Rub a Dub Dub

I have been challenged to write the book that I always wanted to write. Reflecting upon this challenge I've decided that I just need to get into the habit of writing. So I am going to write stories from my life in a serial fashion (though I might jump around a bit).

When I was very young, a toddler, I remember doing a few quirky little things. I remember the smell of food coming from the kitchen, the awareness of my mother being in there. I remember climbing over the edge of the crib I shared with my older brother (who kicked).

One memory in particular stands out. Rub a dub dub, 3 men in a tub.

There was a tile missing on the wall, someone had tried to glue it back on but it didn't stick. The glue was bumpy, it swirled around like railroad tracks. The wall behind it was black, like a tunnel that something could come out of at any moment. We were all sitting in the bath covered in bubbles. I piled some on top of my head and Daniel laughed. A thought came to mind of a nursery rhyme I had heard, "Rub a Dub, Dub, 3 Men in a tub." "That's us!" I thought (Daniel, Jono and I) and inspired by the poem I thought that if I could find a boat to float in then that would be even better. So I climbed over the slippery ledge of the tub and snuck into the kitchen, there was a bucket under the sink in there that I knew I would be able to float in. I grabbed it and furtively snuck back to the bathroom. I placed the bucket into the tub, it was floating! Encouraged by this I tried to hop in, and it wiggled around so much I couldn't do it. So I filled it with a bit of water and tried again. This time I was successful! I was so proud of myself, 3 men in a tub and I in my bucket. Of course my Dad had to get a picture of it. I had the biggest smile on my face. :)

~Annie

Some thoughts on my relationships

All of my relationships have been quite different from each other, yet some similar themes have played out in all of them. Passion and betrayal. Attraction and disgust. On the one hand my heart has been full of the joy of discovering another person, my eyes have gazed beyond the ordinary and seen through to the soul of my lovers. At least I fancied that I could see into the depths of their souls. I love this image that I build up of my lovers and when in-congruence occurs between my belief and reality it is painful. There are aspects of all those who I have loved that I still love.

I think who I have loved reveals a lot about me. I love the flawed hero. I've never been into jocks, they think way too much of themselves and I always knew that they wouldn't really be able to relate to me. I was trapped in a way by my first-husband because I was so naive and lonely. Yes I admired his strength, but ultimately I felt alienated and alone when we were together because we had so little in common. I remember once he whisked us (me and the kids) off on a spontaneous family fishing trip. For some reason the feeling of alienation had been growing and I felt loneliness seeping into my heart and despair as I thought of the incongruity between how I felt and how I thought I ought to feel at being whisked away to spend time together as a family. I was, in a way, justified in my anxiety. I have trouble with spontaneity, especially when it involves the kids. I like to feel that I am prepared to take care of their hunger and their thirst. I was a bit angry and sullen, and forlorn. He had taken the kids down to the lakeside, the day was darkening. I sat in the Yukon with a book contemplating my feelings, contemplating the scene, I didn't understand at that time what made me feel as I did, I do now.

Sometimes I worry that I will never find the love that I am really hoping for. Only time will tell...

SG