Thursday, September 27, 2018

Kid free travel and accommodations. Check!


 I am ultra passionate about hotel suites with king beds.

I aspire to be wealthy so I can enjoy hotels even more than I do now. Comfy beds, marble bathrooms, world class views, room service. I go for the hotels that offer kidfree floors and are pet free.

The heritage house I stayed in this week is for adults only. 

I’m curled up in a king bed right now, in my hotel room with a view in one of my favourite places. I’ve been watching reruns of Sex and the City on Cosmo TV.

The 4 gals are lamenting about being 35+ and still single. No kids. 

I’m 35 and single and childfree. And I think it’s so great. So I want to throw a pillow at the TV because these characters are ridiculous. 

I’m a Miranda/Charlotte. 



I was up very late last night, working on my website. I had a plan for today that I rearranged once I woke up mid morning.  I made it downstairs to the new Italian restaurant attached to the hotel, just in time to get breakfast before the menu switched over. 

Bacon, eggs, potato rosti and arugula with sliced avocado. Oh and sourdough toast. Took me an hour to eat. 

Then I went back to my hotel room and wrote for a couple hours. I wasn’t happy with what was spewing from my fingers and so I walked around the town, window shopping and taking photos of whatever caught my attention.

Had to pick up some souvenirs for my nephews, of course. 

Back in March, I took my two nephews on a weekend getaway. So I shared a hotel room with two kids. As always, I gave warning—
“You pee on the seat, you clean it up!”

One of the many great things about being an aunt is that kids generally behave better than if I were their parent. But even then, one brother has to piss off the other so I had to break up a minor fight in the parking lot. 

The hotel was a hit. I had to forgo my usual suite with king bed because there wasn’t a sofa bed available. So I settled for a two queen room.  The 12 year old decided he wanted to sleep in the arm chair and ottoman. So the 8 year old chose his bed to jump on. 

No jumping on auntie’s bed because she likes everything neat and clean. 

Normally once I get into my room, I putter around and set up my stuff the way I want. 

Well now I had two kids who suddenly needed me to help them with everything. Tablets had to be set up with wifi. Bags had to be stored, snacks distributed, cartoon channel found, chargers unravelled and plugged in. 

Everybody good? OK. I’m going to unpack and wash my face. 



It was a lot of fun hanging out with them for the weekend. We explored West Ed mall, went swimming, played glow in the dark mini golf and had lazy evenings in the hotel room watching movies and silly cartoons. 

I enjoyed it. 

But as I sit on the king bed in an organized and clean room with a pee free toilet seat, I know my preference.

I travel solo on purpose. 

I’m wrapping up this road trip in a few days. I’ve been away longer than I’ve lived in the townhouse I moved into in May. 

 I will attempt to settle into a routine in the city and prepare to hibernate for winter. 

My nephews are scheduled to come visit me in a week’s time.  They probably like the fact that they get their own bathroom-but they still have to clean up the seat. 

Ha!


Sincerely,

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper 
Almost an Author 
Former Fantastic Violinist 













Wednesday, September 26, 2018

Sunshine, travel, and Bill Cosby



This morning as I was filling up at the gas station, an elderly gentlemen complimented my red sundress and smile. He told me I was “walking sunshine”. I thanked him and gave him a large, genuine, LeNora smile. I was touched.

Later, I chuckled to myself because I've been told I have two emotions. Happy or rage. I rage as hard as I happy. 

Today was beautiful. These photos are from today-or if you are reading this in the future, the day this was originally written. I drove a winding mountain highway that connects several lesser known villages. I've traveled this area many times over the last decade. I never get bored. 

I was 23, the first time I ventured from my little apartment on the prairies to visit the west coast. Google wasn't really Google yet and so I used MapQuest. Remember MapQuest?  No? Google it.

Ha!

So, anyway, it was summer-I would teach music 10 months out of the year and have the summers off. I decided I wanted to visit tourist areas and play my violin as a busker. Sometimes I'd get a permit, sometimes I could play without one. 

I got my directions, found an affordable place to stay near the one area of the city that I was familiar with- I had visited with  my parents as a kid. 

At that time, I was driving a 1996 Toyota Corolla. I didn't drive the route I drive these days. I'm not sure that little car could have made it up some of those mountain passes. 

The day of my trip arrived and I was so excited. It was a sunny, July morning-Saturday. I stopped at the bank to use the ATM. I finished my transactions and was obviously dawdling because the machine suddenly swallowed my debit card.  

What?!

Banks weren't open on Saturday back then. So I called the 1-800 number and the person on the other end informed me that for my own protection, the ATM ate my card because I didn't remove it right away and I would have to wait until Monday before I could be issued a new one. 

Oh what a way to begin my first road trip. Thank goodness for Visa.



I certainly didn't have the budget that I have now a days and so I was at the mercy of whatever motel was the cheapest. And gas station sandwiches. I stopped in a hamlet of sorts to stay at a motel aptly named Tumbleweed. 

The next day I continued and by then, I was convinced I was on the wrong highway because I hadn't seen the name of the city I was driving to.  I drove through an even smaller hamlet and noticed a waffle house. I threw my budget out the window and decided to have a proper breakfast. 

The doors were locked but I saw a guy run across the road from the gas station.

Turns out, he managed both gas station and Waffle House. He took my order, grilled my breakfast, read the paper while I ate and locked up and went back to the gas station after I was done.

I don’t recall any more interesting details about the drive, as it was 12 years ago, but I do remember when I finally arrived to the city.

I clutched my printout map with the hostel address and grew worried as each block got progressively worse in appearance.

Long story short, I had chosen the worst possible location in the city to stay in. The hostel was disgusting and I had paid for a week. 

I remember walking along the street to find a place that accepted credit cards so I could get something to eat. The streets were crowded and it eventually dawned on me that these were homeless people.

I never went out after 5pm again. 

I was tempted several times to cut my two week trip short and go home but I told myself to stick it out. I didn’t play my violin that week, I wandered around the city and dreamed of the days when I could afford to actually enjoy a place like this.

This is how naive I was-I had seen a sign next door to the hostel that said “Soup”. I thought it was a cafe. Once I looked inside, I realized it was a soup kitchen. 

A week later, I was in a much nicer setting, thanks to a friend and have enjoyed many years of vacations and career highlights in that area. So that experience was worth it. 


Lastly, my thoughts on Bill Cosby.

The first time I ever remember seeing Bill Cosby  was on TV in the movie Ghost Dad. I was raised without television so I never watched the Cosby show. 

I was sitting on the floor of my grandparent’s living room, along with my brother. We laughed and laughed. Bill Cosby was hilarious. 

He also was the same skin color as my dad. Somewhere in my young mind, that was significant because I did not know many black people, aside from my dad and my grandma. 

My mother was white and I saw her family more than I saw my father’s family. My parents did not discuss race. 

Anyway, like most people, I feel disappointed. Because I thought he was so funny. But his behaviour and mindset are not right. It’s sad to me. 

Being an aunt to two young nephews, I see the responsibility to help guide them to being decent human beings.  

We all have dark sides and dark desires, that’s being human. When you get some power, it’s easier to express those desires. Especially for men.

Cosby is learning a lesson that he will never understand because he is from a different generation where men could and have gotten away with so much bad behaviour. Bad behaviour that has existed since time began.

He is getting what he deserves.  He had such a talent and such a legacy but this side of him makes it impossible to now enjoy his humour. 

And as someone to look up to in the black community, well that is a huge blow too.

It wasn’t about putting him on a pedestal, for me, it was about seeing someone who looked like my dad. I could say “OK, cool”. I didn’t see that very often.

My dad knows about my blog but doesn’t read it so I think it’s safe to also say that the other person who resembles my dad (in looks) is 

OJ Simpson.

Dammit.

Haha. 

Have a lovely day,

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper 
Almost an Author
Former Fantastic Violinist 

As always, feel free to share this post, tell a friend, follow us on Facebook 
The Bitchy Bookkeeper




Monday, September 24, 2018

Vague results for vague dreamers



It's very easy to say a vague dream out loud. To say " I want to be....."

I want to be an established writer by the time I am 40 years old. 

"Ok, so what does that mean, LeNora? " 


I am currently staying in a stunningly beautiful village surrounded by mountains and lakes and historic buildings. I'm spending my days driving and taking photos. I'm writing, I'm eating locally sourced food, I'm basking in my ultimate alone time. 

All with the feeling of slight discontentment.  

I don't have anything to preoccupy me. No illness, no demanding offspring with busy schedules or needs. No spouse to nag, no work schedule.

Just my ambition, to be a famous writer of some sort. As I said to a friend recently- I'm not living the dream, I'm working on a dream so that I can live the dream. 

What exactly is the dream, for me?   Last night, I sat in my adorable Victorian style decorated suite with it's chandelier lighting and mountain views. I contemplated my situation.  I road trip and write in pretty surroundings. It's awesome for me but not the dream.

I have enough money to pay my bills while I am developing my writing voice. I've had many months to travel and figure out how I'd like to spend the next few years.  Hopefully, I get to hibernate in my lovely townhouse in the city during the winter this year. Damn Canadian winters.


I've had the experience of being a "starving artist" in my 20's and never want to do that again. I don't believe I need to suffer for my art. I am artistic but can function very well in the real world. 

And so I cannot go around saying " I want to be an...."

I prefer to go around showing. Actions speak louder than words.


The dream

To maintain my independence. I chose the childfree lifestyle, I don't play Russian Roulette with birth control or sexual partners. I control what I can control. I handle my money carefully, enjoying it but keeping an eye on the decades of spending to come. 

The dream

To explore all of my opportunities to create written work that matters to some people. This includes all of the reading and researching and late nights of writing and networking and submitting and self publishing and marketing and writing for free and writing for pay and the thousands of little things I'm learning to do. 

The dream
To enjoy my day to day life. Whether I'm writing, working a 10-3 job, hanging with my friends or family, shopping or at a movie, road tripping, sleeping in or composing music.  I'm not interested in running a chaotic household, therefore I don't. Some days, Netflix and my couch is all I want.  

The dream
10 years from now, I look back at my writing and go 'OK, cool. I did that. Now I'm doing this.... (insert future activity)



                                       Look, a squirrel.   

There is also the anti dream.  It is equally important to state what I don't want. 

Anti dream
Debt. Had it, don't miss it. If it comes down to a designer purse or paying my rent.. I pay my rent. Travelling is fun and important but having money for the future is also important. 

Anti dream
Doing something that society says will enhance my life beyond all measure and discovering that it's a lie and not for me and suddenly I am morally and legally responsible for the next 18 years.  Again, I don't play Russian Roulette. And if something should happen, Canada is a great country for being pro choice.

Anti dream
To not use my voice for what matters to me. To give up when it's hard or when I don't feel like continuing. Just when I think it doesn't matter, something happens to show me otherwise. 

Anti dream
To have so many commitments and responsibilities and ailments plaguing me that I have plenty of excuses why I cannot fulfill my true dreams. 

I know enough people who say they want to do things but have plenty of valid excuses why they don't. I know enough people who say they  have exactly what they want-but had no clue the amount of responsibility and are now trying to keep their heads above water, so to speak. 

I accomplished my dream of being a music teacher. And then I wanted to move on. Fortunately, I wasn't responsible for my students for 18 years. 

Independence. Is a wonderful thing. As is clarity. When I know what I want and why I want it, I make more appropriate choices. When I feel overwhelmed with marketing my writing or even working on an article, I reread my desired end result. Then an idea comes, and it leads to a more clear path. 

So if you want something, quit being vague about it. Figure out what it is that you want and why you want it, then go do the work to get it. 

And once you get it, enjoy it or not. Sometimes it's not as good as you thought it would be, sometimes it's better.  

As long as it's truly what you want. 

Have a lovely day, 


Sincerely, 

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper
Almost an Author
Former Fantastic Violinist

as always, share, tell a friend, follow the Bitchy Bookkeeper Facebook page
















Friday, September 21, 2018

Enjoying the Process.


Oh who am I kidding, I have not overcome my addiction to achieving great thingsHowever, I am able to enjoy the process as I work towards new goals. 

The real, hard truth about what I want to achieve, is that it is going to take years. It's going to take 10 more months of posting 5 days a week on this blog.

Plus, another 5 articles a week on Medium.com-a site I'm writing on- for another year in order to make enough money to pay for half of my monthly expenses. 

Assuming I keep my lifestyle the same. 

It's going to take 4 more years of developing my writing skills before my name is one that is considered when putting together a panel of writers and speakers for writer's conventions, women's conventions and other forums I don't know exist yet. 

That's if I write consistently for 4 years straight and have readers who like my work. 

My goal is to be established financially and professionally as a writer, by the age of 40.  Which is in just over 4 years time. 


That is a lot of words. 



I'm naturally chatty so instead of talking, I write out all the things I wish to say.  It's all a big experiment, really. Life is a big experiment. It's just that sometimes you experiment with things that lead to long term consequences and responsibilities.

Wink wink.

I'm going to insert a pet peeve of mine-talking about all the plans you have without any follow through. 

Or in other words... 

"One day, I'm going to do this.. and this.. and this.. and go here and here and here and here and..."


I write down all of my ideas and plans in my journals. Then I read them back to myself and some of them feel right. Some of them don't feel right, right now, but perhaps in the future. But I don't say them aloud to anyone.

It's more fun and productive, in my opinion, just to go do something and tell the world about it as you're doing it or after you've done it. 

Telling people, even your friends, your plans and dreams come with some accountability. If you don't follow through, after a while it's like crying wolf. 

People will nod and smile and think " Oh ya, well good for you. You probably won't do it but good for you."

I didn't tell anyone I was going to blog. I just started blogging and if you look at my list, you can see that I've been consistent and followed through. 

Can I tell you something?

Writing is the easy part. It's the business around it that is a bit overwhelming. There is so much advice, so many things to learn when it comes to the world wide web and if you want to get serious, networking and contributing to your network as you build it. 

I'm constantly reading other people's writing, studying their business model, reading advice both good and bad.

I have to take everything I learn and figure out which advice sits well with me and which advice I can trash. 

It's not about how many people "Follow" me, its how many are actively reading, engaging and sharing their experiences with me or sharing my work. 

Anyone can start a blog. Most people don't follow through with it for very long. I saw this when I was a music teacher. I would only accept 2 adult students a year because most of the time, life's demands overcame their desire to learn how to play the violin. 

I worked for years to build my teaching practice. I studied music for decades. It was hard, but I enjoyed it. And then I stopped enjoying it. I had a schedule that was awesome but I didn't know how to create a home for myself and space for myself to pursue other interests. I didn't even know I had other interests. 

I find myself in a position where I can spend my time building a body of written work that will hopefully find a loyal audience. 

If in 4 years I'm completely out of money and am working at another 50 hour a week job because the writing thing didn't work out, so be it.  I will continue to write until such time. 

Or maybe this time next year, I'm standing on stage, giving a motivational talk about how not having children was the best idea I ever had.

Ha!


Have a lovely day.

Sincerely, 

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper
Almost an Author
Former Fantastic Violinist

lenorafaye.com









Thursday, September 20, 2018

Matthew Mark Luke and John



I’m not a photographer but these iPhones 
Make it fun to capture a moment
I have thousands of photos 
From my random travels

Photos are a great way to break up blog content
I like scenic shots
 I rarely take selfies
I’d never get anything done if I did

The best moments are not captured
Breathing in crisp, clean mountain air
Soaking in the hot springs
Neck deep in mineral water

Driving along winding roads
The setting sun casting a golden light
After a creative day
New ideas forming

When you begin a new venture
With a goal in mind
Don’t get down when 
It shifts directions

I accidentally changed alignment settings
And this post has turned into 
A weird looking poem
That has no rhythm 

But I like it, so I’m keeping it
Writing is a daily practice 
I’ve formed a habit
I like spending my days doing what I enjoy 

Luckily what I like to do is legal 
I suppose not everyone should follow their bliss 
Speaking of bliss
What's with the title?


My fingers are talking
Pieces of my past show up 
Inserting themselves into my writing
Funny how that happens. 

Embrace the silly. 


Sincerely, 

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper
Almost an Author
Former Fantastic Violinist 

lenorafaye.com









Wednesday, September 19, 2018

Choosing My Path





Sometimes you don't want to relive painful personal memories. It doesn't have to be traumatic in a newsworthy sense. It can be a personal failure that is a source of embarrassment to you. No one may remember it, but your lovely mind goes

"Hey! Remember that time you did this.. and you made a complete fool of yourself? Remember that? Huh? Huh? Bet you feel like a loser."

A decade ago, I was smack in the middle of nothing. I was shedding my musical identity, shedding my religion, shedding my debt, shedding my entire life. 

I just didn't know it was happening. 

I was trying something new, I wanted to create a different life. But I was trying to create a different life by doing the same things I had been doing every day for the last 10 years. 

Just in a different location. 



I am a creature of habit. I will happily try different restaurants but order the same thing. Ham and pineapple pizza, or pancakes with strawberries. If it's Vietnamese food, it's always grilled lemongrass beef on vermicelli noddles. 

It took very deliberate action to learn how to keep a clean house, how to save money, how to spend money in a meaningful way. 

It takes very deliberate action to design my own path. 

I used to look at other people and go " ok, they are doing this and this and this and seem happy". And then I dig a bit deeper and find out that they aren't living the life they wanted at all. They are just making the situation work for them. 

Argh. 





Crap happens and adjustments have to be made. And as I dig deeper into my own life, I realize that 10 years ago, I clearly didn't want to continue to live the life I had. 

I had my dream career, I was an upstanding member of my religious organization. I was also in debt and bored with living for an afterlife I didn't necessarily believe in. 

So I had to stop the train and get off and head in a different direction. 

One that maybe looked odd..

No kids
No spouse
No credit card debt/student loan debt/$574,000 mortgage debt 
No pets
No potential future grandkids
No 50th anniversary

"LeNora! What kind of life are you living??"



Here is a hard lesson that I would have to tell my 13-year-old self. 

Your life is not going to be what you think it's going to be.  Because you chose something different. And it led you to discover something different. Different is the keyword. 

And sometimes it sucks because... well... does it suck? I want to give an example of how it sucks, trying to be vulnerable here. 

It's rare for me to have a conversation with someone my age, women my age, because most of them are raising children, or married or desperately seeking to be. 

Most of my face to face conversations are with older men and women who have been there done that and are willing to speak openly and honestly about their life choices. But as I'm in my 30's, I cannot yet relate to their level aside from having the freedom to do what I want. 

Therefore, I am so comfortable being alone because I like my own company and I relate well to myself and I have excellent conversations with me.

So, today's lesson, boys and girls, is 

Don't be in a rush. YOU is always changing. (Yes, I mean to say "is".)

But know what you DON'T want and WHY you don't want it. 

That really helps your future self. 



Have a lovely day, 

Sincerely, 

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper
Almost an Author
Former Fantastic Violinist

lenorafaye.com

Tuesday, September 18, 2018

Revelations


From birth I was told
To deny my self
No pleasure was worth 
An eternity of Hell

All around I saw
Sacrifice and tears
The reward to come later
Be a sheep or a lamb

I tried to follow
Put my glitter aside
Call out to a God
His will be done

They pray for disease
To test their faith
I prayed for courage
To discover the truth 



One day I woke up
And looked around 
No one was smiling
No one was alive

I cannot wait 
For a second coming
When the first coming 
Has never occurred 

I had a revelation
My life is my choice
I can cower in fear
Or just paint my nails 



I give thanks all the time
Not just at meals
Sunday mornings are peaceful 
As I sleep in my bed

I profess to be useful
Out in the world 
I am the creator
Of my own destiny 

Let me tell you the story 
I will write every word
I’m not longing for comfort 
I don’t wander the desert 

My days are not weary
I reap what I sow
So I plant sparkly dreams 
And onward rejoicing I go




Sincerely,

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper 
Almost an Author 
Former Fantastic Violinist 













Monday, September 17, 2018

LeNora’s Money Proverbs




Just a few money lessons I’ve learned from experience over the years....






























How can I compete with that face?


Have a lovely day.

Sincerely, 

LeNora Faye 
Bitchy Bookkeeper 
Almost an Author 
Former Fantastic Violinist 


Friday, September 14, 2018

Desperate Desires From the Past



In first grade, we had to write down our future desired career. I wrote nurse.

I guess every girl wrote nurse because I had to change mine. So I wrote baker because then I could make donuts.

Flash forward to 5th-grade health class- learning about veins and blood and I’m feeling dizzy as fuck. 

In that moment, I decided that a career in medicine was not for me.

Grade 6- my music abilities are developing nicely. So I decide  I want to be a music teacher. 

10th grade- I become a student teacher to 20 kids learning how to play the violin.

11th grade-I start attending an alternative high school because I’m now teaching full time and continuing my music studies. 

Age 26-after 10 years of teaching and performing, I realize I don’t want to do this anymore.

I’m on an impromptu road trip. The weather back home was miserable and everyone is busy and I’m free to do what I want so I just repacked my suitcase and headed out after a week at my place.

So, I’m driving through mountainous national parks and it’s both rainy and sunny and I’m listening to all sorts of motivational podcasts. 

Oprah, Marie Forleo, Seth Godin. I love insights from people who are living the way I aspire to live. Famous or not.

An idea was presented from one of these podcasts- 

Everything I have now is a gift from my former self. Do I still want that gift?

I spent 20 years playing the piano and violin and learning music theory. I had a 10-year teaching career that I loved. I couldn’t imagine not doing that, until the moment I realized I didn’t want to. 

I struggled for a few years after I quit teaching and performing. I felt bad for not playing. But I have come to understand that I have no obligation to music. I enjoyed it and I am allowed to have other dreams and passions.

I am fully immersed in writing. This is all I do. The style varies for social media and other publications aside from this blog. I’m working on two novels as well. 

5 years from now, I may look at all of this work and where it has taken me and go,

“Ok, I’ve accomplished this goal, time to explore movie score composing.”

I won’t be living in the same house I live in now. I will be looking to upgrade my current vehicle, which I purchased new 6 months ago.

The life I create now is paving the way for a new life. 

The things I so desperately wanted when I was younger,  I don’t care about now. 

Fortunately, I didn’t want anything that leads to permanent effects. Like a tattoo or kids.

But even a tattoo, you can remove or alter. 

There are legal ramifications for removing or altering children.  

I think puppies and kittens and kids are cute. But I love being able to pack up and go and stay anywhere.  I don’t want to plan my life around a school schedule. 

I also don’t want to risk my health by creating a human that has a chance of being unhealthy or unable to function at full capacity. I am not a caregiver. 

I have seen what happens to individuals who have life long responsibilities caring for differently abled offspring. Children may be healthy but accidents happen. 

I know it’s so easy to get caught up in an idea, especially when you see other people having so much fun but there is always reality. Sometimes reality is better than expected. Sometimes it really sucks.

10 years ago, I went after a dream, which didn’t turn out the way I hoped. But it led to adventures that in turn have led me to now, which is the life I originally hoped for myself and even greater flexibility.

I’m not doing what it is that I thought I would be doing 10 years ago, but how I feel inside is exactly what I hoped for.

I’m on a small mountain right now. Literally and figuratively. I’m surrounded by much higher mountains, ones that I want to climb. I love the mountain I’m on, it's great with a lovely view. But I have more to do. 

I’m not wistfully wishing I were on the next mountain. I’m thinking

 ‘I’ve made it this far, this is amazing. Take a moment, and enjoy climbing the next one. It’s going to take a while but there are lovely stops along the way. You have comfortable shelter when things get tough.”

Speaking of shelter, it just began to rain. 

Have a lovely day.


Sincerely,

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper 
Almost an Author
Former Fantastic Violinist 

Thursday, September 13, 2018

My Momma Inspired Me Not to Procreate




The mother/daughter relationship is not one that I envy. I had a mother who, by all accounts, was a good mom.

I didn't get along with her for the first 17 years of my life but she was a good mom. 

We were just two very different people and we didn't understand each other. Nothing unique about this story. 

My mother and father wanted a family. They created both of their babies on purpose.

Their first baby was me. And I was adorable.


But the personality and character traits that I inherited and would develop-were most likely not what they had in mind when they said they wanted children.

Words to describe my parent’s chosen lifestyle

Humble.

Plain.

Quiet.

Devout.

I am none of those things. Not by nature. I have the ability when the occasion calls for such manners. 

I am curious and boisterous and sparkly and agnostic. 

And I battled my parents for what I believed in. 

Of course, the standard adult response is 

“Oh just you wait, one day you will be a parent and everything you did to your parents, your kids will do to you.”

Clearly, that threat doesn’t work because we still act up and most of society still wants to have children. 

Or at least, unprotected sex.

For all the cute baby photos I see, I know there will be a lot fewer posts by those parents during the teen phase. 

That is when I want people to post on social media. When their children are acting out. 

That is far more entertaining. 

While I was battling my mother for 17 years, I was also watching as though I were outside my body. 

My mother actually wanted to be a mom. She drove us to music lessons and swimming lessons and countless other activities. She cooked our meals and worked on school projects. She taught me how to bake.

But I couldn’t wait to grow up and do what it was that I came to do in this life. 

I didn’t want to grow up and be a mom. 

I don’t know if my mother had any other aspirations. It’s quite possible that her purpose was to birth and raise two kids.

She died one week after my brother turned 19.



 Nearly 14 years have passed and I am living my life and watching a lot of my peers raise families. They are in the throes of parenthood-the good, the bad and the expensive. 

I am at an age of perspective-I am not young enough to feign ignorance and I’m not old enough to regret.

I’ve spent 35 years getting to know myself and so I am pretty confident in the choices I make. 

I recognize the value of being a friend to children. An ally to future adults. 

I choose not to take on the daily responsibility of raising children. I do not want to give up my freedom for fear of dying alone or having no one to look after me when I am old. 

That is not a burden I’d want my parents to put on me. I’m not the caregiver type anyway.

I am the fun aunt type. 

My nephews and their friends will come to visit their eccentric 90-year-old aunt in her mountain chalet.

The only thing I can remember my mother saying to me about having babies was that my boobs would get really big during pregnancy. 

And if you know me, that’s an area I don’t need any help in.

Ha!


Sincerely 

LeNora Faye
Bitchy Bookkeeper 
Almost an Author 
Former Fantastic Violinist