Canadian Soldiers… 3 Days to be Kicked Out!

Ok so here’s the deal. I love Canada. I’ve always been proud of being a Canadian. In fact, there’s nowhere else in the world I’ve ever dreamed of living (except for those few moments in the winter when we hit -50s Celsius… then my mind begins to wander…). But this bit of news I’ve heard recently has suddenly “burned my biscuits” (my husband hates that phrase!).

Last night, on the news, there was – as there always is – an update on the Syrian refugee crisis. As many know, Canada has said they would take 10,000 refugees. Of course this has started all kinds of uproar, but aside from that whole raucous, I was EXTREMELY disappointed with what I heard. Are you ready for it?

They are removing soldiers from the barracks in order to give housing to the refugees.

No joke. Now, this is not all military bases, but still! And do you know how long they have to move? 3 days. Honestly, 3 days. What kind of appreciation to our troops is that?

First, they are told they have to leave their home in order to make homes for refugees. Last time I checked, military paycheques weren’t the greatest. I’m pretty sure barrack living is much cheaper than normal housing situations. So we’re going to kick out our soldiers who don’t have tons of money, who probably don’t have a down payment for a house or a damage deposit saved up for a rental, possibly causing some of them to become rather “homeless” in order to save from refugee homelessness? Does this even make sense?

Secondly, they are being given 3 days. 3 days. The number keeps flashing in my head. In most rental evictions, you get a week. In extreme cases, maybe less than that. But the thing is, the soldiers didn’t do anything wrong. They’re being evicted on zero grounds of things they’ve done themselves. And we’re given them the glorious number of 3 days to restructure their lives. Yup, 3 days to find a place (this can take forever), 3 days to move, 3 days to uproot their current lives and create new ones. 3 days is a joke. This is ridiculous.

What do you think, am I being too hard on our government? Am I not seeing the whole picture? Is the thought that maybe we should treat our soldiers well since they are prepared to give their lives for our country ridiculous? I’m beyond bewildered.

Maybe this is wrong, but can we not put up temporary housing for them until something else is figured out? I know if I was running away from a huge terror, I would be happy to end up in a warm church room, or a town hall, or any building with a roof over my head and warmth. I guarantee food donations and other things will be coming in. I know people are willing to help out. So why aren’t we using vacant places instead of kicking our own residents out?

If you have any clear thoughts, definitely leave them below. This whole situation just blows my mind. Leave it below and let’s hear some other thoughts on this whole situation!

Farmers Do Not Love Their Cows

I apologize that the title of this blog sounds hateful. I can assure you I don’t have farmers. For 2 years of my life, my family had our own farm. My best friend in university’s family had a beef farm, and for two years, my hairdresser and her husband had a beef farm. I don’t hate farmers in the least. But here is an argument I was part of this week.

Now, normally, I’m not such a vocal person. I’m not the kind of person who just looks for a fight or who believes everyone should think the same way I do. In fact, because of my Christian beliefs, I believe that God has given everyone the gift of free choice, and so I am not someone to take that away. Of course this gets bordered when it inflicts pain on others, but that’s a whole other topic. The fact is, in Exodus, God gave permission to eat certain animals, one of them being cows. So if you want to eat beef, I may not agree with it, but you have total right to do that. So that’s not where this argument is coming from.

What I saw this week was a picture of an almost frozen calf in a farmer’s truck. This is a typical appearance. In my two years of farming, we were up in the middle of the night to help our animals sometimes. I get the work it takes. I see the dedication farmers have. But the caption of the farmer is how much they cared/loved their cows. That’s where I had a problem.

Now, this world has problems enough with understanding what love really is. All too often we see people throwing around the “love” word without really meaning it. People date people and still keep their own needs above their partners. People get married, and stop caring for each other. This is an awful view of love. There are so many terrible views of love. One of the pure views of love that are left in the world is when I look at mothers who truly love their children. They will do anything to protect them and give them the best lives possible. That’s what love should be. Fighting for the one you love, willing to die for that person, that’s love.

Now, I know we are talking about animals and not humans, and many people do not consider them on the same level, so that’s fine. Let’s go with that. But love, in no sense of any manner, means killing the thing you love. Think of a child’s favourite toy, or an adult’s favourite car. You love that toy/car. If that object were to “die”, you would be incredibly upset and angry. These objects aren’t even alive. Yet the cows are. (This also goes for pigs/sheep/chickens, etc…)

So these ALIVE things that farmers are claiming they “love” are raised to be killed. Does that still seem like love to you? Is it caring to kill them?

I had someone tell me that ranchers and farmers are different. That’s cool. I can see they are different. That’s not a big deal to me. The ranchers say they are animal rights activists and they do what they can to give the cows the best lives they can. Well, although it does seem like a very nice gesture to give an animal the best life possible for their short lives, do you think they would call it a “good life” to live for a couple years then be killed? Would you call it a “good life” if you were raised to the age of 2 or 18 (2 year old cow = 18 years as a human) to know you would be placed with a bullet between your eyes and then cut apart for others to eat? Would you call that loving? Is that caring? Knowing you were only born to be food? I don’t think so.

I think there is such a disconnect in this world! It’s crazy! If you are willing to put all that care into an animal, taking a cow into your home to warm them up, saying that you “love” them, well, I will agree you are acting that way. But why do you stop loving them? Why does it change from this seemingly “love” feeling to a feeling of “get on my plate! Die!” Is that how you feel about your dog? Is that how you feel about your cat? Is that how you feel about your children? They’re only worth loving for so long before you get rid of them and don’t care what happens to them?

Some of you may be wondering why I have such a big deal over a simple word. But here’s the reason, people are not owning what actually happens. Sure, the cow may have a “good life” before its death date. But here’s what happens to this “beloved animal” on it’s death date. It gets taken on a usually overloaded cow trailer where they are not given water or anything of substance on the way to slaughter. Once they get to the slaughterhouse, they become terribly frightened. They hear other cows expressing their fright and just as a dog has amazing senses in the personality of humans, cows are no different. They can sense fear and know something is wrong. The “beloved” creatures are as scared as a child in the dark except darkness is easy to fix, death is not. So not only are they unloaded to this terrible place, many people abuse these animals while they are still alive, fighting with creatures who are only scared and reacting as such. Do you go in and punish your child for having a nightmare? These cows are LIVING their nightmare and being punished for it.

When the time comes to be killed, a bullet is put between their eyes. Now, according to government regulations, it’s ok if they’re not killed by that bullet as long as they are stunned and unable to move. Now, I don’t know about you, but it’s almost like a totally functioning person in a coma. These people, when out of the coma, are able to tell you things that people said because they were totally there, just not in control of their body. That’s how these cows are except they can’t tell you what people are saying, but they can tell you about the hooks that were painfully shoved through their legs. Would you like to be alive with hooks piercing your body? I’m going to guess not. Of course, the hook is not enough to kill the cow. So the next step is being sliced open down the middle of their bodies and through their neck. Mmm. What an awesome feeling while you’re still alive. So humane. Such a “loved” and “cared about” animal, right?

So here’s the thing. If you can accept what you do, and you have no problem saying cows are just money to you, that you don’t actually love them and don’t care about the violence you put them through, then by all means that’s at least not hypocritical. Again, I don’t agree with it and think it speaks volumes about the kind of person you are, but I at least appreciate the honesty. But if you advertise to the world that you are such a caring and loving person to these animals, you are so hypocritical and maybe even lying to yourself! I’m asking farmers and ranchers to take responsibility for their actions. You’re not really an animal rights activist when you’re still sending them to a bitter death. So that’s the part I have a problem with. Accept the realities of your job. Don’t just pretend that you’re doing something good for them because for all the good you did before, I guarantee the cows would choose a little less cozy life in exchange for keeping their lives. Nobody wants to die, not even animals. They are alive, they have thoughts, they are just unable to communicate to us the way we need to understand. So start thinking and accept what the truth is. That’s it. If you choose to continue to eat meat, like I said, that’s your choice. But know where that meat is coming from and what that animal is going through to get to your stomach when the world over knows a vegetarian/vegan diet is a way to thrive. You don’t need meat, you don’t need dairy products. But make your choice while being educated and not hiding the truth.

Know the truth, own your choice.

Not Sure How We’re Supposed To Live?

Now I know many of you are from either the States where you have to pay for health services, or from other countries of which I’m highly uneducated of how your health systems work, but here in Canada, we are known for our free health care. This has both been a good thing and a bad thing because waiting times are usually outrageous.

Recently, the province I live in, Alberta, has had a budget renewal. Due to the price of the Canadian dollar summiting so low, and the price of oil dropping off, our economy has done little but crash and leaving us in a current 5 billion dollar deficit.

So what does the government decide to do amongst other things? Start charging us for health care. Now keep in mind, I understand that others will look at us and say things like, “We’ve always had to pay for it. So stop whining about it.” But what I’m asking you to remember is that Alberta is one of the most expensive places to live. Just because gas prices and things have gone down, living costs have far increased past wages in the past many years. You can come here to make money, but you also come to lose money.

Aside from that, you have to remember that health care was one less thing we had to budget. Yes, we still have to pay for the dentist, chiropractors, and medical needs of that line. But this is the direct access to a doctor that will now cost us.

I wouldn’t even be complaining if we had to pay something like 10-20 dollars a month for health care as I feel that is a good introduction to the paying of health care. But they are going to ask us to pay $1000 per year for health care. Combine that with the fact I’m almost getting 60% of my net pay already by the time they take out taxes, and the fact that I just barely am over the limit of which you have to start paying for health care (people under a net income of 50,000 do not have to pay), I’m not sure where it is going to come from right now. Maybe if I didn’t have so many taxes taken out, I would find this easier to accept. But when my account is pretty much dry by the middle of the month simply paying bills, and I’m living off 100% of my husband for the second half already, and we’re barely making it month to month as it is, how am I supposed to come up with a possible $2000 for the both of us?

On top of all of this, there are many refugees and immigrants from various countries that are somehow able to live in Canada getting $24,000+ per year from the government just to sit home and take English classes. Yet my husband and I are in debt because he was unable to do anything for 2 years and has been working for less than a year. Aside from all of the many dollars we have had to pay to Immigration, I can’t seem to catch a break.

The worst part of all of this is that my husband has not been “home” to see his family in almost 2 years. The government did not allow him to leave the country, and only in a few months will be his first time to leave. So we had plans of trying to save up some money to drive down and see his family, finally.

This whole fee thing would probably be even less of a deal if it weren’t for the fact this budget is supposed to go into effect THIS JULY. So somehow, I may be $1000 or $2000 out (our entire trip if not more) just for health care and my husband not able to see his family, his grandpa that is sick and his brother who he wasn’t even able to travel to see during his surgeries last summer?

My head can’t even wrap around this right now. I don’t even know what to do. It seems like the world keeps demanding money, specifically the government, but our wages don’t rise, and instead we get less and less to live from. I don’t know how I’m going to do this…

Immigration – 1 Week’s Notice

Most of you have followed the extensive and complicated journey my husband and I have had with Immigration. From the amount of research we’ve had to do, to the amount of paperwork, to the discrepancy amongst government opinions and directions, to losing our papers. However, we now have announcements for the next chapter.

On Wednesday evening, my husband checked his e-mail and he had not one, but two letters from the government. The first one said he had been approved for his permanent residency application and would be contacted for further instructions. The second e-mail gave us a one week’s notice for an interview (happening this Thursday) that we both need to be there for. It was easy enough for us both to get the day off, although not ideal. But as I kept reading, I realized that should either of us be late or not show up, our paperwork may be tossed. He also needed to bring a copy of the letter with him, needed to bring new PR pictures (which we had to get done) AND pay the “Right of Permanent Residence Fee” of $490 BEFORE the interview so that we could bring a copy of the receipt. Oh my goodness… one week to get $490 that I didn’t really have. It’s not like that added any stress or anything…

So that’s where we sit. I’m incredibly nervous although everything is printed and ready to go. We both have our days booked off and really have nothing else to prepare that I know of. But I’m incredibly nervous. He’s supposed to know whether he’ll be a resident after this interview or not. Of course I’m praying HEAVILY that he is. This has been such a long journey. I would completely break down if it didn’t go well. But have you heard the same things I have heard about this interview?

I’ve talked to others, and they have told me that they were separated and asked questions with such minute details such as: What colour is your partner’s toothbrush? Where do they squeeze the toothpaste (i.e. middle, roll from the end, etc…)? I have no idea what they’re going to ask us, but I hope we can prove to them that we are not simply a marriage of convenience, but that we are married because we love each other. Ah! Please pray for us!

Do you have any details about a permanent residence interview you had experienced? I would love to hear from someone about what happened in your situation!

Bottle Depot – $131

Oh the Bottle Depot… the very name brings back childhood memories of a stinky place where workers – faster than is explainable – twist caps off bottles and sort them into several different piles and bins. It was a place where for some reason, returning bottles made money. As a kid, that was an exciting thing to see!

Many years passed, and I NEVER went to the Bottle Depot. I never drank enough on my own to begin to collect bottles. However, when my husband and I were married, and discovered that our tap water tastes terribly bad, we began buying bottled water and started saving the bottles. Of course, we kept the bottles in garbage bags in the basement so it was out of our way, but we eventually had saved up a huge amount of bags. Naturally, we wanted to take them in to see how much money we profited!

After 29 small-medium sized white garbage bags will with bottles, we profited $131. Not bad! Of course the timing is important because the government has only given us one week’s notice to come up with $500 to pay the next immigration fee. So this $131 is a help!

What are your thoughts about the Bottle Depot?

Week 2 Day 3 : A Hard Day

For the first time EVER, I woke up at 4:30 and went straight to the gym! I completed my circuit training and was able to make it home in time to help my husband get ready for work as well as do some laundry and take care of our animals while still getting ready and making it to work on time! What a morning! I also took delight in cooking and eating my breakfast at home, something that rarely if ever happens.

Of course, once I made it to school, I realized the pit in my stomach. My Jewel was leaving today. I was filled with sadness, anger, and several different emotions. I really am trying to stay positive about my neighbours, but I really have little good to say.

The day turned into an incredibly long day. I was at work from 7:30-6:20 in meetings and not accomplishing half of what I needed to. I estimate there are at least 5-7 hours worth of grading waiting to be done and huge paperwork deadlines for the end of the month that I have not had time to do.

Of course with the longer hours, I did not have enough meals with me to fill that time span and I was extremely hungry and tired.

I then became quickly stressed as I knew we were meeting my dad, my sister, and her boyfriend for her birthday supper and also so that my dad could take my baby. The only bad news is I couldn’t get ahold of my husband who was supposed to be coming with me. It was a couple hours before I could reach him.

I ended up packing up the dogs myself, and drove in my car to the restaurant, noticing along the way that I had forgotten some items Jewel needed for the flight and having to make a pitstop.

I was the last one to arrive, and we put the dogs in my husband’s truck with the windows down as people have a habit on calling Animal Patrol on all people, especially with dogs in the vehicle regardless of how they are prepped. In my husband’s tall truck, it is less likely people will climb it to see in the windows.

Supper was good, the food was excellent. I ordered a salad as you can always pick and choose the toppings: get a good chicken breast for protein, a couple nuts for fat, lots of greens and other veggies, and I also had quinoa on my salad for that extra carby protein. The salad was excellent!

We had a good time, but when it came time to say good-bye, I had a hard time. My baby was leaving and this was it. We took pictures, I went through thorough instructions, and did all that I could to say good-bye.

On the ride home, I went alone. My husband had the dogs with him in his truck, and I wept driving in my car. I began reflecting on life and how it seemed such a mess. I thought about how my husband and I are living in a city that we both don’t like, beside unfortunate neighbours, and things seem to be getting ripped away from us without us having any control. We’re both not happy where we are, as busy as we are, with the rules we have to face. The only thing in my life that seems to be somewhat controlled is my diet and the gym. That honestly is all I have control of. The government restricts my husband from school over a paper they refuse to admit they lost. The government restricts me from my babies that I never planned on having but have adapted and made my own sacrifices in order to keep and take good care of them. Those higher than me in my career control the amount of meetings and extracurricular activities I must do which take up more time than I would like to allow with no financial compensation. My husband’s job is controlled by the journeymen he works with and has to work the hours they set out each day. We are stuck in a city where jobs are more abundant to ensure that our bills can be paid since my husband cannot advance in his career without the government papers and thus needs a company that can take him on for now. Everything about my life seems to be controlled by someone or something else. I’m stuck. I’m a mess. The one thing I have is the gym.

And so even though it was late when we got home, we unloaded the dogs, sat for a minute, and went to the gym. The man at the desk recognized me from earlier that morning when he was ending his night shift and mentioned how shocked he was to see me twice in less than 24 hours. I smiled and continued to walk. The gym is the one thing people cannot take away from me. And so my cardio became complete; 12 minutes of HIIT on the stairclimber. And the day was done.

The Madness Won’t End!

You will never believe this. I can hardly believe it!

So this week started with the extremely awful government call I had to make.

Then I had a student incident that has not been easy to deal with.

Then I had another incident with another student that also not been easy to deal with.

Then as I’m home getting ready to leave, I get a knock on the door. I’m immediately questioning who it could be because nobody ever comes to visit us and it is hours too early for any delivery vehicles.

Two words: Animal Patrol

Apparently, my neighbours did not stop at calling the landlord months ago. They called Animal Patrol a week ago. Seriously? I was shaking so bad.

I have never been happier to know that one of our dogs is going to live with my grandmother in New Brunswick on Tuesday. I don’t understand these people.

I live in a townhouse. I have my own outside doors. I only work 4 days a week. Prior to this, I lived in an apartment, surrounded by more people, with the same dogs, for almost 2 years without EVER having animal patrol called for any reason. Does this not tell you something?

I’ve only lived at this place for not even half a year yet. We came just before the summer. And yet my dogs have already had Animal Patrol called without ever coming to talk to me personally? Even though I’ve had many more people live around me for 2 years and never had problems? It’s not like I changed dogs…

And then come to find out, the officer asks me about the neighbour’s dog. The one that I’ve noticed has been gone for almost a month. I was immediately filled with a little bit of rage. Why do I have to be beside some of the worst neighbours?

Honestly, it takes A LOT to make me not like someone. I may get a little frustrated with people, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like them. But I really don’t like my neighbours. I don’t like that it’s ok for them to have a ton of people out of their deck having a little party on a week night when others have to get up and go to work, but it’s not ok for me and my other neighbour to have dogs. This is a dog area. Most of the people who live in this section of townhouses have dogs. If you don’t like them, then you are in the wrong place.

So frustrated!

**As a side note, I know that I can’t stay this angry forever as it will only do damage to myself. Thus I am repeating and focussing on the prayer and verse below to help get rid of it. This is not easy…

Dear Righteous Father, I will not forget Your benefits as daily You help bear my burdens. Though I’m facing seemingly endless difficulties, I will not throw in the towel. I will set my eyes upon the hills and look forward with confidence of the future You have prepared for me; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord. Amen.

Psalm 103:2

God Only Knows…

So the weirdest thing happened to me this week, and it can only be explained that God was providing me with what i needed before I knew it, and it happened in the strangest way. Here’s what it was:

As far as the dynamics of the school, grades 5-8 are all downstairs. Because we are all together, we share in our options classes. Junior High had an outdoor adventure this week, and so it was simply grade 5 and my grade 6s in our area.

Options happen every Tuesday and Thursday and prior to this year, we have ALWAYS cancelled Options during the week that Junior High was gone. And that’s why this year was so strange.

The grade 5 teacher came to me on Monday saying that he knew I needed a break and was considering teaching a his Choir class so that he would have both grades 5 and 6 and I would have a spare. Normally this would not be a spare for me anyways because I teach the Junior High French at the same time. And as much as he seemed to stress that I needed a break, I could not figure out why!

Tuesday came, and he told me he had decided to teach Choir that day and went out of his way to tell me that he would keep them as long as he could so I could have a break and was just making sure that everything was ok and convenient for me. I was in total disarray trying to figure out what I did to require such a break!

I knew Choir class was almost an hour, and decided to use my time wisely: hence the government call that I have blogged about earlier.

The best part is, not only was Choir scheduled for just shy of an hour, but he kept the kids overtime!

Now picture this: just gone through the worst, most frustrating call I’ve ever had with the government over such a huge issue in my life, got treated incredibly rudely on the phone, was left so emotional afterwards, and yet had the spare time to regroup myself. eat some food and manage to level out before my students returned. Now tell me that isn’t God’s timing!

You see, I didn’t plan on that call. I definitely didn’t plan on that spare! Yet for some reason, somehow, God impressed upon my co-worker that I needed that particular time that particular day with the right amount of time to deal with something I needed to deal with. I had no idea. I had no idea why things were going the way they were, and yet it all made sense in the end. God had this planned and provided me with what I needed to do it.

I cannot sing God’s praises enough. The very fact that He sees everything – the beginning and the end – and knows everything in between just humbles me. My God has it all under control before I even realize it. My God provides everything I will need when the time comes. My God is more powerful than I could ever imagine. My God is truly the God of Love.

Week 1 Day 2

Currently I am writing to you as I finish my last meal for the day: greek yogurt with mango and blueberries, and egg whites. And believe it or not, it’s only 11:44! Haven’t hit that midnight mark yet! (Really, that is sad and something I need to work on. I’m not so good at getting to bed when I should…)

So today was a bit of a rough-to-good day. Let me explain what I mean.

I woke up so tired (lack of sleep problem again…). But I got up, managed to do a load of dishes, put away some clean laundry, shower, walk the dogs, feed my animals, throw food in a bag, get out the door and manage to only make it a few minutes late to work. This actually was awful for me because I’m NEVER late. I’m one of those people that hates to be late for anything. Trust me, this won’t be repeated anytime soon.

The day seemed to go alright, of course with lots to do both for work and home. But what I really want to focus on is the affect food can have on you and what a mix of food and stress did to me today.

Most of you have followed my problems with the government and my husband’s permanent residency. Well, today I wrote in many details in an earlier blog post about my experience today. But to summarize, I had a bad phone call with the government. Not in any trouble or anything, but it ended in huge stress and high anxiety. Now, mix that with the fact that I had been so busy I wasn’t watching how long it had been since I had eaten the previous meal. So my blood sugars were low, my anxiety and stress was high, and I almost had a meltdown.

I’m not normally a person to have a meltdown incase you’re wondering. I’m the optimistic problem-solver. But not at that moment. And the thing is, I know it also had to do with the food because immediately after the phone call, I took a few minutes to try and calm myself down, and then decided to forget all work for a few minutes and get my food ready: sweet potato, cottage cheese and cubed turkey. I may not have felt better about the stress for quite some time, but immediately I could tell a difference with the food. It made me feel more capable, more stable, definitely better.

So I continued my day, absolutely ready for a nap after work. There was simply too much stress associated with that phone call and the surrounding situation.

I did some errands after work, came home, and took a nap. I wasn’t ready to get up when my husband woke me up, but after rising and eating, I was feeling alright. Then I got to the gym and started feeling great. Amazing how that happens.

Now as far as the workout, it was great (minus the burpees). I hate burpees. I don’t know what it is about them, but I feel so uncoordinated like my legs are too long and get in my way. And I may have learned that balance while doing these is super important as I put too much pressure on my already injured wrist which caused me to crash to my knees. Oops. But I can assure you that by the last round of burpees, my form had improved incredibly. I’m trying to heal that wrist, not make it worse!

How I felt when I looked at the workout routine for tonight…

The workout again was a circuit style which I have found to be difficult in the gym when you require certain machines. But it is not impossible.

So I’m waiting currently waiting for that frozen mango and some of those frozen blueberries to thaw a little more before I can finish eating my yogurt. Then I will be getting ready for bed and sleeping the remainder of the night away.

Hope you all have an awesome and healthy night!

I Have A Confession: It’s Not Always That Easy…

So it’s true. I have a confession to make.

I feel as if I come across as very positive, and if I do, that’s my goal. I honestly try super hard to look for the positive in everything. That’s just who I am. I know there is usually a positive side to everything or at least a way through every tough situation. I know that. I’m naturally optimistic. I also am aware of that. And even though I’m really good at showing my optimistic side, I have to admit, it’s not always that easy.

I’m looking at today as an example. It has been weeks since I found out that the government lost my husband’s FBI report. I was mad for a couple days, got over it, and realized we do have enough time to apply for another one because he was at least issued his work permit. But I had never had the chance to call them myself until today.

For starters, there’s always a wait time on the phone. And I was using a spare at work to call so my anxiety was raising a little that they wouldn’t answer by the time my students came back.

Then, I explained my situation quickly to which the guy questioned me as if I was crazy. This didn’t help.

And on top of it all, not only did I wait, got questioned as if I had no idea what I was talking about, I got told he couldn’t do anything without speaking to my husband and he has to be here with me if I am to talk. All of that for nothing.

And after I hung up the phone (the guy offered no apology or anything and said a very quick good-bye), I realized that I had been optimistic about talking to them myself and at least figuring out what went wrong even if we had to apply again. But quite pointedly, my optimism was nothing short of dashed and I was left in a mess of anxiety and completely upset.

You know, it’s one thing to know that everything is going to be ok, because it is. I know it will be, one way or another. But I have to tell myself it’s also ok to BE in that moment, to feel what I feel. I mean, this is something that my entire heart is woven into. This whole process has cost us so much money and time and has tested our faith and strength so much. Then to hear that the man was totally unwilling to help me and not even feel bad about it? For an optimistic person like me, that’s hard to handle.

I’m a problem solver. I’m used to figuring out my own problems, my friends problems, and my students problems. That’s what I do. And to have a problem that means so much to me personally unsolved and nothing I can do about it, that’s almost heart shattering.

The thing is, I’m ok now. But at that moment, I almost had a meltdown. Mix the stress of wondering how his residency is ever going to be done, let alone the thought of citizenship afterwards. Mix that with the 20 children I’m responsible for all day. Mix that with the table full of 4+ hours worth of grading that I need to do. Mix that with the mass amount of paperwork I have to do before the end of the month to meet government deadlines for education. Sometimes it honestly gets too hard to handle.

And that’s what I want you guys to know. I do hope you gain happy influences from my blog; that you learn to hopefully see God’s hands even in the worst of things. But I don’t want to be fake; I want you to know that I’m human and sometimes life does get too much for me in the moment. I know I will pull through, I know God will carry me when I need it, but it’s ok to admit you have too much going on or too much in your head. Breaking down is a way of dealing with all of those emotions you carry, and that’s perfectly ok. Take a walk, watch a show, exercise, or lay down and listen to music. Do what it takes for you to get through that moment because when that moment has passed, however long it takes, you will be able to deal with it later or at least have the mental clarity to get the help you need. You can do it.

So there I go. Now you guys know. Life really isn’t all rainbows and butterflies but much more a cartoon strip of repeatedly falling and getting back up on your feet. The main point is not the falling, it’s about the getting back up. As long as you can do that, you’ve already won the battles you will face.