Life changes create challenges
Some of you may have noticed I am now publishing this column every other Saturday instead of every Saturday. (And if you didn’t notice, that’s okay too.) When the option of an every-other-week column was presented to me, I surprised myself by accepting.
It was surprising for two main reasons: I find it hard to admit that I can’t fully manage my commitments, and I really don’t like admitting that my life has changed a lot from when I first started writing my weekly column for the Cape Breton Post back in 2000. I can hardly believe I’ve been sharing the highs and lows of living “away” for 15 years. I had deluded myself into thinking that I was still that same funloving Maritimer with enough energy to do it all. It helped that while I got older, my column head shot stayed the same for many years!
My feelings of overwhelm started back in September when the twins entered kindergarten and my commute practically doubled overnight. Along with the good news that we would soon be moving to a new house (yay!) we realized the house required extensive renovations ( boo!) We then realized that we would need a place to live while renovations took place, so in addition to packing and looking for a contractor and figuring out the financial end of things, we’ve been trying to find a short-term rental. You may be shocked to learn that landlords like short-term leases almost as much as they like renting to families with small, rambunctious children. As I write this, we are set to start demos in two weeks and we are still trying to secure the short-term rental we have our eye on. (Nor have we secured a contractor, but I’ll leave that to another column.) Add to this a busy job and the regular day-to-day stress of taking care of two kids. By writing fewer columns I am sparing you the pain of listening to me whine, because the fun anecdotes are few and far between these days.
Case in point: My Sixth wedding anniversary just passed. I remembered the anniversary at about 7 a.m. that morning while racing around trying to get the kids ready for school. Bernard and I were tired and a bit snippy with each other until I remembered the date. “Well, happy freakin’ anniversary!” I said with a tone that meant, “Well, thanks for nothing!” We both started laughing. What a change from our first wedding anniversary, when we had a big lovey-dovey date night and exchanged romantic, meaningful gifts. This year Bernard got me a FitBit, which I’m trying not to take personally.
There has been one small ray of hope in the rental search. We applied to a cute two-bedroom apartment in a nice nearby neighbourhood. The landlord has requested six references, two paystubs each, letters of employment, a hefty deposit and a lengthy application signed in blood. There is way too much rigmarole around finding housing in Toronto. Bernard took the opportunity to tease me about not being used to Toronto ways and that in Cape Breton a landlord would likely just lean out the window and ask passersby: “Whadya know about Jen Gouthro, b’ye?” His version of the Cape Breton accent is a sad cross between Bob/Doug McKenzie and a pirate. He had better watch it if he wants to reach our seventh anniversary! Not that we’ll remember it anyway.