The Win

Hey there, with Iron Grin and Frozen Lips,
With shadowed arms and wind that whips.
All edges of ground, all lines of cage,
shimmer there passion in a war of rage.

Rock the nation, with sweet and with sour,
pour the earths dust to make the best purple flower.
Sound it for solid, and strength from within,
Do it for happy, do it all for the win!

Phases and Stages of Life

I remember wanting to wear baggy tom-boy clothes and trucker hats.
I remember I loved my black Nikes, and eventually my second pair of skate shoes- which were also black. Those were my high school days.

I hated pink and it used to be a battle between my mom and I, every time she tried to get me into a frilly pink outfit.

Until one day.
That day that I was purchasing lacy tops myself and matching them to pink accessories.
The beginning days where I realised I looked and felt good in this stuff and wanted boys to be attracted to me. ( not that this is the only way they would be)

Heels began to excite me. I felt powerful in them.
I didn’t wear revealing tops, but instead maintained a fashion that I felt confident and sexy in.

With the change of country, came a different patch of clothing. I started out wearing summer dresses. Until I started going to the bars. Then I wore bar outfits, tight light fabric. Eight bucks a pop. They lasted maybe only four or five times out but that didn’t matter.

Pregnancy started and I wore loose fitting tops to hide the bulge that could not yet be considered a baby bump.

Baggy tank top!

Baggy tank top!

Something clicked about half way thru pregnancy and I felt I needed to show off what I had. Long slender, hip hugging material I wore. Tank tops and shorts with my belly bands. I wasn’t doing up my shorts half the time but it’s why I had ordered the bands. Came in handy.

Tighter fitting!

Tighter fitting!

I gave a lot of my clothes away after I gave birth. Not that they didn’t fit me, I just wanted an entirely new style. I went for skinny jeans and tight shorts. Tops that were baggy and three quarter length sleeves but exposed a bit of tummy. I had returned to my pre pregnancy weight within two weeks and I wanted to wear clothes that showed off my belly! For the first time in my life I was consciously proud of my body.

I want to correlate the styles of clothing and the choices we wear, with phases and stages. Just like in music. When we think back to when we listened to Simon and Garfunkel or Dave Matthews Band, there is a period in life we come to. Whether it was when we were dating that guy or gal, or when we were moving from one house to another. Music brings us back to places.As does clothing. And the first cars we own. And the second houses. And our last job. There are stages in life and it’s not usually until we are out of them, that we realise, hey- they were a fun and important time in our life. Our attachments to our past can be anything and I understand that not everyone is sentimental.. but you can at least acknowledge that the key ring you’ve had for three years has some meaning behind it.

Attachment to phases can be dangerous.
For when everything we see or does reminds us of some part of our past, the present gets a bit overshadowed and neglected. One day the clothes you are wearing now will represent this part of life you are going through. Whether you are 21 or 45. So let’s respect the things in our life. Everything.Because they all make it what it is and one day you will be looking back on these days and realising that the v-neck you wore did not match your leopard print pants no matter WHAT you thought, or the incredibly tight pants looked ridiculous and made your butt look twice the size.

Phases are just that. Phases. We need to acknowledge them as part of the past, as part of something that got us where we are today. So then we can fully live in this present and respect it, knowing it too, will be a phase of our life.

( I did just realise that all three photos in this post, are with me wearing stripes. Guess some phases never end ;P )

Why I Haven’t Been Out There

In 2010 my brain was collecting like crazy. I was doing some university courses, one of them on Thai Language. I was so involved. I remember learning the Thai alphabet in the food court of an old mall with flashcards ( more like flashpaper ) I had printed off, with an ice coffee beside me and crumbs from a jelly donut. It’s amazing the results when your brain is actually turned on. I had a Thai friend who helped me with the pronunciation. I was also running daily and eating only a noodle a day. I felt incredibly healthy ( no kidding eh, a noodle?! ) and young and probably the slimmest I had been since I had been out of highschool.

Fast forward three years and here you have a woman who has forgotten some, if not all of the Thai alphabet and says the wrong word for boy in Thai.

Last night while walking around the village, a Thai man asked if my baby was my brother or sister. ( in english ) I thought he just meant boy or girl so I responded in Thai ‘pee chai’.
‘La?’ he exclaimed, looking at my son. Which is ‘really?’ in Thai.
It was only after he walked away that I realised I had just told him Zeek was my older brother. I meant to say ‘ poo chai’, not ‘pee’. And I also thought, maybe he didn’t realise it was actually MY baby.

Anyways, that got me thinking.
That maybe I refrain from going out and interacting and being social these days for more than just the reason of having a child.
Because I am embarrassed at the lack of Thai I know.
Because my brain has been turned off and I have placed myself outside of all things Thai, that all the Thai I ever did know is mixed up and muddled in my head and so that when someone asks me if my son is my brother or sister and i think they’re asking boy or girl, i respond with ‘ my older brother’..

I know a lot of Thai. I used to know more. And I haven’t been having conversations or really putting my brain into high gear to remember and to listen and to catch certain phrases. I’m letting it all slide by. And this all probably stems to the fact that I know we will be moving in less than two years. My brain is half way in Canada already and it’s like I’ve given up learning anything more about this culture. Which is sad in a way. Sure we won’t ever be living here again, but- it doesn’t hurt to learn for the present.
I doubt I’ll make the come back. I am too focused on the human being I am raising in this world. Which is okay with me. There is just more understanding to the reasoning why I haven’t been out there utilizing my Thai.


Valuable Time

Clearing a room out in real life is difficult enough.
In your head?

How do you just push ideas and thoughts and LIFE aside to make that empty room where brain to fingers to keyboard really works?
Well I’m trying, surrounded by colourful plush things and water trucks going by and the AC blasting onto my neck.

At this point in my life I feel like if I was given a solid hour to be alone and have no chores to do, I would end up creating this fantastic novel, this blog piece that everyone would enjoy and I would make hundreds of thousands from it.

I don’t think the hundreds of thousands is too far fetched. Just the solid hour.


I do love my life, don’t get me wrong. Get me RIGHT!
But it changes a whole bunch when your title of a friend or a sister or daughter or wife, becomes friend who is a Mom, my daugher who has a child, my sister that made me an Aunt.
It reaches all corners.

I guess I just like to acknowledge the fact that the value of time increases by a whole elephant load of elephants when you become a Mother.
And it can very easily overcome us Moms. When every minute and everything we do is related back to time. If I put him to sleep now, he’ll wake up this time and then we can tell our friends we’ll meet them then. Even if it is nothing related to baby. Indirectly, it does.

Adapting is something we all do in life. Gradually, slowly, we do. Because things are ever changing and we grow and experience new things. It is a grand feeling in a way because we have control over who we are. We take what we want from experiences and we deal with them according to the decisions we make. To either turn on the positive city lights or the flashing negative signs, we are given the opportunity to make it how we want it!



Babies and Baby Animals

Unlike other animals, babies don’t see danger.
They will repeatedly fall off the bed. They will try and suck on pennies and reach for knives. They will put bugs in their mouth and fall down the stairs.

Why are they built like that?

To me, it is so that the parent or care-taker, has to be around. It is our human nature to want to prevent bad things happening to our children and if all our babies knew what not to do when it came to danger, that’d make for a smaller amount of time around them. The nurturing process would be less involved and perhaps that bond wouldn’t be as strong.

Animals are different.
Baby Cubs know to get away from a tiger. They know they can’t fly so they don’t jump off cliffs. Certain types of fish know they can’t swim at a depth beyond 100 metres-so they don’t swim deeper than that.

Everyday I watch my baby learn.
But no matter how many times he rolls off the bed, he will continue to do it.
Even though he does not understand it or realise it, that is why I am there.
I am not only wanted, I am needed.
And that is a pretty darn special feeling!

You Know You’re Tired When…

I can tell I am out of it when I go to use my perfume bottle as deoderant. TWICE in one week. I can tell I am out of it when I eat two raw noodles before realizing that it is not the way they are supposed to be eaten. I realize that my brain is far from working when I pour my coffee grinds into the part where the water is supposed to go. I almost use sunscreen for my toothpaste and instead of putting my underware on frontwards or even ON, I use it as a cloth to wipe down the counters. ( What also, is that saying about my choice in underware pattern?!! )
And last but not least, I know I’m tired when I find myself staring at my feet and thinking that it is all I want to do!
True facts of the last week!

Oh dear.