New Post coming soon.. until then, check out some of my photography over at Deviant Art.
Enjoy!!
D.A.G
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Last Day of 28
Tomorrow is my birthday. I will turn the dreaded 29. So close to a new decade. Argh.
I'm heading to Michigan for some birthday shopping and a nice dinner at the Olive Garden. I leave you then, with the last picture of Double Agent Girl at 28. Be kind. Who knows what 29 will bring. ;)
Thursday, August 21, 2008
New Shoot!
Yesterday, I set up the Ghetto Studio again for a little photo shoot. Here is an example of what you can get with $150.00 worth of pvc piping, two 2X4's, three halogen work lights and a little luck:
So afterwards, I left the studio intact, so that the kids could have a chance at being the star.
Thing Two? Lovin' it. Check her out:
However, Thing One was having none of it:
Gah! Funny thing is, it makes me love him all the more.
**These are examples from the Ghetto Studio and are untouched as of yet. PhineasPoe did something wonderful with one of these photos. Do share with me!**
So afterwards, I left the studio intact, so that the kids could have a chance at being the star.
Thing Two? Lovin' it. Check her out:
However, Thing One was having none of it:
Gah! Funny thing is, it makes me love him all the more.
**These are examples from the Ghetto Studio and are untouched as of yet. PhineasPoe did something wonderful with one of these photos. Do share with me!**
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Aftermath Responds
This is Aftermath's response to my last post: Stigma. He felt the need to speak for himself, and I'm handing over the podium to him. Speak your mind love.
If We're Not Broken, Don't Try to Fix Us
It's always nice when someone writes something nice about you. Perhaps it is even sweeter to read than to hear; a stamp in cyber space for anyone to trip on and discover you. Reading the Agent's thoughts in Stigma, brought back some thoughts and feelings from when I first had The Agent in my "sights". I knew when I met her that she had children. "Yes, two kids,"
she said to me. Red flags didn't get in the way, I broke them long ago. Naturally, I was interested in her situation, trying to figure out just how she got to this point, what exactly was her perfect "fish" (fear not, it makes perfect sense to us). We both knew that in the beginning, what if's don't matter. We needed to see if we had chemistry before we began plotting to take over the world.
Not long before our first date, I had a conversation with someone. We talked about whether or not I should date someone with children. I thought that I could handle one child, if the person was a good fit for me. Of course she also would need to be capable of taking care of her child and not looking for a "daddy" or an ATM in Doc Martins. I didn't want my whole relationship with a woman to revolve around my duties to her and her child. To be honest, at the time, I was really searching for a solo act. Had anyone else been sat in my car, telling me "I'm a three piece meal", I'm not so sure I would have been interested. Those were not her exact words, but you get my meaning.
The Agent and I really connected in our initial conversation over the phone, some nights before. I don't remember being really scared when she told me that she had a family. I had my concerns: what happened in the past, why didn't it work out. I quickly understood. I went home that night and thought: "Hmm, two kids? I'm pretty sure I was at no kids right? Hello? Brain??" - and then - "What's that HEART? Shut UP Brain, Heart is trying to tell me something and I can't hear a FUCKING WORD over you!"
A week later I met the Agents in Training. I could not help but be amazed how open they were, willing to allow me into their little world. They insisted that I supervise the carpet landscape as they masterfully created skyscrapers, using the ancient block technique. Suddenly, I was foreman of this site, launching in on the importance of starting with a strong foundation. "Once we have that, my little under four foot friends, let's see what we can build". From that night on, I clearly saw the other side of the coin. That was just about three years ago.
Now I live with those underpaid block builders and one Double Agent. What they give me, I vow to spend the rest of this life returning. We might just be the lucky ones, even if no one wants to see it. It's ok. It's blinding to think sometimes, just how great things can be if you just give them a chance. Life in the Aftermath is a little different than it used to be. I have three to hug, three to kiss. I have three who depend on me. I have three perfect reasons to make it through a tough day at work. I have three smiles, well four if you include the one they've glued to my face. I have something that you cannot find on e-bay, or collect enough proofs of purchase to send away for. Something didn't work out for either of us, for a reason. I'm packing a suitcase for a place I've never been and they are all I won't leave behind. I vow to be here, building a strong foundation so that Thing One and Thing Two can build to the sky.
The Aftermath.
If We're Not Broken, Don't Try to Fix Us
It's always nice when someone writes something nice about you. Perhaps it is even sweeter to read than to hear; a stamp in cyber space for anyone to trip on and discover you. Reading the Agent's thoughts in Stigma, brought back some thoughts and feelings from when I first had The Agent in my "sights". I knew when I met her that she had children. "Yes, two kids,"
she said to me. Red flags didn't get in the way, I broke them long ago. Naturally, I was interested in her situation, trying to figure out just how she got to this point, what exactly was her perfect "fish" (fear not, it makes perfect sense to us). We both knew that in the beginning, what if's don't matter. We needed to see if we had chemistry before we began plotting to take over the world.
Not long before our first date, I had a conversation with someone. We talked about whether or not I should date someone with children. I thought that I could handle one child, if the person was a good fit for me. Of course she also would need to be capable of taking care of her child and not looking for a "daddy" or an ATM in Doc Martins. I didn't want my whole relationship with a woman to revolve around my duties to her and her child. To be honest, at the time, I was really searching for a solo act. Had anyone else been sat in my car, telling me "I'm a three piece meal", I'm not so sure I would have been interested. Those were not her exact words, but you get my meaning.
The Agent and I really connected in our initial conversation over the phone, some nights before. I don't remember being really scared when she told me that she had a family. I had my concerns: what happened in the past, why didn't it work out. I quickly understood. I went home that night and thought: "Hmm, two kids? I'm pretty sure I was at no kids right? Hello? Brain??" - and then - "What's that HEART? Shut UP Brain, Heart is trying to tell me something and I can't hear a FUCKING WORD over you!"
A week later I met the Agents in Training. I could not help but be amazed how open they were, willing to allow me into their little world. They insisted that I supervise the carpet landscape as they masterfully created skyscrapers, using the ancient block technique. Suddenly, I was foreman of this site, launching in on the importance of starting with a strong foundation. "Once we have that, my little under four foot friends, let's see what we can build". From that night on, I clearly saw the other side of the coin. That was just about three years ago.
Now I live with those underpaid block builders and one Double Agent. What they give me, I vow to spend the rest of this life returning. We might just be the lucky ones, even if no one wants to see it. It's ok. It's blinding to think sometimes, just how great things can be if you just give them a chance. Life in the Aftermath is a little different than it used to be. I have three to hug, three to kiss. I have three who depend on me. I have three perfect reasons to make it through a tough day at work. I have three smiles, well four if you include the one they've glued to my face. I have something that you cannot find on e-bay, or collect enough proofs of purchase to send away for. Something didn't work out for either of us, for a reason. I'm packing a suitcase for a place I've never been and they are all I won't leave behind. I vow to be here, building a strong foundation so that Thing One and Thing Two can build to the sky.
The Aftermath.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Stigma
Being a single mom has never been easy. It wasn't something I wanted to be "when I grew up", it's hard, demanding, frustrating and yet sweetly and overwhelmingly rewarding. When I became pregnant with Thing One, I had a lot of growing up to do. Luckily, as soon as I looked into the eyes of that wrinkly little man, I forgot what "I" was, and became "we". Sacrifice is a given, even to mothers who are lucky enough to have husbands beside them, but I don't think about sacrifice. I don't give those children everything they have and then lament on all I cannot give myself. Giving to them IS giving to me. I live my life to give them the best that I can, I try to be the best role model I can be, going to school and getting my education, teaching them what's important in life. I'm a year from my BA with honours, two from my BEd.
When I became pregnant with Thing Two, my son was just FOUR MONTHS old. I was barely used to being a mother to one, nevermind two. At one point, early in my pregnancy, a person I used to call friend pulled me aside. He wanted to know my intentions, was I going to have this baby? Was I going to keep it? Then he dropped the mother of all bombs in my lap, something I'd never expect from a friend, or an enemy. He said "You might as well have an abortion. With two young kids, whose going to want you now?" I? Was STUPIFIED. Gobsmacked. Did I really just hear this? I promptly shut that man out of my life, and went on to have a beautiful daughter, born exactly twelve months and four days after my son. Despite all the "concern" my family had, I brought that little bundle home to my one year old, and we were just fine. I went back to work when she was two months, I moved, I decided to go to college and I graduated top three in my class. I put that comment behind me.
When I decided to go to university in a city two hours away, my family balked again. Concern. Concern. What happens if the kids get sick. Why can't you go to Brock? It's so much closer. We can help, you can't do it on your own. Yeah, whatever. Cause guess what? I'm starting my fourth year and I've been just fine. They've been lovely years, but that comment - the one that man made so long ago, has crept back into my life. When I wasn't looking and least expected it.
A whole new group of people entered into the edges of my life. People who judged. People who thought a single woman with two young children must be a whore. She must be looking for a "daddy" for her children. A wallet to pay the bills. Some poor sucker who will support her and raise those kids, cause God knows, she isn't able to do it herself. Those people? Suck. For a few years they sucked energy from me, countless nights I cried myself to sleep thinking that nobody truly knows who I am. Nobody could open their eyes and see what I was really all about, or, all that I do for my children.
I met a wonderful man, who has come under the same scrutiny for taking on a "mommy". I think it's terrible that he should have to answer to anyone concerning my situation. What rocks about him, is that he doesn't care. FIRE... FLAMES... bring it. Because that man loves me with all he has. Every day. No matter what comes along, or who doesn't approve. And for that I love him a little more each second of each day of each year. Thankyou Aftermath, for seeing past the stigma. For looking inside and seeing what's real. What's more? Those children have a "daddy". They always did. But they have a special love for the man that lives in this house everyday and treats them like the only children that walk the earth. He holds them when they cry, he talks to them when they need guidance. He plays with them and creates a lifetime of lasting memories. Everytime Aftermath puts his arms around me, those children clamour to get in on the family hug. And that? Beats any comment anyone could ever make.
When I became pregnant with Thing Two, my son was just FOUR MONTHS old. I was barely used to being a mother to one, nevermind two. At one point, early in my pregnancy, a person I used to call friend pulled me aside. He wanted to know my intentions, was I going to have this baby? Was I going to keep it? Then he dropped the mother of all bombs in my lap, something I'd never expect from a friend, or an enemy. He said "You might as well have an abortion. With two young kids, whose going to want you now?" I? Was STUPIFIED. Gobsmacked. Did I really just hear this? I promptly shut that man out of my life, and went on to have a beautiful daughter, born exactly twelve months and four days after my son. Despite all the "concern" my family had, I brought that little bundle home to my one year old, and we were just fine. I went back to work when she was two months, I moved, I decided to go to college and I graduated top three in my class. I put that comment behind me.
When I decided to go to university in a city two hours away, my family balked again. Concern. Concern. What happens if the kids get sick. Why can't you go to Brock? It's so much closer. We can help, you can't do it on your own. Yeah, whatever. Cause guess what? I'm starting my fourth year and I've been just fine. They've been lovely years, but that comment - the one that man made so long ago, has crept back into my life. When I wasn't looking and least expected it.
A whole new group of people entered into the edges of my life. People who judged. People who thought a single woman with two young children must be a whore. She must be looking for a "daddy" for her children. A wallet to pay the bills. Some poor sucker who will support her and raise those kids, cause God knows, she isn't able to do it herself. Those people? Suck. For a few years they sucked energy from me, countless nights I cried myself to sleep thinking that nobody truly knows who I am. Nobody could open their eyes and see what I was really all about, or, all that I do for my children.
I met a wonderful man, who has come under the same scrutiny for taking on a "mommy". I think it's terrible that he should have to answer to anyone concerning my situation. What rocks about him, is that he doesn't care. FIRE... FLAMES... bring it. Because that man loves me with all he has. Every day. No matter what comes along, or who doesn't approve. And for that I love him a little more each second of each day of each year. Thankyou Aftermath, for seeing past the stigma. For looking inside and seeing what's real. What's more? Those children have a "daddy". They always did. But they have a special love for the man that lives in this house everyday and treats them like the only children that walk the earth. He holds them when they cry, he talks to them when they need guidance. He plays with them and creates a lifetime of lasting memories. Everytime Aftermath puts his arms around me, those children clamour to get in on the family hug. And that? Beats any comment anyone could ever make.
Friday, August 15, 2008
Because I feel a little lopsided...
It's odd, at least for me, to do something for one child without doing for the other. Because Thing One and Thing Two are a mere twelve months and four days apart, I tend to do things collectively and equally, if only to cut down on the whining.
With that in mind, I feel it's totally unfair to post a picture of Thing Two, and not pay homage to the beauty that is also Thing One:
Mommy loves you wee one.
Also - I'm away from the blogosphere for the weekend, for a well deserved break.
See you all next week!
D.A.G
With that in mind, I feel it's totally unfair to post a picture of Thing Two, and not pay homage to the beauty that is also Thing One:
Mommy loves you wee one.
Also - I'm away from the blogosphere for the weekend, for a well deserved break.
See you all next week!
D.A.G
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Special Exposure Wednesday
Thanks to the lovely Anissa, I am also sharing a Special Exposure Wednesday.
Just when you think you can't stand it:
Thanks for crashing my practice shoot Thing Two, you made the world brighter.
Love, Mommy.
Just when you think you can't stand it:
Thanks for crashing my practice shoot Thing Two, you made the world brighter.
Love, Mommy.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
I Need Some Help
I'm currently researching a phenomena labelled "sexsomnia". The idea is, that it compares to sleepwalking, sleep talking, sleep eating and sleep driving (which are all disturbing in their own rights).
A Toronto man allegedly raped a girl at a party. They had both fallen asleep on the same couch (at separate ends), and she awoke to find him on top of her. Admittedly, she stated that he appeared bewildered, confused and his vision unfocused. He maintains he has little recollection of the event, and was only alerted to possible sexual congress some hours later when he awoke still wearing a condom.
He was saquitted, given a history of parasomnia, including sexsomnia with a few previous girlfriends.
What do you guys think about this? Is he responsible and LEGALLY culpable because he committed the act? Even though he is apparently completely unaware he is?
Lemme know.. I'm interested....
A Toronto man allegedly raped a girl at a party. They had both fallen asleep on the same couch (at separate ends), and she awoke to find him on top of her. Admittedly, she stated that he appeared bewildered, confused and his vision unfocused. He maintains he has little recollection of the event, and was only alerted to possible sexual congress some hours later when he awoke still wearing a condom.
He was saquitted, given a history of parasomnia, including sexsomnia with a few previous girlfriends.
What do you guys think about this? Is he responsible and LEGALLY culpable because he committed the act? Even though he is apparently completely unaware he is?
Lemme know.. I'm interested....
Monday, August 11, 2008
I? Am a Hormone-Fed Chicken
Today I am guest-posting over at Karen Sugarpants. Show her some love by reading!!
A big thank-you to Sugarpants herself, for allowing me to raid her house for the day, and entertain (I hope) her lovely readers.
Adieu!!
D.A.G
A big thank-you to Sugarpants herself, for allowing me to raid her house for the day, and entertain (I hope) her lovely readers.
Adieu!!
D.A.G
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Life in the Aftermath
Nothing big... just a random conversation with Aftermath. Goes something like this:
Me (leaning towards his eyeball): Swooooohhhhp!
Aftermath: Don't suck out my soul!
Me: Through your eye?
Aftermath: Eyes are windows to the soul.
Me: *blink* *blink*
Aftermath: And I left them open.
Me: Just so you know, I'm blogging this.
**Our love is like Altoids. Curiously strong**
Me (leaning towards his eyeball): Swooooohhhhp!
Aftermath: Don't suck out my soul!
Me: Through your eye?
Aftermath: Eyes are windows to the soul.
Me: *blink* *blink*
Aftermath: And I left them open.
Me: Just so you know, I'm blogging this.
**Our love is like Altoids. Curiously strong**
Friday, August 8, 2008
Before Caffeine I'm NOT Even a Person
DoubleAgentGirl @prp2 LOL. Listen. WIthout caffeine, I'm not EVEN a person. DoubleAgentGirl @prp2 my official morning motto is "No coffee? No talkie." Beware all those who are brave enough to violate said rule. DoubleAgentGirl @prp2 there are pictures in existence, pictures where the look on my face SAYS that rule.. LOL 
Safe Travels
Tonight Thing One needs to go to a funeral. It was a long process getting there.
This time last week, we recieved a phone call letting us know that Thing One's grandfather (who he lovingly called Uncle David) had passed away. He had been suffering with pancreatic cancer, recieving treatments that had seemed to be going well. Suddenly, the cancer (as it does) stealthily invaded his brain, and within 24 hours he was gone.
It's hard to explain to a 7 yr old how death works. He sobbed, he questioned. He worried about everything from the standard "Where did he go" to "What will happen to his things?". It's complicated, it's heartbreaking. It's loss. We sat together, Thing One, his Daddy, step-mom and I and talked about death, funerals, bereavement. We allowed Thing One to choose if he wanted to attend the funerals. After a few quiet days of thinking about it, he expressed his desire to go.
As a mother, this is hard. I can't be there with him, I have to turn over my grieving child to a family who in turn is grieving. It breaks my heart that I won't be holding his hand and wiping his tears. I also need to remember that this is his experience, not mine. I know he will be taken care of.
Over the last few days, Thing One has been covered in ink. His hands have blue streaks all over them, extending up to his elbows and across his left cheek. Sometimes, he cries blue tears. Finally, I have been allowed to view that which has occupied his free time and all available pens. Uncle David loved trains, he was an avid collector and the first to bestow that love unto my son. For Thing One, it's a symbol of love for a man since passed.
"Safe travels as an angel, Uncle David. Love Noah."
This time last week, we recieved a phone call letting us know that Thing One's grandfather (who he lovingly called Uncle David) had passed away. He had been suffering with pancreatic cancer, recieving treatments that had seemed to be going well. Suddenly, the cancer (as it does) stealthily invaded his brain, and within 24 hours he was gone.
It's hard to explain to a 7 yr old how death works. He sobbed, he questioned. He worried about everything from the standard "Where did he go" to "What will happen to his things?". It's complicated, it's heartbreaking. It's loss. We sat together, Thing One, his Daddy, step-mom and I and talked about death, funerals, bereavement. We allowed Thing One to choose if he wanted to attend the funerals. After a few quiet days of thinking about it, he expressed his desire to go.
As a mother, this is hard. I can't be there with him, I have to turn over my grieving child to a family who in turn is grieving. It breaks my heart that I won't be holding his hand and wiping his tears. I also need to remember that this is his experience, not mine. I know he will be taken care of.
Over the last few days, Thing One has been covered in ink. His hands have blue streaks all over them, extending up to his elbows and across his left cheek. Sometimes, he cries blue tears. Finally, I have been allowed to view that which has occupied his free time and all available pens. Uncle David loved trains, he was an avid collector and the first to bestow that love unto my son. For Thing One, it's a symbol of love for a man since passed.
"Safe travels as an angel, Uncle David. Love Noah."
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Fun with Jester on Talkshoe Live
Greetings from the underground. It's been awhile since I
Last night, in response to his call out on Twitter, I volunteered to be at the mercy of one Jestertunes. Being brand new to the blogosphere, I figured it couldn't crucify me JUST yet, and maybe, yes maybe, it could be shameless promotion for this Agent. It kinda went like this:
Jester : eloquent, astute, pointed and funny.
Agent: Canadian.
Jester: travel and politics and decapitation.
Agent: Stupid Canadian whose never been anywhere.
Jester: Knowledgeable, gossipy and forthcoming with important people to follow
Agent: Stupid Canadian whose never been anywhere and is inherently worried about how damaging that is when she isn't offering free maple syrup, Viagra or bacon...
End show. Hoser.
No, seriously, it was a lot of fun, and I thank Jester profusely for allowing me to incessantly bore those brave enough to stay with us for an hour and forty-five minutes. Also, for those of you who HAVE perused my blog since my Twitter appearance, I'm throwing you a question:
How in the hell can I make this blog
Friday, August 1, 2008
How does YOUR knee taste Mom?
It's official... I suck. This morning was one of those mornings...the ones where despite your best efforts, you can't seem to dislodge the running shoe from the toilet while brushing impossibly curly Thing Two's 6 year old hair, all the while helping to "inside-out" a shirt for 7 year old Thing One AND applying mascara, all in enough time to make it to work. It was also one of the mornings when I forgot that I had two ears and one mouth for a reason. Here's what went down:
Me (searching the kitchen for my keys): Noah. Get. Dressed.
Thing One (head down over a bucket of dinky cars): In a minute.
Me (digging in my purse, still looking for said keys): Not in a minute. Now. We're going to be late.
Thing One: grumble grumble mmmffffttt rrrr. I'm busy.
Me (Up to my elbows in purse shrapnel): NOAH. NOW.
Thing One: Look Mom!!! Look!!
Me (engulfed in a Mary Poppins carpet bag of epic proportions): mmm ggghttfft ssrrtttt!! (Loosely translated as: Noah. I am not going to tell you again. GET DRESSED NOW!!)
Thing One: FINE! FORGET IT! (commence stomping to bedroom).
Coming up from the purse of doom, keys in hand and TRIUMPHANT, I see this on the living room carpet:
I suck. Sorry Noah, Mommy's ears are broken.
Me (searching the kitchen for my keys): Noah. Get. Dressed.
Thing One (head down over a bucket of dinky cars): In a minute.
Me (digging in my purse, still looking for said keys): Not in a minute. Now. We're going to be late.
Thing One: grumble grumble mmmffffttt rrrr. I'm busy.
Me (Up to my elbows in purse shrapnel): NOAH. NOW.
Thing One: Look Mom!!! Look!!
Me (engulfed in a Mary Poppins carpet bag of epic proportions): mmm ggghttfft ssrrtttt!! (Loosely translated as: Noah. I am not going to tell you again. GET DRESSED NOW!!)
Thing One: FINE! FORGET IT! (commence stomping to bedroom).
Coming up from the purse of doom, keys in hand and TRIUMPHANT, I see this on the living room carpet:
I suck. Sorry Noah, Mommy's ears are broken.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)