My Emotions

MVIMG_20191125_211531
Stitched by my love bug, Elizabeth Wilkie.

Note: I haven’t written anything in a while. This will probably answer why. If not, then I am ok with that and you and us and all.

A lot of kiddly things written focus on children’s emotions. How to deal with them, how to embrace them, how to talk about them, etc.

I find dealing with mine and the effect they have on them more challenging.

I’m going through some shit. We all are. But right now, my three and five year old are front row center to the trauma that I’ve finally come to acknowledge. Fun fact: I’ve started healthily (?) dealing with my emotions at the age of 44. I’m 44. Anyway.

My children watch me cry, melt down, become opulent, become broken, build myself back up, apologize, rinse, repeat. Elizabeth and I talk. We converse. We ruminate. The kids sponge.

I’m a bit of a mess. I’m getting on the other side of it (I think), and the kids are along for the ride because they are my family and I love them and I don’t want to hide real feelings from them and my partner agrees. I’ll leave that there and move on.

What Elizabeth and I have figured out is, do not hide from them. They are real, they are big, they are valid. They sometimes consume you. They sometimes tsunami you. It is what you do, when you can, that defines you.

I have trouble sleeping. I cry a lot. I need more hugs and snuggles. I tell people I love them more (only the ones I actually do). I have more anxiety attacks. I deal with them better now. My counselor thinks I use sarcasm as a sword and I think her face is made of farts (unsarcastically). I love my wife more than I ever had yet I am scared that I can’t fully let her know how much because I’m a fucking broken hurt machine that thinks it can pretend it is not.

I tell my kids, subtly, why I’m upset. When they offer me hugs, I scoop ’em large. I try not to yell. I talk to them not at them. I treat my mental health like a broken arm. I’m ok with my broken arm, don’t touch it. YOU TOUCHED IT TOO HARD.

And here I am.

Emotions are real, just like food, or rain, or the flu. If something is in your heart, talk about it freely and honestly. Those who love you will get it. Those who don’t are lucky to hear you talk about it with honesty. Be true to what you are going through, it is the only decent thing you can do. With that said, failure is a test and failing is fine as long as you try to figure out what it all means. If you can’t, ask someone. Also: fuck the haters and those who diminish your feelings. They will someday regret the fact that they decided that emotions are something you can intimidate into healing. Anyway.

I hold my kids longer. I love them muchly. I snuggle them more. I sneak some sleep snuggles from Elizabeth when I can but sometimes it is tough because there are two other awesome humans there that I have to snuggle around. It is tough being the best snuggler, right Elizabeth?

Anyway, hope your holidays didn’t suck. Stay rad you fucking monsters.

Sidenote: I’m off all social media. Elizabeth and my councilor agree that it is not good for me. I can’t fix the world by yelling into the void. Memes are gonna meme. That’s how shit be. Email me or text me. Or don’t. Stay way rad. 

 

Episode 30: Julie Rohr Part 2

 

Screen Shot 2018-11-13 at 12.33.35 PMIn no specific order: Julie and I talk about the ‘D’ word, journalism, connecting to people you can’t connect to, understanding, being brought up religious, giving yourself grace, and even though you have cancer you still have to be a parent. This conclusion of the two-parter is a doozie.

If you haven’t listened to it yet, visit Part 1 HERE.

This episode is powered by ATB and sponsored by the Alberta Podcast Network.  Thank you to Andrew Paul and the Edmonton Community Foundation for the recording space and production help. Thanks to Caitlynn Legris for her recording and vocal talents for the new intro intro. Also, many thanks to the super talented Nathaniel Sutton (@defendtherhino) for the use of ‘Fugitive’ as a theme song. Additional danke to Josh Woodward for the background tracks on the ads. And hey, if you like this episode, you could always buy me a coffee.

alberta-podcast-network-logo-black-2

The UnDad Podcast EP 17: Jana O’Connor PT 1

Jana.jpg

As the Etruscans put it, this one was a doozy. Join me and Jana O’Connor as we cover everything from antiquated idioms to how to butt in line at the dentist (and everything in between). We talked so long that I had to cut it in two. I had to cut it in two because there wasn’t enough crap to cut out of it. Such a good problem.

ALSO: Jana is in the Edmonton Fringe Theater Festival, in “The Cast of the Irrelevant Show: Doing Our Best”. Info is HERE.

ALSO ALSO: I’m doing a little thingy as well, with Samara Von Rad called “Lottery Rejects”. Info can be found HERE.

This episode is powered by ATB and sponsored by the Alberta Podcast Network.  Thank you to Andrew Paul and the Edmonton Community Foundation for the recording space and production help. Thanks to Caitlynn Legris for her recording and vocal talents for the new intro intro. Also, many thanks to the super talented Nathaniel Sutton (@defendtherhino) for the use of ‘Fugitive’ as a theme song. And hey, if you like this episode, you could always buy me a coffee.

alberta-podcast-network-logo-black-2

Sabbatical Star Galactica

 

tip.jpg

Ho. Lee. Shit. Where do I start?

So, we had another bit of magic. On Oct. 25. A girl. Brytallique Arguebarn Firehazard Wilkie. Named after my imaginary childhood ombudswoman.

Nope.

Srsly though, srsly. Calm down guys.

Elizabeth cooked another beauty. The babe (Whom we will call Beth (After MacBeth, the Scottish play that shall not be named)) is wonderful and glorious. 9 lbs 4 ozs of cat-like yelping and opulence.

If she were a ham, which the doctors repeatedly assured me she is not, she would be worth $80.00 going by current Alberta meat prices.

This is how it went down.

The birth of my daughter, poem form:

Roses are red

Violets are not corn

“Why aren’t you giving me anything for the pain?!?”

A baby is born.

See, Elizabeth was too far into labour to get the epidural, so she had to champ it out. And she did. Like a champ.

Really, it all happened so fast. There were contractions, then were was vomit, then I was driving down the Anthony Henday at 150kmh, then we were in the hospital, then there was a lot… a lot… of yelling, then there was baby.

I remember making a joke with the doctors during the birth. They said that Elizabeth should use her anger to push, stop yelling, and use it to push. Then I said if it was cool with her, I was going to head over to my friend Matt’s and hang out with him and drink beer. She says she doesn’t remember me saying this, but Beth was born several minutes later.

Also, I remember a terse moment with the doctor about wether or not I was going to be able to keep the scissors that I cut Beth’s umbilical (twice, ask me about it) with.

Sadly, I did not.

More to come.

Thank you for keeping with me.