Category Archives: Haiku Friday

HF: A Dog’s Life

Haiku FridayIt’s been three weeks now
Since our impulse buy puppy
I still think I’m nuts

Such a cute wee thing
He’s hypoallergenic
And he doesn’t shed

So what have I learned so far?

1. I’d rather potty train a puppy than a toddler
2. I’d rather chase a toddler with contraband than a dog
3. Terrorising a dog is a 4-year-old’s full-time job and mission in life
4. I now know when Cameron has pooped because Toby follows him bouncing around his nappy/diaper
5. I must never say “I need to be more impulsive when I buy things” out loud EVAH again
6. Crate training is easier than I initially thought
7. Whilst sitting on the laundry room floor with the door closed coaxing a small dog into his crate, anything can happen outside of that realm. After a few minutes, I heard Cameron screaming bloody murder for me, obviously unaware of my whereabouts. I leapt from my position, sprinted across the kitchen area and located Cameron beetroot red, in distress and unmistakably butt naked. I located the offensive material on the floor on MY SIDE OF THE BED, and for the most part, it was empty. The contents had been deposited directly onto my carpet. If it wasn’t the dog doing it, it was him. I can’t win.
8. Dog farts stink. Maybe that’s why they’re called Blame Hounds?
9. Puppies will bark at ANYTHING including a shrub moving in the wind, their own shadow and the bloody vacuum
10. This dog has kicked my butt into domestic shape. My floors haven’t been this picked up in months. I hate that dog


HF: We Only Came in For T-shirts

Haiku FridayThe draw of school sales
“Let’s go to the mall” I chirped
First, The Children’s Place

Next stop, Gymboree
Nothing really stood out there
I left and walked on

The pet shop? Our zoo
The kids love to look around
Innocent visit

“Would you like to hold one?” she quipped. Bryan gave me that look. He’d spied the Cairn terrier. “Yeah, how about that little one?” She brought him out and I waved off any fear there was in being roped into a purchase. I held the little scraggy thing and melted, we put him back and wandered off for some Subway dinner and talked. We’d come for t-shirts! Did we really need a dog? We were leaving on a road trip in FOUR days, that would just add to the stress!

I walked back in alone to look at him and think about it. We already have a bird and he’s much more versatile than a dog! I don’t have to worry about a bird if we leave for hours or go on vacation… I like my carpets and couches poop-free and unbitten,

“So what do you think?” she asked, smiling at me like the Grinch. Eventually I said, “alright, let’s do it.” That was a week ago. I must be insane, it’s like having two 18-month olds! His name is Toby and he’s 4 months old. He’s so stinkin’ cute.

HF: The Post I Never Wanted to Write

The words written out
Take that next step: Hit PUBLISH
I may regret itHaiku Friday

Everybody has things they don’t care to blog about, things that should be kept under a rock and never given the chance to see the light of day again — and all for good reasons. The preface for the faceless secret may be because they are ashamed, guilt-ridden, or it’s intensely personal. And why risk outing yourself to have your feelings, emotions and heart trodden over like 2×4 shielding careful feet from a mud-laden walkway?

In a nutshell, there are things I swore I’d never blog about. My two-year long battle with infertility was one of those high on the list. I also promised I’d never allow myself to open up and allow others to see me raw, for who I truly am. That didn’t last long, and after I got bored with adding Acronames and “What kind of blogger are you?” chincy, emotionless placards to my posts, I got real. But there has always been something I have never blogged about, something I have kept tightly to myself, inside Blogdom and out.  I feel that by sharing this, I will finally leave it behind, get it out in the open and rid myself of any guilt or shame I have felt.

Life has a way of dealing you cards you never thought you’d experience or live through, things that are so intensely difficult to cope with that ‘lemons’ doesn’t even begin to describe it or do it any kind of justice.

After Ian was born in June of 2004, my life was my ideal perfect. I had a baby and he was all mine. My little miracle boy that graced my life with purity, innocence and sweet love. I read parenting books and online updates, I became the mother I didn’t know was in me, and more surprisingly, I loved it more than words could describe. It came easy.

I saved up as much sick time and vacation from work that I could, and used it all in one fail swoop to care for and cherish my little one before the dreaded day of having to return three months later. The day I handed him over to my mother-in-law to care for in my absence was one of the most frustrating and painful days of my life. It was also the day I dropped my Mum and step-dad off at the airport to return to Scotland after a 13-day stay. What an emotional roller coaster, mostly swooping down and inverted!

My days at work were week-long and I ached to be home again, in our perfect little routine. As a new Mum, I loved that I was still me, that I could have that alone time we all crave, but I also enjoyed the responsibility of caring for him, the rewards of seeing him grow and develop and how motherhood was quietly changing me into a better person than my selfish twenty-somethinger already thought I was.

But being at work didn’t feel like it used to; the passion was gone, it became routine and mundane. It was hard to concentrate on anything: Worrying if he was OK – knowing he was with a registered nurse and someone who loved him passionately – but torn and guilt-ridden, wondering if my quest to provide as much as I could for my little one was at both of our expenses. I’d occasionally have him brought into work and have him hang out with me, but it just wasn’t the same. It was strange to me that in such a short time, I could grow to love and cherish this tiny little stranger; one that I had only gotten to know through bumps and kicks. He depended on me and I loved him implicitly.

Throughout my work day, I would pause to take a break in the Mothers’ Room and wander off with my beloved Medela: now the only physical link between my son and me. I wanted to do what was best for him, and if that meant putting him ahead of starting some assignments, I was going to do it.

As the weeks passed, it became increasingly difficult to find and make the time to pull myself away from my desk. My workloads increased and my responsibilities seemed more than ever. As I endeavoured to fulfill my responsibilities in both worlds, I’d hit snags: people would need things urgently and to add to it, the Mothers’ Room was getting a major overhaul, preventing me from entering.

A few weeks later, the company went through some extensive training to switch to Microsoft Office from Corel and it required many hours away from my desk. As I thought about how the change in software would impact the company — and more especially my department and the amount of man-hours it would involve bringing everything we used into line  — the dread and fear started. But there was something else: My appetite was slowly fading and eating suddenly felt like a huge burden. I didn’t feel hungry and often threw away food I had hoped I’d feel differently about once it was sitting in front of me.

I remember one night specifically. We were doing some early evening shopping in Target, and as I rounded a corner to join Bryan (one of us invariably wanders off), I felt an overwhelming amount of dread and panic come over me, that feeling of anxiousness we all experience, and it was for no apparent reason. No amount of deep breathing or fake excited-ness was dispelling it. It puzzled me and I mentioned it in passing to Bryan, but never really thought too much of it.

I don’t recall how much time passed, but I do remember not feeling quite myself and not being able to put a finger on it.  My appetite was still changing, I felt stressed and anxious over the small stuff, and now, I was skipping the occasional shower and wanting to avoid any kind of contact with people other than at work. It didn’t make any sense, but still, I brushed it off.

It was the end of October of 2004, beginning of November that I really noticed more differences. I wasn’t sleeping as soundly even though now Ian was 4 months old, he’d been sleeping through the night at 5 weeks. My night wakings increased, and as a result, my energy levels throughout the day suffered for it.

It was a Friday, I got up out of bed and went to go shower, I stopped dead at the sink and didn’t go any further. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. It was too much. The dread and fear of something I couldn’t quite put my finger on was still there – it was there all along – but it had intensified. My legs and arms tingled, but it was a cold, eerie tingle, like every nerve ending was in shock. It was hard to concentrate on anything but the tingles and it was now increasing my anxiety. I thought about going to work, and my stomach plummeted. I didn’t want to be around anyone, I didn’t want to make lists and organise, thinking about the things I had to accomplish felt like a huge rock had now been placed on my shoulders and it was now too much to bear.

…to be continued.

HF: Husband Does The ‘Ku

I have the opportunity to work with some very brilliant people. Many of these people have also consigned themselves to a life where, “if it can’t be proven it cannot exist”. Being known as someone who lives based on what I believe to be true vs. those who live based on what is proven to be, I often get questions from my colleagues on how I can possibly subject myself to religion and faith.

One of these conversations recently ended with a good friend of mine telling me that they didn’t “believe” in anything. Perhaps it was a moment of genius, deep introspection, or perhaps, as I really believe, a moment of inspiration from above, I turned to my friend and said, “Everyone believes in something or they would simply cease to exist. Maybe some don’t recognize it, or perhaps they attempt to ignore it, but when you really think about it, we all truly believe in something — even if that something is ourselves, the ones we care about, or even the loneliness of nothing.”

I wrote this to go along with my thoughts. I hope you enjoy, and thank my wife for allowing me to share it. It is my first attempt at “the ‘Ku”.


Haiku Friday

He believes nothing
But we all believe something?
Science or Religion

Some reach out for it
Life instills it to others
Belief in something…

God or Great Spirit
Evolution and Science
Self Motivation

To Believe is Life
To Exist is to have Faith…
Something or Nothing?

HF: Haiku’d They Be Home?

Or, “What Goes Through a Four-Year-Old’s Mind: The Quintessential Statement and Question”.

Haiku Friday He whined begged all day
“Can I go play with Tristan?”
“She’s not home right now–”

He doesn’t believe
I relent and send him off
“Fine, off you go then”

One stipulation:
“If she’s not there, come right back”
He said, “I will, Mum”

Watched him walk over
Her house is across the street
Further than you’d think

I waited to see
Ha! I knew she wasn’t there!
Watched him walk down drive

Then he stopped and spun
Doubled back, walked through the gate
Yard, he was headed

Slipped on my flip flops
Beats me what he was up to
I had to see this

Walked all the way there
“Ian, what were you doing?
Come on, she’s not home…”

Eyes popped then heart jumped:
“I went through the doggy door”
My son, the crim’nal

I put the fear of death into him. By chance the phone rang when we got back. He said, “who was it Mummy?” “The POLICE!” I said curtly, trying not to smirk. Then we had a chat about social integrity (believing when people aren’t home because they don’t answer the door and you shouldn’t go check, just to make sure), criminal behaviour and house casing. He won’t be doing that again. I hope.

HF: The Day We Left Daddy to Go Grab Milk

Haiku FridayA bedtime story
Can open the door to whole new worlds
Young minds delighted

Plot, characters, storyline
All paint a picture

Then, it’s weeks later
We walk in a store — loo break
Just for Daddy though

We start to walk on
“Ian, don’t drop your sandwich!”
“Daddy will find us”

Innocent wee mind
He left a trail of Subway
Damn Hansel, Gretel!

You don’t think they hear
Or understand an old tale
I’ll take stones next time

Can you 5-7-5? Go here or here to read more.

HF: Backwards Much?

Haiku FridayMontana = beauty
Clean, serene, charming, peaceful
Outdoorsy heaven

If you’ve e’er wondered
Why I talk smack about ‘Tana
Here’s a good reason:

UK readers: Radio Shack is the same company as Tandy.

HF: Pee the Beds*

Haiku FridayThe Haiku theme? Hair
Well, Ah didnae plan ahead (no pun intended)
This is what you get:

The front door opened
T’was Ian, “I brought you these”
Just out-of-the-blue

Sigh, my heart melted
My l’il one picked me flowers
I love him to death

* There was an Urban Legend of sorts going around (still is) when I was a kid, that if you touched the yellow part of dandelions and got the yellow on you, you’d pee the bed that night. I must’ve touched a ton of them growing up.

Thanks to AlmostAmerican for this: Dandelion in French is ‘pissenlit’. (’lit’=bed)

HF: Montana-stachey-views

Montana has it —
Purple mountains majesty
They say “God’s Country”

The majestic mountains woo me, I luv the scenery outside my front door.

Ian is on the left

Live here long enough
And you’ll look like the locals
Well, if you’re a man

Here’s Bryan’s theory
Only cops and firemen
Wear this kind of ‘stache

Haiku Friday

You’ll be happy to know all these, bar the first one, are my shots.

HF: My Brave Wee Pooper

Haiku FridaySurrounded by poo
Nappies were rarely just pee
Went on forever

Thought it was his teeth
I’m still hoping it’s his teeth
Gluten allergies?

Theory: I have one
I really hope it’s not true
He has dairy squirts

Aww, poor little man
“Cheese” is a new word for him
Let’s hope it’s not that

Being a second-time Mum, I’m a little more laid back, I don’t feel like I react like I did with Ian, but of course, concern is still there. He rarely has had just a pee nappy for over 2.5 months and I knew it had to be something else and not teething — quietly hoping it wasn’t.

We took Cameron to the doctor on Wednesday, they squeezed us in. I mentioned the slightly elevated temperature, the ear tugging and the nasty nappies. He told me he didn’t have an ear infection, but his frequent “movements” could be an allergy to gluten. That would be such a nightmare, then again, I don’t like the idea of him having an intestinal disdain for dairy either. He handed me some paperwork for the blood work and we went across the street to the lab at the hospital.

I knew he was a little toughie, he rarely cries from needle jabs in the legs. Bryan sat with him and held down an arm to minimise the flailing and showed him his mobile/cell phone. The phlebotomist was great, but even more surprising, Cameron did amazing too. All he did was stare at her jabbing him for the blood draw and pull out a wee petted lip. No tears, no wailing. he was a wee champion!

Now we have to play the waiting game, and if the results are negative, no dairy products will be gracing his life for two weeks. He’ll be “maaah”ing for yogurt and cheese.

Life will be bleeting fantastic.