started working together in 1994. We started with our new employer one week apart and became instant friends.

Our friendship led to “couples friends”, which led to the guys playing on the same ball team, not to mention dinner parties and lots of golf. Holy doodle that seems like a million years ago !!

Just like “Smartie” and “Twos”, my friendship with “Mac” got lost in the day to day shuffle called Life. Today has proven that everything is definitely aligning.

One: I'm giddy thinking that Brian is flying into YYZ in two weeks from Whitehorse. Two: Ecstatic that Tim's baby girl has his heart (we're going to Nashville to meet her)! Three? Jamie and I promised to find the time to golf together sooner than later.

Yup, my new favorite number is three. Except when it comes the proverbial three putt. Oh, and three strikes you're out!

I'M BUSY NOW... Can I Ignore You Some Other Time?

I am pleased to announce that after a 70 hour work week, I am sitting in my home office, enjoying my "only day off ” cup of coffee. It’s raining outside, not to mention dreary, but the fact that I had a great night sleep makes my mood better than normal under the circumstance.

I had a crazy busy week. I had planned to head into the city last night (nice dinner with friends, see David for breakfast this morning) but it wasn't meant to be. Instead, I was summoned to the office, for a 'quick' Saturday morning meeting.

True to form, I had clients unexpectedly drive from Toronto to meet me and it was 2pm before I could say; “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to work every Saturday!?!” 

Actually, I didn’t say that. I just screamed it out loud as I left the parking lot. Okay, so I didn’t scream it aloud. I just typed it firmly now, which to me, is equally satisfying!

It makes me worry that friends, the cottage,  not to mentioned small details like my eyebrows have gone neglected . Holy cow they look awful! (Note to self – get eyebrows waxed Monday lunch...)  As I constantly  struggle to find time to schedule everything in that I want to accomplish, I can’t help but notice how much I’ve changed. 

To quote Popeye “I yam what I yam, and that's all that I yam.” I’ve always been direct and comfortable communicating with others. That’s said, 10-12 years ago, protective wife & mother of three children, at times my words could be as sharp as a razor blade, that cut you so quickly, you were bleeding out before you knew it.

The last five or six of years, I have learned to walk away and be more matter a fact about my emotions and how to express them.  Which is code for “I may not be as big a bitch as I use to be, but I know what I want, and if I don’t see it, or it doesn’t feel right, I’m gonna let you know”.

My message nowadays is delivered in a more peaceful tone, and without drawing blood. Truthfully, at this point in my life; I'll tend to ignore you, offering you zero energy, positive or negative, and move on.

I’m not sure why I have the audacity to have the confidence I do. I just have it. I am me and completely fine with me. I’m outgoing, loyal, and I love to laugh. For all the positive energy I exude, I know that I can also be quite critical and stubborn. As gasps of disbelief reach for miles and miles, both are traits I willingly admit.

YUP, I am the first to admit that I have my mother’s stubborn streak (which I intend on getting surgically removed at the end of the year). I hope it doesn’t hurt!

Warm Fire (check), Fuzzy Socks (check), Snoring Beagle (check check)

Today was a rainy and very dreary day. For lack of a better description, it was a “painful rain” kind of day. Not the whole, 'my heart is bleeding, dog died in its sleep, Pride & Prejudice painful rain'  but the annoying type of precipitation that falls in the median between rain and snow. 

Tonight was the first Friday night in forever Staci didn’t venture home and I am missing her (seems Daisy and Dot were looking for her too). I made a fire, because you’re never alone sitting in front of a warm fire, and proceeded to decide what I would have for dinner.

After much debate, I had our Chef prepare Staci’s favorite dish and I quietly dined alone. I must admit, he's never let either of us down. I don’t care what people think, I spare no expense when it comes to fine dining. Toast, warm toast, is the key to his main course culinary offering. Chef Boyardee is my guy!

Yes, fine dining is a must, and so is my Friday night eveningwear.

No makeup, hair up, really ugly bathrobe and my must have fuzzy socks. When you’re a high maintenance gal like me, nothing feels better than arriving home and decompressing. The uglier the clothes, the more content I feel, and that’s the God’s honest truth.

Home alone, in front of a warm fire, beagle snoring (wearing a boxer/mix blanket), I am personally embracing the gift of a perfectly ordinary day.

"...All of the flowers bloom in there own time"  says her 85yr old grandmother. Please enjoy Katrina Kenison reading from her book The Gift of an Ordinary Day. Very personal and moving. Enjoy!