Focus Change: From Weight to Health

I’ve almost been vegan for a year. Can you believe it? Time has gone by so quickly, and I don’t regret a second of it! So I thought I’d fill you in on my progress, and something that switched mentally along the way.

When I first went vegan, in the end of June/beginning of July 2015, I went through a week of major withdrawal; not from animal products, but from cheese! My husband ate nachos almost daily, and the smell of melted cheese would be ever so tempting. So how did I combat it? By having a piece of fruit in my hand and shoving it in my mouth… lol. You do what you have to do.

From there, it got easier. However, since I was so excited about this vegan world, I started looking for everything vegan in the grocery stores. I subscribed to a local Organic Box delivery which was the greatest thing because then I was able to select organic produce to be delivered weekly so that I always had fruit and veggies available. But as the fall came, things changed.

In the colder weather, I wanted cooked foods all the time. No problem, really. You can easily be a cooked food vegan. But, with a few complications in starting up my next school year, I started grabbing denser calorie, fast food. This meant hitting much too much of the shelves and freezers in the grocery stores. Not only was I excited that so many things were vegan, but I was able to try so many vegan products. Let’s just say, I was not paying attention to the macronutrient breakdown in any of them. My diet was very high in fat.

Now, I was already mentally transitioning from a person who had heavily counted calories, starved myself to lose weight, and pretty much obsessed with being thin to someone who was just concerned about being healthier for myself and doing what I felt God was calling me to do. That didn’t make it any easier when I found my weight still climbing. I was eating all that I cared for, reaching a state of being full but not being stuffed. I felt pretty well, but I knew the weight gain was not what I wanted. However, I continued on because it was easy to do.

Christmas came, and I was so excited to travel to the states to try some new vegan restaurants. They were AMAZING. But it hit me when my mother-in-law had to ask my husband if she should even bother asking me if I wanted to sort through some clothes of hers before she donated them. That told me right away everyone noticed my weight gain. I started to feel pretty bad.

The following two months presented me with some of the greatest stress I have had in quite awhile. My husband left for school in the states, I moved our entire apartment myself, making appointments to sell items along the way. As soon as things were finally moved, I had to prepare report cards. As soon as that was over, I had to prepare for parent-teacher interviews. Needless to say, I got really sick after that. I literally did not have a single break, and as happy as I was to be leaving our old place, I hit the point of nostalgia as it was emptied and I was doing it alone. Emotional ups and downs, zero rest, and not eating was a recipe for disaster, and a time to hit my highest weight. I knew things had to change.

I was not giving up veganism, that was not an issue. Veganism had made me feel better about pretty much everything. In fact, when I was not reminded about my weight gain, I actually felt amazing. But I knew I could do better.

With my husband in school, and I taking on all of our bills, the money was cinched tight. I had/have a very small budget which meant all those vegan junk foods were few and far between. I actually had to start cooking again! And you know what? I felt even better than before. I found out that my greatest eating pattern is eating raw throughout the day (mostly fruit) and eating a cooked meal in the evening. The cooked meal ranges from pasta to potatoes to veggies and vegan proteins, to vegan sushi, to cream of wheat, to sandwiches. They are not complicated at all, and are whole-food based. I feel vibrant and amazing and have even found a 6-day pattern of attending the gym again. And that’s when it happened: I started caring less about my weight gain.

I knew I was bigger than I wanted to be, but I chose to trust the system. People have been through this before; I’m not the only one. God’s original diet for us was the fruits of the earth, and I was closer than ever to following that diet. I began to pray for God to not only bless my food before I ate it, but to bless my efforts in trying to eat the way He designed for us, and for my results to show to others that this is His design as well. I began to pray before workouts for the same thing. And then I continued to eat when I was hungry and stop when I was full, except this time, it was whole plant foods from home.

You know what? In less than two months, I am down 14 pounds from my heaviest. Did I cut calories at all? No. In fact, I have been logging my food everyday just to see how much I’m eating. Some days, I’m not very hungry and I only eat around 1500 calories. I don’t like to go lower than this, so that does involve an some extra food I probably wouldn’t have otherwise eaten. Some days, I’m super hungry and can eat over 3000 calories. I’m not starving my body anymore. I’m giving it the healthy nutrition it needs, and it’s working.

I’ve always worked out which you’ll see if you have followed this blog for quite awhile, so that has not changed. I’m currently doing 3 full-body circuits a week with 3 cardio sessions between and 1 rest day. I’m getting stronger, and my endurance is better. I absolutely love it.

So I’m continuing on my vegan journey, in love with it greatly. My father has started his own fitness journey and to my surprise, displayed a picture of a blender with raw vegan protein powder. He’s been making banana/protein smoothies. It’s a huge step! My mother has been trying to cut down on the animal consumption within the house, and a coworker of mine has just begun her own vegan journey as well. More and more I’m realizing that people are waking up to the reality of how great a vegan diet is, for health reasons, beliefs, ethical and environmental reasons. It is truly the greatest. And though weight loss is awesome, it beats nothing to knowing your body is healthy and going to last you a little longer. When you eat healthy, the body releases the fat that is not good. It’s a slow process, and already within the two months, I’ve had over a week of being stalled on the exact same weight. But I continued nonetheless, and it paid off with a lower weight break in the end. So take courage. If I can do this, you can too. Start researching and be awakened to the world of truth that is out there. It’s truly amazing how deceiving the world is. Get to the nitty gritty and find out for yourself; the only regret you’ll have is that you didn’t do it sooner.

A Maritime Way of Life

Recently, I have returned from my vacation visiting my family in New Brunswick for almost two weeks. I love returning home. There truly is no place like home. ❤

Going home is so important to me each year because it’s a break away from my daily “big city life”. Home, is a wee bit of redneckville mixed with a slow-paced existence. It’s the perfect combination.

In New Brunswick, it is totally and regularly possible that you may be the only car on the highway at any given time. Let me repeat that: At any time, you may be the only vehicle on the highway. That NEVER happens in the city.

Famous Hartland Covered Bridge. The longest one left standing!

New Brunswick is full of trees and rivers. Not just any trees either. New Brunswick is called the “Picture Province” for a reason: it has the most BEAUTIFUL variety of autumn colours you’ll ever see. And since the forests are everywhere with gorgeous lakes running through the province, the view is breath-taking. One day my mom and I even played “tourist” in our own province because it was such a beautiful day and the scenery along the drive overwhelmed us. It’s amazing when your own province can cause those awe-inspired feelings inside of you. I can tell you certainly the city does not do that for me at all.

In New Brunswick, nobody ever seems in a hurry. I’m sure people may be rushed for appointments or work in the morning, but honestly, you never feel a sense of rushing around. There seems to be so much time, so much laid-backness that you don’t get that crazy time-strapped feeling. Can you imagine life that way? I think it’s definitely something I used to take for granted when I lived there. I would give anything not to feel that way here in the city… the city that never has enough time for all that you need to do. And maybe that’s just the point…

In a smaller province, you don’t see as many people working themselves to death. New Brunswickers know how to have fun and how to get work done in a smaller amount of time. Families have time for families. Now, granted, a lot of people are on welfare because the economy is not the greatest, but even the people who do work still get together in LARGE groups of friends and spend time with their families every day. I can tell you as a big city teacher, this is something I don’t see often.

Now, why did I put LARGE groups of friends above? Well, when you live in smaller places, you know more people, and generally, in smaller places, all of the people get together. If someone’s having a party at their house, feel free to stop in. It’s an open door policy. Everybody knows everybody, and if you don’t know someone, know that you will be going through the stages of figuring out whether you’re to be trusted and accepted in the group or not.

It truly is an open door policy. People have less places to be, and more time to be home. So if you feel like visiting anyone, there is rarely a chance you need to call before going over. In fact, people LOVE when you stop in to visit. All the time I just go over to whoever’s house and knock on the door and never once will you be turned away unless of course someone is busy which of course, as stated above, doesn’t usually happen. And even if they are busy, they will stop to talk. It’s just the way they generally are.

Four-Wheelers (also known as ATVs or Quads) and snowmobiles are accepted methods of transportation and are regularly used. Due to the economy in the Maritimes, New Brunswickers use four-wheelers and snowmobiles as cheap methods of transportation. Most places in the country areas or small towns are accessible by these methods, and thus save on money. Gas is also more expensive in NB so it saves on gas as well. They are also a form of recreation. I basically grew up on a four-wheeler; it was the first real thing I learned how to drive on my own. I LOVED when my entire family would go on day trips. We’d make a stop at the local convenience store for gas and some snacks (all 8 wheelers of us) and then head out for the day. Most of NB’s railways have been dug up, so the trails that are left are super easy to travel on, not to mention the off road trails we’d venture out on. In the city, you don’t even have a chance to do this unless you have a truck to haul your machine outside the city to some acceptable place. In NB, go out into your back yard and begin.

There is rarely a person who will walk by without saying hello to you, nor a car that will drive by without waving at you. The reason for this? Most NBers are just friendly people. Definitely not a city thing…

Snowmobile parking lots truly exist in the winter.

New Brunswickers aren’t worried about the newest and greatest things. They could care less if they owned everything designer or if their house was brand new. In fact, that’s one thing I love about New Brunswick. They maintain houses that are hundreds of years old, some that are still cared for and lived in by families. You don’t get sick of seeing the same house after the same house as you do in the city. You actually get to see real architecture, large mansions of houses from people of old, molded tin ceilings, stained-glass windows, etc… The houses are simply beautiful! And even some houses that aren’t as grand that are 50+ years old are still loved and lived in, in New Brunswick. People (mostly) have respect for items. It’s not a “Oh I’ll just wait until the next one comes out… ” or “I need a new _________ that’s bigger and better.” They simply live for what they can afford and don’t lay around complaining about what they don’t have. I mean, here in the city, people complain, there are massive line-ups for items to come out the next day, people are throwing away perfectly functional items just because they’ve become “outdated”. It’s such a breath of fresh air to go to somewhere that people aren’t completely consumed with consumerism. People know and can appreciate a good find at the DollarStore. People know how to hunt for bargains that will keep them going. Brand new cars? Aside from my mother, my step father and myself, I can’t really tell you anyone else in my family who has ever bought a new car. They always buy used because it’s cheaper and it gets them by. I love the whole mindset. In fact, in this recent trip, my father quoted me this, “I don’t look at things as how long I can afford them; I look at things as how long can I keep them.” Amazing.

It’s so much more family-oriented. I’m not saying it doesn’t happen, but it’s rare for a family not to spend regular time together. And I’m not talking just the parents and kids, I mean aunts and uncles, grandparents, cousins, etc. Everytime I go home, I spend the majority of my time visiting relatives because that’s who I grew up with and was close to. My great aunts and uncles, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, my parents and siblings, my great grandmothers, everyone. I grew up in a close but large family, and I wouldn’t have traded it for anything in the world. From what I gather from most of my students, many of them rarely see their extended family. In fact, it’s usually only for family reunions. I love that I don’t have to wait for a reunion. I just get up and go, knock on the door, and then sit for hours talking. It’s seriously the best.

I’m sure I could keep writing on this topic and all the things I love about the Maritime life. And of course, these won’t apply to everyone. But being born a small-town, Maritime (NB) girl, I still feel this way about my province every time I go home. In fact, my dad commented how I still call NB home, but that’s because it always will be. I love the way of life there and it will always be my breath of fresh air.

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…

Celebration of Learning

I’m not sure how many other schools do this, but every year, our school hosts what we call a Celebration of Learning. It is essentially student-led conferences, but rather than staying in a stationary place, the students have stations with either activities, projects or discussion places set up in order to demonstrate to their parents or families what they have been learning.

The tables I included in my room this year were:
Table 1 – Welcome Table – Take the piece of paper that has the activities and tables outlined as you travel around the room.
Table 2 – French – Play a memory match game using the cards which contain the French and English days of the week.
Table 3 – L.A. – Show your parents the textbook “Volcano” and describe what you have learned about Mount St. Helens. Then look at the Slideshow to show your picture with your volcano project.
Table 4 – Art – Show your parents your Huichol Yarn Painting and describe the method you are using to complete it.
Table 5 – Math – Get your bag of Skittles from the teacher and complete the written ratios.
Table 6 – Science – Using the materials provided, demonstrate the experiment we performed in class to prove that air takes up space (big, clear tub filled with water, clear glass, blank paper).
Table 7 – Spelling – Give your parents a spelling test using any lesson we have studied.
Table 8 – Social Studies – Share your plan with your family to help a problem in your community.
Table 9 – Bible – Using the Bibles provided, share one thing you have learned since studying Revelation.

This night does take a large amount of time to plan and set up, but the effects of it are awesome. There is little for the teacher to do, other than the set up and preparations. Instead, you get to sit back, make sure everything is running smoothly, and watch how the students interact with their own parents. You get to see parents smiling and laughing with their children. It’s really amazing to watch the relationships that get strengthened in a night like this.

I also like it because it causes busy parents to set extra time aside to sit and be interested in what their children are doing. I think the extra time alone, with the spotlight being on them in their classroom makes the night that much more special.

I’m curious to hear if your school does anything like this. Leave a comment below! I’m always up for new ideas!

Priorities: They Can Be Hard

As many teachers will know, teaching can easily consume your life. It’s so much more than being present and teaching children. There is planning, grading, documenting, extracurriculars and so much more than goes into our job. There are so many hours we put into this job that we aren’t compensated for; that take away from our family lives.

It has become an issue with my husband several times. There are weeks I’m home late every night not because of grading but because of meetings and other things I was asked/told to be involved with which then leaves time at home where I’m tired, have housework to do and grading on top of trying to spend time with my husband. And when report card times come around, forget trying to talk to me the whole extended weekend. There is always so much to do.

An opportunity came up that I said I wouldn’t miss again four years ago. Work would be sending me for free. Spouses are also allowed to come, provided they pay their way. It’s an awesome opportunity. So naturally I signed up myself and my husband. The problem came up that my husband still does not have his papers and as we discovered last time, if he leaves the country again, he may never be allowed back and the years of work we’ve done so far will be thrown out. We just can’t take that chance again.

My husband would rather I didn’t go without him. I would be in a foreign country and he could not live with himself if something happened to me and I didn’t come back. I can say that I was mad at him for awhile. I was mad that he didn’t want me to go. I was mad that he couldn’t see this as the opportunity that I did. I was mad at him for being selfish. I was so mad.

But then I remembered and thought about (for a few days until it sunk in) that two mentors of mine, from the beginning of my teaching career, warned me: God first, family second, work third. It also struck me about a worship conversation we had at work one time where another teacher brought up about a marriage seminar where it was discussed that what God has brought together, let no man pull apart. I also thought back to the many marriage books and people I follow that have provided excellent, Christian (and for non-Christians as well) marriage advice where the best thing you can do is to respect your husband because in doing so, it will – whether now or eventually – show him how much he means to you and often will reflect a change in his behaviour towards you as well. Needless to say, I shouldn’t be mad.

I chose to undergo a mini-lecture about cancelling our reservations (work-related). I chose to take on the cancellation fees though I still haven’t heard how much that is yet. I chose to eventually be questioned over and over about why I didn’t go on the cruise (nobody aside from who needed to know, knows yet) and I will choose to defend my husband over the situation because he is simply my husband. I choose to respect his wishes. I know it is out of his heart that he wants to do as much as he can to protect me. Maybe I won’t get to travel. Maybe this may knock me out of my social-related situation at the school. But at the end of the day, my first mission is and always will be my marriage and if I can’t be a good steward of that, then I have already failed in a mission given from God. I’m not willing to do that. I need to be a witness for God to my husband and that is what I’m going to do.

I love my job, but I love my husband more. And so I do not hold a grudge but I choose to respect him. Although anxiety may come when I know the others are leaving for this trip, I will choose to remember that he was only saying it out of love, and pray for the patience and understanding that I need. God is the ultimate provider of that all-encompassing peace. ❤

Truck Respect

So as I’ve already mentioned, my husband’s truck is a beast of a truck. It has a 3-inch lift kit, and is a Dodge Ram 3500. It’s a big truck.

A dark picture, but you can see how little it makes the Charger look.

Last night as we were driving home from the restaurant (my sister’s birthday and my dad was in town), we were on a road where I had to move across four lanes, merging as I went (nothing immediately causing me to cross all four at once).

Of course some lanes were empty, some were not. I was consistently checking my mirrors and shoulder checking to see when it would be clear. But to my surprise, as I was merging into one lane, a car had sped up and either merged right behind me or simply just came up quickly behind me. Either way, it honestly looked like a close call.

I was already in an emotional state after saying good-bye to Jewel, and then already having survived a few accidents myself, something that looked so close put me in a bit of alarm. But it was at that moment that I noticed something.

My husband, who was following me in his truck, immediately put on his signal to turn into my lane. He was up beside the car that had almost rear-ended me. And you know what happened? The car backed off and let him in.

Wow!

There were a couple other incidents on my drive that I just watched and noticed how if I did something, the other vehicles didn’t notice and/or didn’t care. But if my husband did it in his big truck right behind me, they all of a sudden seemed to care and get out of his way. Amazing how that works!

And so I have termed this incidence: truck respect. Seriously, the city people are either afraid of the big trucks or something. But without a doubt, there is some major road respect which I admit was pretty awesome. I felt safer knowing I had my guardian husband and his guardian truck at my back the whole way. And as God was with the both of us, we travelled safely.

What do you think? Have you noticed any “truck respect” on the roads? What are your thoughts about big trucks in the city? (Hint: I used to not like them, they do seem to take up too much room. But when it comes to safety, I have an all new respect!)

I’m About to do This My 27th Time and I Still Don’t Like It!

Doing something 27 times that you don’t even like seems crazy, doesn’t it? That’s because it is! Especially considering I haven’t hit my 27th birthday yet! And you would have total rights to call me crazy, if it had all been in my control. You see, these 27 same events spanned over my lifetime, starting from my newborn year. These 27 events are the amount of times I’ve moved. And yes, the 27th time is about to happen in less than a week. And no, I’ve never learned to enjoy it. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I quite detest it.

I’ll take you on a little history ride since it’s the only thing that seems to make sense to me. Whenever I look back on my life, I’m only able to recall the years and ages that things happened because of where I lived or what grade/school I was in at the time. My life has been compartmentalized in my mind because there are so many things involved that it only made sense to tie them to the place I was since those are the smallest divisions I could make. So here we go!

When I was born, my mother took me “home”. Now I call this place home because it was the first place I had known as home and we still own this house today. My mother in fact has done many amazing renovations to it (magazine-worthy kitchen) and is living there now. At the time I was born, my grandparents (her parents) were living there and so she herself went “home”.

Very shortly after, my father had arranged an apartment for us to live in. This was about an hour away from “home”, but it was my mother and father’s first home together. We didn’t stay here incredibly long as my father was looking for a permanent house.

My father did in fact find a permanent house of which he still lives in today. Of course he has done renovations to his house as well, but he is situated on a nice hill where you can eat your supper, look out and see the city lights twinkle in the night. Great location, and I distinctly remember having a blue sign on top of my bedroom door with my name followed by the word AVE. My room was named after me!

Things did not go so well between my father and mother, and after a couple years, my mother went “home”. I can remember my father visiting us sometimes, but they were unable to patch their relationship. By this time, my sister had entered the world and she was a very sick baby. My grandmother and my mother would take turns driving, walking, rocking, etc… all night long because she would cry and cry. My parents of course headed to divorce.

Not too too much later, my father met the man that would become my step-father. This of course meant that we would not leave the town we lived in, but we would relocate to his place. As convenient as it was to go to his place, I loved being able to stay in my hometown. Of course I wished my father and my mother would get back together, but after some hateful months, my step-father did become my friend. The best part about the town is that my family was where. My dad’s parents, his brothers and sister with their families which meant my cousins and I all went to the same school. My mom’s parents were obviously still there. Basically my family was all there except my dad. And I looked forward to the weekends I had with him.

After several years of being “home”, we had to leave my family behind, the only school I had ever known, the closeness I had grown up with (to this point). I was sad, there’s no denying it. We moved roughly 2 1/2 hours away into a rental farmhouse (no barns but lots of land). The house itself was pretty nice, and we were so far in the country that instead of a school bus picking you up, there was a man with a boat of a car that made several trips picking up students along the way. Talk about interesting! I can even remember a lady with baked goods coming to our door as she did once a week to sell her baked items. Talk about country living at it’s best! I made friends fairly easily here, although I missed “home” very much. The reason for this move was due to my step father’s job relocation as he drove truck at the time and had switched trucking companies.

After a year, it was time to leave again. Again my step father was getting closer to his trucking work, and so I lived in my first city. We lived in an apartment, in a school that was ok but that I didn’t feel like I quite fit in. We were required to play the ukulele and I had never seen one before. The other students had been playing for years and so I was expected to pick it up right away. I struggled, but we only remained in this place for a little over a month before we left again.

My step father was again relocated. I believe this next place was called a city, but it was indeed a very small one. Again we were in an apartment building in the basement. It was small, but we had the police department outside our front door. If anything, it was a safe place to be. I quite liked my school here, and although I had missed the first month, I jumped right in (no crazy musical requirements) and made tonnes of friends. I loved being here. Sometimes between this move and the previous two, my brother also joined our family which of course made a 2-bedroom apartment a tight fit with 5 of us in it.

But of course, once again we had to move when the year was over. This time, we returned to a farm. My parents had been looking for one, and they found a beautiful, old farm that had land reaching down to a large lake. So large you would almost second guess it was the opening to the ocean. On our property we had fields, forest, a pioneer cemetery, we owned half of an open pond, and all of a pond that I considered “magical”. It was surrounded by tree and you only knew it was there if you walked into that circle of mini-forest. The pond was spring-fed and little streams of trickling water would run through the forest from it. When you were inside the circle by the pond, the rest of the world would fade away and you were left in this magical place. This place will forever hold my heart. We stayed on the farm for 2 years. We had everything from cows, horses, pony, chickens (both meat and egg-laying), turkeys, quail, rabbits, dogs, cats, goats, etc. We had never been farmers in our lives and we jumped right in! It was fun and at the same time, so laborious! Here, I made one of my best friends. We spent so much time together that we became like sisters. We were the 3rd and 4th stops on the bus which meant it usually took us an hour on the bus to get to school in the mornings and an hour to get home. But we loved every minute. However, as work would have it, this is the time when my step-father no longer had a job and had to go west, and travel back and forth. So the decision was made to go west with him when school concluded that second year.

We sadly sold all of the animals on the farm, and packed up. My mother and brother right away left to go west with my step-father, but my sister and I stayed with our grandparents so we could spend more time with our father. So for the time being, our belongings were placed back at “home” and we travelled between the two places. I had never seen my dad cry in my life until the moment he found out we were leaving not just to another town or city, but to the other side of the continent. This was one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced.

At the conclusion of the summer, my grandparents, my sister and I packed up the van and hit the road. It was a 4-day journey to cross the continent. I was ever so glad to be off the road when we finally made it. Our new place was a townhouse, again with only 2 bedrooms. We had a very short amount of time in this house as after 2 days, we decided to travel to the big city to show my grandparents around before they made their journey “home”. We had a great time with them, but I was extremely sad to see them leave. That was my last little bit of “home” that I had with me. And these were my mom’s parents who no matter what, no matter where we went, made sure they always came and saw us and always made sure we had what we needed. We drove back to our place while they took off for their next 4-day journey. I think I had a total of 4 days in this new place before we got the phone call, and my grandfather had died in a car accident on his way “home”. My grandmother had called from the hospital. She would later need surgery to re-align her nose. The friend they had driving with them broke several bones. My grandfather had simply not made it. This was probably the hardest thing that has ever really happened to my family. This is the man I had spent most of my life with, the man I knew would do anything in the world for me. I was his first grandchild, my mom was an only child. He took care of us more than any other person, he was always there. I went into severe denial over this. I mean, the man who has chased us his whole life, no matter where we moved, is gone? That just can’t happen! Of course, we immediately went “home”.

My mother jumped on the first plane possible. I remember her falling onto the ground as I was trying to hide around the corner and hear what the conversation was about. The only words I remember was right before my mom started crying, she said “Oh… Mom… “. I knew immediately what that meant. Nobody had to tell me anything. I just went into mental shock. So she jumped on the first plane, while we stayed at my great aunt’s farm for a few days until plane tickets were cheaper to fly the 4 of us home. I started school late that year which ended up being ok because it was the school I had started my life in and I still knew everything there, including my cousins. But the manner in which I started school again that year was different. I was now back to living in my “home”, but it was just my grandmother and I. The house held an empty void, one that took forever to sink in. You see, my grandfather had an office in “town” for his used car business that also had a bedroom in it for the nights he didn’t feel like coming home. It was so easy for me to just think that Grampy was at his office, and sometime he would come home. The rest of my family had moved back to my step-dad’s place as we have never sold that either. But I knew my grandmother needed someone to be there. I wanted to be there. It was so hard to accept he was gone. Even now as I sit here and remember this, tears fall freely from my eyes. A loss that was not and still is not easy to accept. But I was “home” where I definitely needed to be for the next couple years.

At the close of the 2 years, my family met to discuss the problems. My dad had run out of work options (as an electrician) and after talking to his boss, there would be no other options for quite awhile. My mother did not work as we were joined by my second baby brother. We had to move west again. We literally had come back from a campmeeting, and had one week to each pack a garbage bag with clothes and whatever we wanted. That was it. And we made the journey west again with 6 people in a 6 person car. The arrangements were made ahead of time for us to have a place. However, when we got there, we were told that nothing was arranged for us, and so our first living space became a suite at a local hotel. As exciting as this might be for a kid, it was not for us. Try going to school and having your new friends ask you where you live, and you say a one-bedroom suite at the local hotel. Not the greatest.

Thankfully, my mom met a couple at church who had divided their 3-level house into 3 living spaces. Their parents had owned the middle floor, but were on vacation and had no problems letting us use it. We were into a 2-bedroom which was better than 1, but it was still pretty full.

The top floor was being rented by an actual tenant and we were promised her place as soon as she left. She did leave, we moved up a floor, but this is where the problems began. My dad was travelling back and forth for work, and so my mom was left to deal with the issues. The issues were things like mice, bats, bugs, etc. And the landlord would yell at my mom instead of offering to fix the problems.

Thankfully, a friend of my mom’s told her that she could get out of there right away and temporarily we could live in a spare basement bedroom she had. Although this was a good gesture for getting us out of our current problem, can you imagine the 6 of us all living in 1-bedroom with all of our belongings? I don’t have to tell you that this did not last long.

I was in high school at the time, and my mom came running into the school one day with the intention of pulling me out of class. She was so upset that we couldn’t keep living the way we were, and with my dad working away like he was, I very quickly had assumed role of second adult in the family. My vice-principal pulled her into his office before she could get to my class. He very kindly asked her why she was crying and she told him everything. Fortunately, his twin brother was head of the university that shared the same campus, and said he would call and see if we could have one of the college apartments. And this became our next living place. It was right on campus of all of our schools which was easy for us to go to school and easy for friends to come over. We made friends very quickly and I even had some that lived right on campus in the dormitories which turned out to be a great arrangement. Of course, when we first moved in, we had no furniture and so we ate, slept, and did everything on the floor. Eventually, my dad had been working enough that we were able to afford the necessary items, beds, table, etc…

Although that had been a pretty good place, it was a college apartment and we were not a college family. Plus, we had an option to move about an hour away from this place and Dad would actually be able to come home every night from his job placement. At first, we did not have a house arranged, and as crazy as it sounds, we put most of our belongings in a storage unit and bought a fifth-wheel trailer. Yes, the 6 of us lived in a fifth-wheel trailer. The front of the trailer had a master bedroom, and the back of the trailer had 2 sets of bunkbeds, so the 6 of us did indeed fit. We were kind of outside a small city, of course in a campground. And as fun as this was, this did not help us get into school. We instead started homeschool for the first time ever as we lived in this trailer for approximately 4 months before the campground closed.

We did buy a house finally! We moved to the big city, had a nice house. We lived here for just about 2 years, and after I finished homeschool for that first year (and held my first full-time job), I then went back to an amazing school for my graduation year (and of course was forced to drop back down to part-time).

By the end of the two years, my oldest younger brother had been diagnosed with epilepsy which was hard on the family. They had him on so many different medicines, some that left him so angry he’d punch holes in the walls. My father’s job ended for him being able to come home every night, and was forced to go further away so he’d travel back and forth again. My mother needed the extra help, she needed to have more family. And so the decision was made. I would have to decide what university I was going to attend because my family was going back “home”. And to get our house ready to sell, we moved back into the trailer, into a different campground, where we lived for another 2 months. Camping, to me, has developed a totally different definition.

When my parents left, I decided I wanted to go back to the campus we had lived on before. Most of my friends would be attending that university, and I knew the teachers and the dorm supervisors and everyone pretty well. Of course, since they had both university and high school dorms, they decided my sister would stay with me, which meant we had to split a room. Now, it’s ok for a university student to stay with a high school student IF they are in the high school dorm. But not for a high school student to stay with a university student int he university dorm. This is something I struggled with. This meant I had to adhere to ALL of the high school rules. I had to be in the dorm by 7:30, lights out at 10:30 (times may be slightly off, but close). Room checks once a week (maybe even once a day). It was totally restricting.

After Christmas, they said that they were expecting an influx of high school students, so they asked if I would move to the university dorm. Of course this meant I could have some more freedom, but I also had to find a person that was looking for a roommate and ask to move in. I did find a girl that wasn’t so bad, though incredibly interesting at times. It was only for a few months anyway and it ended up not being bad at all.

When university ended, I was not allowed to fly home until my sister was done school two months later. So then, I left the university dorm, moved across campus again back into the high school dorm, but luckily enough had my own room this time. It was so nice to finally have a room to myself.

She ended school, we ended up driving home with my step-dad, and only I came back out. They decided my sister wasn’t read to leave home yet. So this time, I actually spent the whole year in the university dorm with a roommate that had actually arrived after me, but was very studious and quiet. I spent most of my time with my new best friend up in her room anyways. All-in-all, it was a pretty good year.

The next year, I had made arrangements to move out of the dorm. I was tired of the bills, the extreme cost of cafeteria food, and was ready to make it on my own for the first time. I moved into a bedroom of one of the staff on campus. They inhabited the basement while they rented out 3 bedroom upstairs. My best friend also moved into one of the bedrooms. I absolutely loved living in this house for the last two years of my education. It was nice to have all that freedom, cook your own food, invite people over if you wanted to, no curfews, it was great!

When college ended, and I got my first job, I had to relocate as I was definitely unwilling to drive almost an hour each day to get to work. A girl I had graduated with got a job at the same school I had and so we were able to rent a very nice apartment and split the cost. This worked well for a year, but I had gotten engaged in that same year, as well as my sister was travelling back and forth from working for my step-dad, and you could tell my roommate didn’t like my people there as often as they were. She enjoyed having people around, just not the two I had and I ended up spending quite a bit of time either locked in my bedroom or out of the house walking around malls or wherever just to get out of the house.

And thus brings me to my present-day apartment. My job at the previous place was only a maternity leave, and had ended. My next permanent placement was here, in the big city I live in. I wanted to move out of my other place fairly quickly, so I looked for a place that was fairly cheap based on the size. We have had a few problems in this place, but overall, I don’t regret coming here first. This was my husband and my first home together. We have come to outgrow this place is the problem. It is a small apartment.

The next place we’re moving, next week, is a townhouse. A 2-bedroom with a large basement. It’s not the newest, but it’s pretty nice. It doesn’t have the large yard I’d like to have for the dogs, but it’s better than nothing. Right now it takes me about 1/2 hour to get to work, and it should take less than 5 minutes at the new place. When you consider big city stop-and-go traffic, it will save us so much money on gas. There will finally be enough room for our stuff. There will be a place I can have an office for my home businesses. I am so looking forward to this new place, as much as I hate moving. It’s so much work, but I think in the end, it will be worth it.

Now, the sad part is, I know this won’t be my last move. I don’t know where I want to be, but I know it’s not in this city. My husband has not yet received his papers and so I’m the only one who is able to work which means I have to maintain my job. And I do love my job, but I don’t love this city. I will always be a small town girl at heart. And someday, I’ll figure out where that place for me to be is.