Professional Procrastinator………………..

I Christine Berry being of sound mind confess that I am in fact a procrastinator. There I said it; it’s official. Today is the day I decided to reveal some of my flaws, as I think it is healthy to concede and admit that as an individual I do have flaws, and I am not perfect. (Even though I am).

Procrastinate-

To put off doing something, especially out of habitual carelessness or laziness.

To postpone or delay needlessly.

Personally I find the definition offensive, as I am the furthest from “careless, or lazy”. My day planner/schedule is full. I am booked most days. I am chief bottle washer, nose wiper, taxi driver , atm, meal maker, candle stick maker….. so why call myself a procrastinator?

I am a dreamer, Like Willy Wonka… I just think all things are possible. I am a writer, but now I want to be a painter, I want to be photographer, I want to open a restaurant, I want to drive a transport, I want to open an antique shop, I want to travel, and I really want to be a free spirited love/sex goddess. Problem? It is all about me and sadly I have forgotten how to be motivated when it comes to reaching my own goals.

I wake up every single day with the excitement of a brand spanking new day. I drink my coffee and fantasize of ways I will make this day unforgettable, memorable and then nothing happens. I deflate! I have intermingled with many people that could in fact assist in making anyone of my “dreams” come true, and yet I never act on them. I am apprehensive when it comes to doing what I need to do for myself. Parking tickets, sure I will pay that ……at license renewal time, 100 times the actual fee….

Did I mention that I drove my vehicle without renewing my stickers for 2 years? That also would indicate that I seldom wash my vehicle either, and you would be correct in your thoughts that the inside is ………oh boy!  (This is fun, this cleansing of the self…)

I have been banned from every single video rental store in Sarnia. (I have an incredible collection of DVDS by the way.) I leave my bills in the mailbox until pay days… I never make follow up appointments with doctors, even though I should. I usually wait until they call me.  Garbage days, or is it garbage month? Raking the leaves…why?... they help my snow look thicker than everyone else’s. Get groceries? I am sure there is at least a table spoon of milk left in the bag…..come on!

I create stress in my life by not just picking up the god damn phone and doing exactly what I should… so I have deemed myself a “Professional Procrastinator”.

Not just a procrastinator, a "professional" procrastinator because I am just that good at it. However, for some bizarre reason or another I will do anything for any one else. Give me a list to complete and bingo I am your gal, just don’t put anything on your list that involves me doing something for me!

Turning the B I G 40……………

Last night I had the pleasure of attending a party for one of my oldest and dearest friends; to celebrate her milestone birthday of 40. I was in complete and utter disbelief that we are in fact of that age. I know 40 is not really that old, but to me it is. I am not disappointed that I am turning 40 this year or that I am getting older it is just that……life seems to be happening too fast. Going by too quick, actually.

To be honest, I am scared shit less of time. Time is the most evil concept… I don’t feel in any way that I have even grown up yet. Go ahead and ask me what I want to be when I grow up and I will tell you straight up; OLD. That is my answer! 

Material wealth has no bearing on what will make me happy. I am not about “the house” the “cars”, the “cottage”. Really I could throw it all away. The only thing I wish to be is; a pain in the ass old lady that has too much make up on, saggy breasts, god awful gray hair and a foul mouth when speaking of the youth. (Oh and have a hot young pool boy)

I reconnected with many wonderful people last night and honestly enjoyed myself immensely. Behind my laughter and my “ham like” behaviour I was choked up inside. I wish I could have freeze framed the night and sat there for an eternity. I SOOO LOVED the atmosphere. I really didn’t want the night to end. 

Many times through out the night I found myself trying to retrace our lives and figure how we got to where we are today. Married/Divorced, children, jobs everything! I mean it seems like it was just yesterday that we were getting into trouble, hanging out, every waking moment. Here were are 20 years later....WOW. 

I cried many times; but not out of sadness,  out of pure and utter love for where I am right now. I am home and doing this, reconnecting…… and falling in love all over again!

I am sure that not one individual at the party realized the gift that they were giving to me; Friendship, and a memory….. a memory that will be now etched into my mind and soul for all eternity. Here it was her big night and I feel like I received the gifts.

I am at the point in my life where I feel like I finally get it! Life is all about moments; moments of joy, happiness and sharing. It is that simple. "Live ,  Laugh,  Love "I have never been a big cliché kind of person, but I have become a weeping, sentimental, sappy wanna hold hands and sing Kumbaya kind of gal.

I am excited about turning 40 (in 105 days wink wink). But, I will be even happier to make it to 50,no wait 60, 

OK fuck it, 100!

God Bless you Fayarama, thank you for one of the best nights that I have had, and needed  in a very long time. Happy Birthday!

I Miss My Big Fat Ass...........

Recently I took the initiative of  creating memory booklets for each of my daughters. While rummaging through boxes and photo albums I came across photos of me while I was pregnant. It solicited fond memories of how I truly adored being pregnant. It also spear headed an idea of shoving a pillow up and under my shirt today; and yes I walked around the house proudly displaying my "pillow" baby. I stood and stared at myself in the mirror but for some reason I just didn’t look good “pregnant.” I was missing the glow! The fertile myrtle glow…. And, I was missing my big fat ass!

I never complained about my size or my tiredness in fact, I never felt better than when I was pregnant. I was radiant! The bigger I got….. the more I waddled; the happier I was. To me the power of a pregnant woman is incredible. The sight of a woman barring a child is; simply put, breathtaking. Career of choice with out the responsibility of raising a child; would have been pregnancy! I would have loved to be pregnant for my entire life.

The energy that I possessed while pregnant could have been bottled and sold, like a powerful Chinese concoction to be used by the most powerful athletes in the world! (Dramatic I know but very true.) I felt like a super hero, a sex goddess!

I never noticed that I was actually fat.  Robust and sensual is what I saw.  Even though I was large ok….husky (cough over 200lbs cough) I never felt ashamed or embarrassed about my body. I loved my voluptuous breasts and believe it or not; my big ass. I even snapped Polaroid’s of me naked, which is just how much I loved my pregnant body. I was very sexual while pregnant; I wanted to have sex every day! (Ok, I can hear my daughters gagging) Confidence was the reason I felt sexual, I loved my body! Leave the lights on kind of confidence. wink  wink

The beauty of pregnancy is that you can be a B B W,(Big Beautiful Woman) others just smile and think you are adorable. I am compelled to feel all warm and fuzzy inside, at the sight of a tummy full of baby! I often find my self approaching pregnant women and telling them they are beautiful. The urge to reach out and touch a baby belly is there; but, that is just creepy; so I refrain.

At each of my deliveries I was excited to meet my new child, find out the sex, and see what the child looked like but, if I am being honest; with that came a small level of disappointment. The pregnancy was over! I felt like I lost my powers. Like Linda Carter walked into the delivery room right while the baby was crowning, and demanded her gold wristlets’ and lasso back.  I was just me again. 

So back to the business of getting pregnant! Yes, I know; with pregnancy comes children…. But for almost 900 days of my life I was satisfied with how I looked. I didn’t complain I was too fat, nor did I ask if my butt looked too big in my pants, I knew it did and that made me smile!

My Baby Bump aka "Ashley"

"Pillow Baby" 2010

Dysfunctionally Functional…….

Dysfunctionally Functional…….

Of course since I moved back to Tecumseh my mission has been to reconnect with “long lost” friends and family. I was invited to lunch; where I would reminisce with 2 girls that I hung with in High School. After a trip for a hair dye and new attire I was confident and ready to rehash the last 20 years of my “absence”. One girl in particular was always quite well off and exposed to finer things in life, a bit of a snot actually! lol  As we sat and listened to her boast of her children’s abilities to speak other languages and their incredible athletic abilities I felt ashamed of the thoughts mustering in my mind about my own children. I felt uneasy about my relationship with my daughters, I happen to notice friend #2 seemed uneasy as well.

I know that at every opportunity it is expected that we are to brag, boast, indulge and exaggerate our children’s greatness. It is deep in all of us; I believe, that is mostly out of fear that our children and their “failures” are due largely because of us. Then we sit in judgment to everyone who is privy to our kids “fuck ups”.

Ingesting my over priced shitty tasting weed salad, I found myself thinking of my daughters and what they have done in their short lives. Ashley my oldest daughter in particular became the focus of my thoughts. I was carefully manicuring my thoughts and the way I would deliver her story in the greatest fashion to my snotty friends. Ashley is 17 and is beautiful; she is confident, intelligent, well traveled and …..She and I fight like cats and dogs! I was about to reveal to my friends that Ashley has toured Europe several times and was thinking of applying to a University in France, when all of a sudden the unthinkable in proper parental bragging sessions I slid out “My oldest daughter hates me!”

It came out fast and quick like a snake bite! I tried to stop speaking but my lips betrayed me! I couldn’t even stop there, I went on to say, “she acts like a bitch, she argues with me all the time, she thinks she knows everything and get this; she is embarrassed of me! Sometimes she tells me to drop her off at school where there are no other kids around. When her friends come over she quickly escapes to the Bat Cave to avoid having to see, hear or smell me!’

Reminiscing/ Therapy session? I mustered the courage to look up after I purged my unsettling confessions of the teenage drama; I made eye contact with Snot #1. Her response “I don’t have those issues with my kids”. All I could think is, why and the fudge did I say that? Snot #2 ….drum roll….. “Oh Christine” my daughter is exactly the same way! Eureka! Woot Hoot! A confession from the land of I get to look pretty all day, not work and have my husband slave his balls away at work while I shop for unnecessary expensive shit that I buy to make people I went to high school with feel inadequate when I run into them shit! (Sorry a rant, had to) Anyways, Snot #1 suddenly felt like the odd one out.

For the next 2 hours & after several cold Coors Light, not martinis or wine; she and I sat and talked about our daughters and the dynamics of our relationships. I realized that she had been feeling “abnormal” about the relationship she was in fact having with her own daughter in the same way I felt about Ashley and I . Great comfort came from being honest. Don’t get me wrong I did get a chance to brag, boast and exaggerate about my girls but it felt good to be “normal”.

My relationship with Ashley is what it is; she challenges me and my opinions, thinks I am too silly sometimes, and even thinks that I am old and that I embarrass her. In the end that is why I fricken love that kid, she challenges my opinions because she is intelligent enough to have formed her own. I do act too silly sometimes; in fact I embarrass my self everyday! That is who I have always been and will always be; A HAM! Embarrass her in front of her friends; absolutely! It is my form of taking revenge on my kids. Why scold them for bad behaviour or for giving too much lip, just wait until they have their friends over , throw on some 80’s music and do a moon walk into the room where they are hanging with friends, yell WASSSSS UP and mission complete.

In the end I connected with 2 people I hadn’t seen in years and what did I get out of it? The fuel to go home, love Ashley even more and I promised myself to continue to have the relationship I have with her, exactly the way it is, dysfunctionally functional!

I have not gotten back together with Ms. “High Horse”, but I have crawled home a few times with “Not snot #2 anymore”, but my new old friend.  

Oh and don't be fooled by the Picture of Sweet Ashley I photo shopped her fangs, horns and evil claws off! 

Uprooted!!!!!!

19 years ago I married Patrick; in 1991 he completed Teachers College and accepted a position with a School Board outside of our community. As newlyweds we moved away. Part of our “agreement” was that one day we would return “home”….. It never happened, so…. in January of this year I decided to uproot my children and march right back to my home town; Tecumseh. Needing to feel connections to family and friends and re-establish myself through the bonds that tied me while I was young, I just did it.

I never considered that my children would object in any way; really, I just assumed that “my” hometown was theirs. My need to “leave a mark” or “create or revisit” memories of my past would be the perfect venue for not only me but, for them as well. I am happiest when I return home, as I cross the county line I feel free, I can breathe and when I am here (Tecumseh) I feel like the possibilities in my own life are endless. I have completeness about myself. The realities of my health and my prognosis have forced me to live exactly how I want and need to, and right now I just need and want to be home.

The girls were very angry with me about leaving. Yes, they were excited about being closer to family, but they have school, friends, BOYFRIENDS (uggg), their own established connections and bonds to their “home” that they had to give up while making this move. While I was packing one night I over heard my youngest daughter crying in her room; I approached her and tried to comfort her. Samantha expressed how happy she was for me that I would be going home. She understood my need to be closer to what I knew. I was pleased to hear her say that to me. I then asked her why she was crying; “Because I am leaving MY home, where I grew up, MY stomping grounds Mom.” I left her room with out saying a word, I couldn’t, and I had nothing to say. She was right…………….

I felt guilty. I felt selfish. Every time I heard a door slam or heard one of the girls complain about being in our new home; an overwhelming feeling came over me and I started to second guess my decision. I wanted to tell them that I know I was a bitch for uprooting them. But, for some reason or another I couldn’t bring myself to reveal my feelings. Instead I smiled and told them things will be fine.

_______________________________________

2 months have passed and things ARE fine. The girls are adjusting and have made new friends; thank God for facebook and msn, LOL! I am happy; the happiest I have been in 19 years! The doors are no longer slamming, the eye rolling has ceased, they too are happy. The contentment is from us, we have created a fresh start and a new beginning here. The girls are excited to start school, MY High School; and now…. theirs.

The truth in the matter is; my daughters love me, I see it, I feel it! The greatest gift that I have ever received is this; I am home and my children are happy. When they leave the house to go out with their “new” friends, I hear them yell out “bye Mom, be home later!” I close my eyes, smile, and think yes, home.

End of Life Reflections.....

End of life reflection; as a person faces their own mortality, a quest within themselves to evaluate their life and impel whether it was in fact gratifying or erroneous, valuable or unimportant ensues. Still; from which measure do we determine our own lives’ value? Should we in fact compare our life lived to that of our neighbours’, our family members, by the characters in the books we have read, or by the screen plays masterfully sculpted to intrigue or hearts and minds with gloriously virtuous lives.

For instance, “Bucket Lists”, a wish list or simple list of tasks to be completed by the end of our lives, has been toyed with in many literary classes and freshman lectures throughout history. Within the past decade as our social communities have imploded and the need to connect with others has also increased our sensitivity to death, as well as the need to set out to achieve a desired completion of our own bucket lists. With cancer deaths on the rise and Hollywood creating titillating movies of death, destruction and end of the world theories  puts an insurmountable amount of pressure to achieve what sometimes is the impossible, self fulfillment.  Clichés of the modern times, “live like you were dying” or “living with no regrets” is an unrealistic interpretation how things should be. For a person to live each day like they were in fact dying would not be possible until that person were forced to engage with their inner thoughts of what plagued them or revisit times or occurrences in their lives to now know what they truly want out of life before they die. 
~Christine~