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I am not ready to give her up!

It may be ridiculous, but all I can be right now is sad.

Summer hasn’t even started yet, and already it’s too short.  Two months?  That’s barely enough time to picnic, forget finishing our unpacking, fixing up the house, gardening, heading to the lake, and all the other things we want to do.  We’re going to blink and it will be time for school again.

Autumn used to be my favourite time of year.  I loved the weather, the leaves, the fact that most folk stopped coming to the lake – leaving it just for us…  I loved everything about it.  Now I’m dreading it.

Autumn this year means my baby is leaving me.  And the kicker?  I’m the one who convinced her to give grade one a try, she wanted to stay home and have me teach her.  But Ms. Jackson, the grade one teacher at Mayfair?  She’s fabulous.  Is so obviously passionate about her kids, and I just know Lily-Ann could learn so much from having her be a daily part of her life.  I’m just so not ready to give her up.  Not even close to ready.

Moving from Pre-k to Kindergarten was hard enough.  I still miss our Friday afternoons.  But the idea that come Fall I will only have my girl for a few hours every day???  It’s just too much.  I honestly cried myself to sleep last night.  It’s ridiculous, I know.  I can’t help it though.  I am not ready to give her up.

We haven’t even started Summer holidays and already I’m depressed and upset over Summer coming to an end.  How the heck am I going to make it through?  There isn’t enough time in the world to prepare me for giving up my daughter full time to the school system.  Can’t she go part time?  Honestly?  Truly?  Is that an option?  Because THAT would make it all better.

A2Z – Kinship

Blogging our way from A to Z on issues of sexual and gender identity - K is for Kinship

 

The acronym community is vast and varied, full of many types of people with a wide range of beliefs.  Yet some folk seem to think that there should be this instant kinship or camaraderie between all LGBTT2QIA individuals.  The fact is, kinship is a choice, and often something you have to work at.

In this day and age there is a huge separation in class amongst gender variant and sexual minority individuals.  There are some who believe the fight is over and we have won.  This is especially prevaelent among upper class, white, gay men in their 40s… there is an entire subculture made up of the “suburbian gay”.  We fought the good fight, we have marriage equality (in Canada), so now we can go on living our lives of privilege.  It can be hard to find kinship in a population who doesn’t live the fight every day that some of us do.

For my trans brothers and sisters, the fight is especially brutal today…  and it is just beginning to get the focus it deserves from some segments of the media.  Transphobia is alive and well, I am afraid to say.  And it can be found even in the hearts of those who claim to be allies of the community.

So… kinship is not as easy as one would think.  Finding a kindred spirit is, as always, a difficult and amazing thing.  So when you do find someone with whom you share that instant connection, don’t let them go.  They are worth fighting for.

And yes, I realize this post ended up being a little rambley.  My head is fuzzy thanks to a cold…  and even a neti pot isn’t about to save the cloud that is inhabiting my brain.

So yeah…  my point…  Kinship.  It really is a choice.  You can decide to find it, even amongst a diverse population, or you can create for yourself an island – big enough for one.  But that is a very lonely place to be.

 

the april alphabet blog challenge.  blog your way through the alphabet, one letter at a time.

 

Our Queen Size Family Bed Seems Big

Tonight, out of the blue, kid kid announced that she was going to sleep in her “up high bed” (it’s what we call her loft bed that we built above our bed).  For the longest time it has been a place where she goes to play, or to craft, or to read when she wants some time to herself.  We built it when she turned three so that it would be there for her whenever she was ready.  Well…  at four and a half I guess she’s ready.  I have to admit, our queen size family bed seems awfully big and a little lonely just now, with only me in it.

The girlie is up in her bed.  The husband is upstairs on his computer.  And I’m laying, alone, in our family bed.  Yep.  A queen sized bed feels unnecessarily big and lonely just now.  If this becomes a habit, I may have to invite a dog or two back into my bed.  The last one to sleep with us was Nico, and he crossed the Rainbow Bridge back when Lily-Ann was still a wee babe.

I knew she was starting to grow up when we left the terrible three’s behind (seriously, who the hell coined the term “terrible twos”??? The two’s are EASY compared to the threes…  that’s when the REAL terrible stuff shows up) and we had a generous, kind-hearted, helpful kid (okay, a GENERALLY generous, kind-hearted, helpful kid) show up.  But I don’t know that I’m really ready for her to be quite this grown up.  I kinda miss my baby.

Hmmm…

Might have to start auditioning the dogs for the role of bed-sleeper.

 

 

Here are a few posts I’ve made previously about our sleeping arrangements and the loft bed:

Nothing on the horizon

Going through iCal today, figuring out what I need to do next, I’ll admit to getting teary when I realized there is nothing relating to Camp fYrefly on the horizon.  I’ve been so focused on camp the last six months, it’s an odd feeling seeing NOTHING on iCal in purple (purple is the colour I chose for all things Camp fYrefly related, I’m big on colour-coding it’s the only way to keep organized).

I truly feel that everything I’d done in my life, somehow lead up to my position as camp coordinator.

  • My work with youth, and winning the “youth for youth” award in high school.
  • Personal experiences and interactions throughout high school, university, and beyond.
  • All of my equal rights activism
  • My life in politics
  • The experiences I’ve had running a political party
  • The time I’ve spent in front of the camera at media events
  • My time behind the camera, appreciating the inherent beauty in all people
  • The negative and positive experiences of owning my own business(es)
  • The fact that I’m so crafty/artsy
  • My being so “sex positive” and open to talking about pretty much anything
  • All of the years I’ve spent studying and teaching operant conditioning
  • Even becoming a mom

All of it, it all led to the moments at camp.  Those vital, amazing, life changing, life AFFIRMING moments.  And now, looking at my calendar, knowing that it’s over…  well…  I’d admit to there being an immense sense of loss.  Sure, I still have lots of work before camp stuff will actually be done with.  Lots of little detail things, invoices, bills, receipts, paperwork, reports, etc.  And I still have all of my amazing, incredible, stupendous campers – none of whom I intend to lose track of, and all whom I hope will be up for the occasional get-together/reunion.  But there is still a part of me mourning, seeing nothing actually scheduled in.  Nothing purple on my calendar.  It’s a feeling I didn’t expect, but there it is, just the same.

I feel lonely.

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