Namely, in no particular order:

Where are you living?

Are you and Aiden going to continue being poly?

Have you told the kids?

And so, I shall attempt to answer them in brief, if only to satisfy curiosity and actually post something new here.

1. Where are you living?

Currently I spend all of my nights and the majority of my daytime at Aiden’s.  I still spend time at Jack’s place with the kids on an almost daily basis.  I still get all of my mail at Jack’s.  Most of my personal possessions are still at his place as well.

2. Are you and Aiden going to continue being poly?

There is no short answer for this.  Are we poly right now?  Not really.  We’ve decided that now is an extremely bad time to consider ourselves “open” to additional partners.  Obviously it would be unfair to invite anyone in to the current situation, and so for the time being we are “monogamous” in the strictest sense.  Once the dust has settled, *really* settled, and we have established some sort of a solid foundation for our relationship, we will discuss the matter again.  So I guess the best answer is, I don’t know.

3. Have you told the kids?

Not really, no.  I don’t want to get into a long, drawn out explanation of why, but at this point Jack feels that it’s in their best interest not to tell them until the school year is complete and I am respecting his wishes on the matter.  Obviously the children have noticed that I am not there very often, but this is mostly explainable as I have kind of crazy work hours.  I don’t necessarily agree with his thoughts on this, but in the interest of working together, I am doing my best to go along with it.

* * *

Things continue to be as amicable as they really can be, all things considered.  There are still challenges and difficulties, but at least the fighting has decreased some, and we are becoming more successful at working together, mostly.

I’m afraid that what I can share here will be extremely limited for the foreseeable future.  Even though Jack and I both want to avoid anything going to court, I can’t risk providing any additional material that could potentially be used against me down the road.

Fear not, I am still around, and now that Aiden and I finally have internet access at his place, I might once again find the time for writing.

We are all managing to muddle though.  It seems that with Jack and I both in therapy (separately) the communication aspect of the situation is improving.  The three adults are pulling together for the sake of the children, who seem to be doing alright, now that the five of us are spending time together again.

Over the weekend Jack very generously took all of us to Banff, and put Aiden and I up in our own room.  He picked up the tab on most of the meals and activities, and we all took turns minding the children.  It was actually a really nice time, and I am extremely grateful to Jack for going out of his way to include us.  The kids had a ball, and I got to cross something off of my list (more on that later)

This week I am starting a new job, and so the schedule (graveyards) will probably take some time to adjust to.  The pay is much better though, which will make life easier all the way around.

I have plenty more to say, but it shall have to wait.  I just wanted to poke my head in and let everyone know that I’m not going anywhere for the time being.

In fact it was so bad, and I felt so hopeless and desperate, that I seriously considered checking myself into a hospital.  I looked up suicide crisis centers in my city, just in case, and wrote down the numbers for several help lines.

Sometimes life and the nastiness of this situation become so overwhelming that I fear I am not strong enough to carry on.  I know that suicide is a terrible, selfish thing to even consider, but when you feel so depressed and so certain that you can’t possibly make it through the disaster that you’ve created for yourself, sometimes it seems like the best option.

I thought a lot about what I would write to the people in my life.  To Aiden, V, my parents, Jack, and my kids (to be given to them much later in life of course, when they might understand).  What would I say if I knew I was never going to see any of them again?  What would I want them to know?

I would tell them that I was sorry for not being better, more resilient, more capable of standing up for myself.  I would tell them that I really did try my best, but that at the end of the day, it just wasn’t good enough.  I would tell them, each of them, that I loved them and that I hoped they would remember me the way I was before all of this started.

After spending more time than I care to admit writing these letters in my head, and formulating a suitable plan of self-execution, I decided to sleep on it because I never like to make decisions impulsively.

This morning I woke up, and for several glorious, groggy moments, I was just myself again.  The pain and the anguish from yesterday was gone and I was warm and safe and happy in my bed.  I completely forgot the horrors of my current state of affairs, and I was, dare I say, really happy.

Unfortunately those moments never last, and reality punches me in the face like an angry drunk.  Still, for those brief, amazing, and beautiful moments, I remembered why life is worth living, no matter how bad it seems, and that really, I can’t lose much more than I already have.  If Jack is determined to drive me right into the ground during the course of this divorce, well so be it.  I can only trust that he will at least leave me with joint custody of our kids, and whatever money and possessions I “earned” by giving up my education and a career in order to raise our offspring.

Today is a better day.

Tomorrow is yet to be determined.

Aiden has moved out, and now I divide my time between his place and what now feels like Jack’s house.  My schedule generally involves work, picking up the kids from school, doing homework with them, making them supper, eventually tucking them in, and then going to Aiden’s to make my lunch for the following day, throw in some laundry, take a shower, and then head to bed.  Weekends are a little less repetitive, but we haven’t yet worked out a rotation of who-has-the-kids.

I changed positions at work, and moved into a full-time spot (I was part-time previously).  Aiden is no longer my supervisor, which is perhaps for the best.  I think I will really like my new department, and my new supervisor is extremely trusting in my ability to get things done with minimal input from himself, which I like.  Full-time also means more money in the bank, which is important now that I actually have to support myself for the first time in almost a decade.

It’s terrifying and hard and depressing, but it’s also sort of liberating and satisfying at the same time.  When Jack and I were first together I struggled with feeling like I didn’t really contribute because I didn’t work or pay the bills.  I was resentful, off and on, of giving up any hopes of a career while raising younglings.  Yes, I worked some over the years, and for a while I had that same liberated, satisfied feeling.

It’s strange and sometimes uncomfortable to have to operate within a rather restricted budget (hopefully only for the time being, until better employment comes along for either Aiden or myself).  I became accustomed to a rather cushy lifestyle, and although I still retain ownership over a vast number of objects, I no longer enjoy the luxury of things like eating out, purchasing clothing or other extras on a whim, or driving hither and yon with no thought to how much gas I might be burning.

While there are times when it’s difficult and aggravating, I’ve also come to appreciate the finer things in life in a way I haven’t in many years.  When I *do* get to eat out, I don’t take it for granted.  I make more conscious choices when it comes to where I spend my grocery money (which is not only beneficial to my wallet, but my waistline).  I don’t waste money on frivolous items that serve no real purpose.  I’ve learned better methods of managing money, keeping a written budget, and saving for things I want rather than just buying them immediately.  It certainly ensures that I prioritize.

I read an article sometime ago regarding ones satisfaction level when something, like a vacation, had to be scrimped and saved for, rather than paid for with little to no impact to ones finances.  Apparently many people report feeling a greater sense of enjoyment and satisfaction when their trip had to be earned and planned for over a period of time, as opposed to those who could afford to travel on a whim.  I have no idea if that’s true for everyone, but I am beginning to understand what they meant.  I’ve only been living on a reduced budget for a month and some, but my perspective is changing.

Jack and I continue to struggle with relating to each other, and keeping things civil.  It seems as though we rotate between good days, bad days, and days when I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.  Our trust in each other has been eroded to the point where neither of us feel that we can put much stock in the other.  I hope that changes with time.  It’s difficult to endure what I perceive as his intense dislike for me, and I am certain it is just as difficult for him.  There are times when I look at him, and I’m not even certain that I know him at all.

Separation changes people.

We’ve become bitter and filled with resentment and anger.  There are times when we have been so truly ugly towards each other, I’m not sure I recognize either of us anymore.  I’ve been cruel and malicious in ways that I wouldn’t dream of inflicting on my worst enemy, let alone a man that I once loved more than anything.  It never begins that way, but it seems as though when conflict arrives, rather than acting as sensible adults, we are reduced to rabid, snarling animals.

I want so badly for us to be able to work together, for the benefit of our children, who are totally innocent in all of this.  I hope that we can come to some sort of understanding, and move forward in a more positive way.

For the time being, it feels dangerous to hope for anything beyond good days eventually outnumbering the bad ones.

I don’t think that I have it in me to continue tweeting, and now that I’ve been away from it for over a week, there is no real draw to return.

As for this blog, I don’t think that I will take it down, although the domain comes up for renewal in May and I am not yet entirely sure if I can afford to keep it going.  I suspect that I shall renew it for another year, and then see if I use it before letting it expire.

The content herein could still prove useful to some, and so rather than allowing it to vanish into oblivion, I shall likely export it to a free host (WordPress) and then leave it be.

I don’t know, maybe I will take it up again.  Right now it seems pointless due to the fact that I feel uncomfortable writing about my feelings for fear of inciting conflict over here in my “real life”.  Things are extremely sensitive in this house, as Jack and I struggle to discuss and compromise with each other and avoid all of the venom and spite that leaks out with unfortunate regularity.

Just to give a brief update, last night Aiden put down a damage deposit and paid his first month’s rent on his own place.  He will be moving out over the first part of March.

Today Jack is going to visit his family and tell them what is going on.  My family will likely have to wait until next weekend as I am working full time these days in order to pay all of my own bills, and I don’t get a lot of days off.

I already came out to my aunt, who is my closest family member.  Apparently she already suspected, as do my parents, that we have some sort of an open relationship.  She was surprisingly calm and extremely supportive, although I could tell that she was struggling some with the reality of the situation.  It was weird but also liberating to just be honest about everything.  I am not sure that it’s the best course of action when it comes to my mum and dad, but it’s rather nice that at least one more person knows the facts of the matter.

At any rate, I may continue to update sporadically, or as time and consideration for others allow.  I really do wish that I could share more, but for now it’s better not to.

The fact of the matter is that Jack and I are separating.

Despite outward appearances and the timing of everything, this actually has almost nothing to do with Aiden, and Jack will attest to that if you had the opportunity to ask him.

Currently I have moved into my own room, and we are gradually untangling the finances and discussing the future of the children.  There is plenty of pain and sadness to go around, but we are doing our best to keep things extremely amicable.

I understand that people will have their opinions, and rather than locking the comments, I’ve decided to brace myself and leave them open.  I hope that if you chose to remark, you will remind yourself that this blog is only a glimpse into our reality, and that behind it all we are real people, with complicated lives.

As things are rather raw, I likely will not share anything more detailed until the dust has settled.  For now, I simply take each moment as it comes, and do my best to remain true to myself.

It saddens me just to type it, and I toiled with the idea of saying anything here at all, due to the fear that someone will feel blamed or painted as the villain.  However, I promised myself that I would do what I could to detail our relationship as it went along, and although I know I haven’t done that to the fullest extent possible, this happens to be rather pivotal.

When it comes right down to it, Jack came to feel that he and Aiden could no longer live under the same roof.  The reasons for that are…complicated, and I am reluctant to comment on them, as we are all rather wounded and I don’t care to rub salt on anyone.

It feels like a massive personal failure, but I must remind myself that failure is subjective, and that perhaps all of this is the catalyst for something greater.  We made a good go of it, and now we are moving forward in a different direction.

What will become of us, you might wonder?

Thus far the plan is that Aiden will have three more months with us, during which he will be able to save up to get his own apartment.  At that time he will move out, and I will spend half of my time at his place, and half of my time here with Jack, and the children will also spend time at each residence.

Unfortunately, it has been left entirely up to me as to how I divide my time.  This task becomes daunting in the face of taking on more hours at my job, and while attempting to keep everyone involved happy.  I say it’s unfortunate only in that it feels as though the happiness of three different people rests on my shoulders alone, which is a heavy burden to bear.

The future is murky.  I don’t consider this any indication that poly is unmanageable, only that for the three of us, co-habitation is (at present) not agreeable for all those involved.

I will admit that I am struggling with feelings of resentment, and anger, and pain.  Some of them are not caused by the current circumstances, but simply aggravated by it.  Like opening up old wounds, to bleed along with the new.  In attempting to contain them, it would seem that I am simply becoming cool, withdrawn, and emotionally disinterested.  That sucks, but it’s the way I roll at the moment.

There could be more on this, maybe once I feel less raw, but for now we are simply picking up the pieces and attempting to rearrange them in a way that is more satisfactory for everyone.

When Jack and I decided to become poly, I don’t think either of us realized that we would end up where we are currently.  We entered into this “lifestyle” with the intention that what happened in our own bedroom (or in the bedrooms of our lovers, as the case may be) would be our business and that nobody need ever know.  Convenient and convincing cover stories became a part of planning outings or absences that would be spent with other significant others (we’ve used everything from “she’s helping a friend move today” to “he isn’t feeling particularly well and won’t be coming with us this weekend”).  That worked out just dandy, until poly spilled out of just the bedroom and into everyday life.  Now it is becoming increasingly inconvenient and more trying to keep it all under cover.

I used to fantasize about coming out to my mother, if only to piss her off.  Now I wish that I could just tell the truth because I hate having to keep my relationship with Aiden a secret.  I hate feeling like I’m doing something so wrong that we can’t possibly tell people for fear of the repercussions.  I dislike having to exclude him from “family activities” even though he is a part of our family.  I don’t want to have to live like this forever.

There is also the high level of paranoia I face every time I pack our kids off to spend time with my parents or Jack’s parents.  What if they say something suspicious?  What if there are uncomfortable questions?  What if everyone finds out?

I don’t care much about these things when it comes to my family, but Jack DOES care about them, and because of that, I feel as though I must be on high alert.  It’s exhausting really.  Part of me wishes we could just have it all out and stop living like we are part of the witness protection program, but I know that would make Jack extremely unhappy.

I suppose the trade off is that instead I am extremely unhappy.  Well perhaps not extremely unhappy, yet, but certainly discontent.

There is also the looming issue of future procreation.  Aiden would like to have a child, and I would like to have said child with him, and when that occurs, I am not entirely certain that we are going to be able to accommodate the lies.  One suggestion being tossed around is that we tell everyone that the three of us got terribly drunk, had a threesome, and I ended up pregnant.

That seems somewhat workable in theory, but what of the innocent child?  What are people going to say to him or her about the situation as he or she gets older?

Likewise, what are people going to say to my current children?

I suppose it’s sort of like being the child of gay parents in a time or place where it isn’t accepted or approved of.  You teach your children that it’s ok to go against the grain and encourage them to ignore the ignorance and narrowmindedness of the world around them.  I was raised in a family of racists rednecks and I turned out ok I think.  We were poor and I got picked on a lot because I never had the cool clothes and I never fit in with the popular kids.  I don’t know if that’s more or less horrible than being picked on because you live in a house with more than two parents, but who knows.

Jack and I have locked horns over this issue several times in the past months.  In fact during one late-night conversation I was relatively certain that we would either have to file for divorce or return to monogamy, the situation seemed so impassable.

I am still not certain how to resolve any of this.  I want to give up hiding because it feels so smothering and fraudulent to keep up the deception, just out of fear, and just for the sake of two other people (namely, Jack’s parents).  On the other hand, I want to be respectful of Jack and accommodating of his feelings on the matter.  I want to support his decision not to come out, but at what cost to myself and to my own sense of being truthful?

How does one manage to remain true to themselves and to their own needs, while continuing to honor the needs of the people they love?

However, the older I get, the less and less I care about what other people think.  Particularly people I know in “meat space” as I’ve never been inclined to put much stock in the opinions of internet strangers (being called a whore enough times on this blog will do that to you).  So I find myself at something of an impasse, where I am compelled to spill out every thought and angsty emotion that I’ve experienced over the past month (and there have been quite a number of them) and yet, I still wish to remain respectful of the feelings of others, and of their privacy, so I hold back.

I do get tired of feeling as though I have to cater to other people.  It makes me resentful, and the lure of sharing my experiences here becomes too much of a hassle, due to the difficulty I face in minding my mouth.  Much easier to abandon the blogging altogether, and instead scratch out my thoughts in my paper journal, or better yet, talk to other people about them.

September saw me wile away many an hour talking to V, both over the phone and in person.  Jack and I also shared several incredibly open, honest, and truly life-altering conversations that have shaped the direction that we are going as both a couple, and as a family.  A family that includes a third adult.  Jack and P’s relationship has shifted in direction, but I feel uninclined to comment beyond that, as I don’t feel it fair to share a story that isn’t mine to tell (see what I mean?).

I’m sure some of you feel that I’m getting too caught up in all of this courtesy, but there were times when things I’ve written here have extracted a high price on my daily life, and sometimes it just isn’t worth the backlash.

Still…is there a point to carrying on when so much is lost along the way?

Who knows really.  At the end of the day I just remind myself that the whole point of this blog was and is to provide myself with a place to spread out my feelings and thoughts, and take a look at them more objectively.

I think I forgot that somewhere along the way.

I don’t know how many of you read PostSecret every Sunday, but it’s been something of a weekly ritual here for years. One of the items on my Life List is to send in a postcard at some point. While I haven’t yet made time for that particular list item, I *have* left a note containing a secret in one of the PostSecret books, while I was browsing at a book store.

The above postcard is from this week, and as soon as I read it I thought “That’s exactly how I feel lately”.

I haven’t been sleeping well, I’m edgier, more easily agitated, noticeably more negative in my attitude.  I don’t feel like I have been handling things, stress in particular, as well as I usually do.  I wish I could figure out why, or where this is coming from.

Aiden has noticed the difference in me, and sadly it’s led to a good amount of friction between he and I.  He keeps asking me what he can do to make me happy, to get the old Shasta back, and I don’t have any good answers for him.  It’s sort of funny that I spent so much time worrying about how he would adapt to living in Alberta, and yet, he seems to be getting along here better than I am.

Maybe I’m just tired.  Tired of moving.  Tired of never living long in one place.  Ontario was the longest we’ve lived in one place in years, and I guess it finally felt like we were settling in somewhere, putting down roots.  Part of me may be mourning that, the loss of what felt like our first real home.

I miss Ontario.  I miss the humidity.  I miss Aiden’s family (his mum in particular) and the friends I had made there.  I miss LARPing, and camping in the gorgeous provincial parks.  I miss the heat and the freedom from my pain-in-the-ass family.  I miss the greyhound kennel.

For some reason I feel like it’s wrong for me to be sad about leaving there.  At least, that seems to be the attitude of everyone here.  Nobody seems to understand why I am sad to have moved.  I love Alberta, but I loved Ontario too.  I wish even one person understood.

Usually I take on a new house with all the enthusiasm of a kid at Christmas.  I’ve painted, stained, and made beautiful in some personal way, ever place we have lived, except for this one.  I can’t bring myself to care enough to paint, something that has already surprised a number of family members and friends.

“I’m surprised you haven’t painted anything yet!” my sister-in-law pointed out, during a recent visit to check out our new digs.

“To be honest, I haven’t the motivation to be bothered” was all I could really say.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely LOVE this house.  It’s beautiful.  The kitchen is gorgeous, and more space than I’ve had in ages.  There is more than enough space for everyone.  It’s a perfect fit.  Mind you I probably would have chosen different bedrooms for everyone, now that we’ve lived in it for a month, but too late for that, so I guess we will make do with…less than ideal living arrangements upstairs.

I know I will readjust to living here, and that eventually the exhaustion of moving and the sadness of leaving a place that I really loved will dissipate.  I just hope we don’t have to endure any more serious life changes for some time.

I miss “the old Shasta” too.

At least, not a house of my own.  Every place that Jack and I have lived since moving in together has been brand-spankin-new and generally built to our tastes.

The current house came to us “gently used” which means stains on the carpet that I have no means of identifying, nail holes in the walls that I did not create, and a kitchen with appliances that I generally would not have chosen.

One example of this is the microwave.  It’s the sort that they built in over the stove.  It also houses the hood fan.  The microwave, in my opinion, has no business being above the stove.  Not to mention that now we own a useless counter-top microwave.  Actually I think we have two or three of them these days.  Heh.

“I can’t believe our microwave is up there!” Luke chirped this afternoon, while I reheated him some leftovers for lunch.

“It’s totally mind-blowing” I replied, perhaps a little more deadpan than was entirely necessary.

All in all, things seem to be progressing more or less as they should be.  Aiden should hopefully begin working tomorrow, and the house is at least mostly livable in it’s current state of…err, disorganization.

I’ve come down with some soft of a wretched flu or cold, which has slowed down progress on the unpack considerably, but I am looking forward to utilizing the long weekend to catch up.

Surprisingly, this move has been infinitely more difficult, emotionally, than our move to Ontario.  I’m not completely certain why.  Maybe the addition of an extra adult in the mix, or the timing, or the misalignment of the planets.  I’ve probably fought, yelled, bickered, and snapped at the guys more in the past two weeks than I have over the course of my relationships with either of them (and I wasn’t the only one yelling or snapping mind you).  It’s put a strain on everyone, but I think we are coming out of it now.

Please let that be true.

We haven’t even unpacked enough heavy glass objects to provide proper ammunition for throwing at each other.

Presently I am writing from our new place in Alberta.  We are still negotiating our way through a maze of boxes, as our things only arrived on Monday.

The trip to Alberta was long and wonderful and terrible and beautiful, all at the same time.  I doubt I will ever elaborate much beyond that, but there will be photos coming along eventually.  Northern Ontario is one of the most gorgeous places I’ve ever seen, second perhaps only to the mountains, and I hope to vacation there in the future and do a lot more hiking.

In the days leading up to the trip, Aiden and I managed to get in some camping, a little hiking, and a trip to Wonderland.  I have some list items to cross off, including having sex in a public washroom, while other people were in there!

The trip was hard on everyone, and in the days after we arrived Jack and I seemed to be at each other constantly.  We’d only just mended things when Aiden and I had a couple of rough days.  All in all the entire thing has been…highly emotional, to say thee very least.

It wasn’t all bad.  We got to take in a bit of Stampede, and the rodeo.  I took Aiden to the mountains one afternoon and we did a bit of hiking.  We celebrated Jack’s 35th birthday, and he and I went out for a lovely romantic dinner together.  Yesterday V came over and spent four hours organizing and unpacking the kitchen with me.

There is more to say, but unfortunately free time is at a premium today.  We are preparing for the kiddos, who come home tomorrow, and I want their rooms to be ready for them.

Hopefully a moment to blog will present itself soon.  I just wanted to let y’all know that we made it safe and sound.

It would seem that my ability or desire to write has been packed amongst the knickknacks and flotsam collected over the course of our lives.  I’ve sat down to write at least a dozen times, only to find myself distracted or drawn away by something more pressing.  That, or I stare at the “New Post” screen, unsure of what to say or how to begin.

Tomorrow Jack and the kid will fly out to Calgary, where the younglings will be safely deposited with my mum, who is just thrilled to have them.  They will be staying with her for the greater part of July I imagine, at least until our things arrive and have been somewhat unpacked and arranged.  Jack will remain in Calgary until the 8th of July, while Aiden and I oversee most of the packing and loading.  On the 9th, P arrives, and on the 10th, the four of us and the dogs, will set out for Alberta in two vehicles.

We intend to camp, and see a few sights alone the way, and rotate vehicles so that everyone gets a turn to hang out with each other.  It’s actually somewhat precarious to arrange who will drive, as Aiden’s car is a stick, and only he and I know how to drive a standard, and P is too young to drive either of the cars, due to insurance issues.  So that Jack doesn’t have to drive the whole way, I imagine I will take over and ride with him or P, while the other rides with Aiden, and when I am with Aiden, he and I can switch off so that he gets a break as well.  We need to stop for the dogs every 4-6 hours anyway, so there will be plenty of opportunities to change up drivers and passengers.

In the mean time, Aiden and I have plans to spend some time with his family, hit up St. Jacob’s market, go to Wonderland with Dex, and do a little hiking.  Anything to stay out of the house, which seems to have become a huge source of stress for me.  I feel better when I am not constantly fussing over the move and the packing.  It will all get done, regardless.  I keep reminding myself of that, but it’s difficult to let go of my anal retentive OCD ways.  It’s much easier to escape, and leave the worst of it to the packers.  That’s what they are being paid for, after all.

4 weeks. 28 days. Either way, the very thought induces both anxiety and excitement all at once.

In that time, we have to pack as many of our things as possible, plan and execute a birthday party for the eldest child, visit Wonderland and the Toronto zoo, attend a greyhound picnic, and a farewell soirée.  Not to mention the three-day camping trip that Aiden and I are going on, and the fact that Jack will be home for only half of the time between now and the move.  We also need to squeeze in some time with Aiden’s mum and dad before we leave, and finalize a thousand little details.

Despite the fact that there seems to be far more things to be done than time to do them, I can’t help but feel a rush of anticipation when I think about being back in Calgary.

The house we picked out is absolutely gorgeous, and could only be more perfect if we’d taken leave of our senses and decided to build again (which I swore I would never do after three separate and progressively terrible experiences).  V will be close enough that I can see her on a whim.  Family will be close enough to provide child-wrangling services whenever we have need.

I will never again have to endure feeling absolutely alone, because I had never experienced that feeling until we moved to Ontario.

Like the time that Jack was out of town and Sadie had to be admitted to the hospital, after we spent three hours waiting in the emergency room.  It was 7:30pm, and Luke hadn’t eaten supper, and Nia was the only person in the world I could call to come and fetch him and take him home.  If I hadn’t had her, I am not sure what I would have done.  There was nobody else could ask for help.

We have been here for almost exactly three years, and it’s been an interesting ride.  I can’t say that I will be sorry to leave, although there is a part of me that loves this place.

On Friday night Aiden went and picked up our friend, Dex, and the three of us went to see How To Train Your Dragon.  It was a SUPER cute movie, and we all really enjoyed it.  Jack and P took the kids to see it during her visit last month, and they kept telling us how fantastic it was, even for adults.

Saturday was comprised of cleaning out the garage and packing up boxes.  Not the most fun job ever, but Aiden and Dex pitched in while Jack occupied the children and worked on things in the house.  It was nice to make some progress anyway.  After cleaning up Jack wanted to take Dex out for dinner to celebrate his recent birthday, and so the six of us went for sushi at our favorite Japanese restaurant.  The food, as always, was delicious.

After dinner Aiden took Dex home while Jack and I watched part of a movie on TV and then went to bed early.

Sunday was Luke’s first communion, after which Aiden and I took the kids to meet his family for the first time.  I was anxious over the entire affair, but the kiddos were exceptionally well-behaved, and didn’t say anything awkward.  Aiden’s mother seemed thrilled to have them, and they got to meet his siblings and grandparents as well.  Everyone complimented me on how cute and well-behaved they were.  It went better than I expected, and I’ve had to promise that I would bring them back again.

The rugrats fell asleep in the back seat on the way home while Aiden and I talked about the impending move and how poorly I have been dealing with the stress of it all.  Jack remarked recently that he has been concerned about how sad I’ve seemed lately, and the only explanation I can come up with is anxiety over everything we need to get done before July gets here.  I haven’t been sleeping enough either, which negatively impacts my ability to deal with anything.  It’s getting pretty bad.  I feel like if I am not fighting with one of the guys, I am fighting with the other.  The kids grind my nerves much easier than usual.  I’ve been feeling completely overwhelmed.  The first day I began packing, I literally stood there with an empty box and was at a loss for where to begin.  Just looking around made me tired.

I am glad that after pacing around a little, I just opened a drawer and began purging and sorting.  It seems as though it got the ball rolling, and I feel like I have more direction and a better game plan now.  Working on the garage helped, because we made a VISIBLE dent, which adds to the good feelings of accomplishment.  It’s difficult to get really excited about having done something when you can’t even tell that there was a lot of hard work poured into it.

I feel badly that the guys have been suffering through the brunt of my crazies.  I know I haven’t been easy to live with.  I am going to work on keeping my emotions in check, and taking better care of myself, because both of those things have been seriously lacking.  We only have 65 more days until the new house is ours, and I would rather have 65 days of hard work and pulling together as a family than 65 days of ripping peoples heads off at the slightest provocation.  I don’t like myself when I get like this, which only adds to the aggravation and frustration I feel.

Hopefully I can make it up to them, and remain extra-conscious of my emotional state over the next two months.  For now I am off to fill some more boxes.  Every time I tape one shut and add it to the growing stack, I feel a little bit better about everything

Cross you fingers that the faddangling with the bank (faddangling is my new favorite word) is settled out by this afternoon, and that we can put an offer on the table.

In case you are curious, it’s a smaller house than the one we currently live in, but it still has five bedrooms, so space for everyone.  The kitchen is TO DIE FOR!  Straight out of an IKEA catalog, which is my taste exactly.  We are going to have to scale back some of our worldly possessions in order to work with the reduced space (and we are talking almost half the size of what we are accustomed to) but I welcome the opportunity to really evaluate and purge all of the things we have amassed.

The new place has a sizable yard, with plenty of room for hounds, children, a fire pit, and a hot tub!

House stuff aside, it was awesome getting to see V, for the first time in like eight months.  We got to go out for beers on Friday night after Jack and I landed in Calgary, and we had a great time.  I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.

On Saturday evening we made an appearance at M’s birthday, and then went back to V’s and watched Dear John (super lame movie, but we poked fun at it and laughed a lot).  I really CANNOT wait until we can do things like that whenever we feel  like it.

When we said goodbye, it didn’t feel like my heart was breaking, because I know that it won’t be long until I see her again.  In fact time is passing so quickly these days that I’m sure it will be here before I have time to really think about it.

This week, and every week between now and the end of June, will likely be devoted to packing and other preparations.  This weekend we are taking Dex out for his birthday on Saturday, and on Sunday Aiden’s parents are having a big family get-together, which we are attending, and the kids are coming along.

Aiden’s mom has been hinting about meeting them for some time now, and although I’m a little anxious about it, I don’t want her to think that I am avoiding introductions on purpose.  Hopefully it goes well and there are no uncomfortable questions.

I am off to fill some boxes and do some cleaning.  I will post an update on the house situation once there is actually something to report, which will hopefully be soon!

I’m certain my inexplicably foul mood has something to do with it.  I woke up on the wrong side of the bed it would seem.  I am easily rubbed the wrong way, and I feel cranky and sad all at once.

I wish I could chalk it up to hormones, but my period is at least two weeks away.  Actually, I should be ovulating today, which I suppose might explain the moodiness.

The weekend was fairly good.  On Saturday I got to see The Wild Hunt with Aiden and Dex.  It was a great movie, and I can’t wait for it to come out on DVD.  Even if you’re not interested in LARP, but enjoy indie films or romantic tragedies, it’s worth seeing.  Right now it’s only being released at select AMC theaters, but braving Toronto traffic was totally worth the effort and aggravation.

After the movie we had lunch at Red Lobster before dropping Dex off at his place, and then it was on to Aiden’s parents house.  We had a really nice visit with them, and they took the news of our move surprisingly well.  Aiden’s twin brother moved to Edmonton last fall, and since my family is all out west, I don’t think our relocation came as any shock.  They did ask some questions about Jack that were a little awkward (since they think I am divorced) but fortunately Aiden and I had agreed on our “cover story” before we got there, so that we could at least be consistent with it.

We ate dinner there and then visited into the evening, before excusing ourselves to head for home.  I am going to miss Aiden’s family a lot after we move.  Probably more than I miss my own family while living out here.  Hopefully we can manage to fly out for visits a couple of times a year, and they have already mentioned coming out to visit us in the fall (more on how that will work closer to when it happens).

On the way home we stopped at Blockbuster and rented Up In The Air, so that we could watch it with Jack when we got home.  It was a really terrific story, although really quite sad in many places, and the ending is sort of bitter sweet, but I liked it enough that I would watch it again.

Sunday was something of a wasted day.  I spent a couple of hours playing Left 4 Dead II with Aiden, we had steak for supper, and mostly lounged around the house.  I would have liked to have gone out and done something, but I didn’t feel right doing so after leaving Jack with the kids all of Saturday.  Both Aiden and Jack seemed kind of…off, although for no specific reason that either of them shared with me (who really knows though, LOL, men can be terribly secretive).

Tomorrow a representative from our moving company is coming by the house to evaluate the amount of stuff we have and estimate how much time and manpower will be involved in getting our possessions from here to Calgary.  Normally that would be rather exciting, except for the fact that the house is a bit of a disaster and it feels like I’m the only one who bothers tidying it.  Hopefully I can at least straighten it up enough this afternoon and evening that I won’t be totally embarrassed to parade a stranger through our space.

I should probably get going on said cleaning.  Hopefully tomorrow I will feel more like myself again.

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First I began writing about a tantrum I had on Friday that culminated in me taking off my collar and leaving it on Aiden’s bed while he was at work.  The discussion that followed was rather uncomfortable for me, and just this morning I completed the two-page apology that will hopefully earn me a second chance at being Aiden’s slave.  I miss my collar.  I feel naked without its familiar weight around my neck.

Second I began writing about the dull and mostly shitastic weekend that I had, but it’s all water under the bridge now.

Third I began writing about P’s arrival, and the wonderful visit we’ve had thus far.  Yesterday we spent the day shopping together, and making plans for the future.  We talked about her relationship with Jack, and I assured her that I am indeed very ok with them being together, and that I hope it lasts.  Yes, I still have the odd twinge of discomfort in my guts, but it passes as quickly as it comes.  Kind of like a moment of unfounded anxiety, or having butterflies when you drive through just the right sort of dip in a road at just the right speed.  Any “weirdness” (I wouldn’t even go so far to call it jealousy or insecurity or anything like that) on my part is quickly and easily dispersed by the fact that they make each other so happy, and it makes me happy to see them together.

This is what compersion feels like.

Next week Aiden is going to be working graveyards, which means I will be sleeping alone at night.  My period is also due on Tuesday, which means I am going to have to be extra-aware of my emotional state and do what I can to keep my irrational craziness in check.  Aiden and I have LARP next weekend, so fortunately I will have that to look forward to.  Even though we don’t actually spend a lot of time together “in-game” there is still the car ride there and back for us to talk and be with each other.  We should be able to coordinate sleep schedules at the event as well so that we both get in a bit of cuddling time, and aren’t apart the entire weekend.  That’s the thing about LARP.  Even though it’s something we do together, we aren’t actually together while we are there.  In the game we don’t know each other, so it doesn’t make any reasonable sense in the story for us to be anywhere near each other.  If we were staying in this game for any period of time, yes eventually our characters would probably become pals, but for now we are essentially strangers.

It’s strange, I know.  Just smile and nod.

The paperwork for our relocation came though, and Jack signed off on it.  Now the whole thing just has to get one more signature (from someone in Jack’s office, whom is in charge of such things) and it’s all set in stone for us.  That should happen today or tomorrow.  Either way, by Friday everyone in our family will know that we are moving, and the minor details should begin to solidify (the exact moving timeline, help with the kids and with packing, the actual crossing of the country, etc.)

There seems to be so much to do, in what feels like very little time, but I know it will all work out as it should.  It always does.

For the time being I am going to enjoy my visit with P.  Aiden and I have plans to go hiking on Friday.  I’m going to pack a picnic, and later in the evening we have a family dinner to attend (on his side) to celebrate Granny’s birthday.  Saturday is my tattoo appointment, and also Easter dinner here at Chez Gibson.  I think we are going to have turkey, with all of the excessive trimmings, since I didn’t go all out for Christmas and I am kind of in the mood to celebrate what with all the great news we’ve had around here lately.

That reminds me, I’d better plan to do some baking tomorrow.  Maybe I will post some photos of food, or my new bras or panties.  MAYBE.