Tarable

When it rains...

2012-01-27T08:54:00.000-08:00

It has been rainy and dark here for a long time. I have been saying for a while that I don’t mind the rain. Compared to where I grew up, in Northern BC, where the cold, snowy winters can last from October to April, the rain seemed so inconsequential. But I’ve been living in Southern BC for several years now, the memories of those long, cold winters have faded from memory and I am feeling very affected by the darkness and rain of Vancouver winters.

I took this past Tuesday off work. I had to take Lincoln for his 18month immunization in the morning and was originally going to come into work afterwards but really, who wants to come into work at 11am after being off all morning? Not me. So I decided to use a vacation day and have the whole day off. Unfortunately it stayed dark and gloomy, like dusk, all day – and my mood matched the weather, as it has for a few weeks now. I tried to make the best of it by hitting the gym but I had no heart for it. I managed a very short run on the treadmill before throwing in the towel. All I wanted to do was sit on the couch and read, which I managed to do for about 45 minutes.

Wednesday wasn’t much better. Cold, dark and rainy. And when arriving home after picking the kids up from daycare I discovered Lincoln was having a reaction from his immunization. He was swollen grotesquely and red/purple from his arm, up to his neck and across his chest. He was sporting one breast that was about a “C” cup. I made the mistake of posting a picture of it on Facebook to see if anyone else had had seen this sort of reaction and the place blew up. People freaked about it which made me regret posting the picture and I eventually took it down. Since it didn’t seem to be bothering him too much and he didn’t have a fever, I was of the school that we keep an eye on him at home and treat with Tylenol. I spoke with three different nurses and determined I was doing the right thing. Still, it was just another thing to jam into my mind to worry about. (The swelling has since gone down considerably and he is now only an “A” cup).

I’m really ready for things to smooth out. Or do they ever smooth out when you have a young family? Is this just how life is going to be for me now? Riding wave after wave after wave of illness, injury and issues? I keep thinking I’m relieved to have made it through X, Y, or Z but then just when I start to feel comfortable again, something else happens.

I find it really hard to find time for self care. I live in a bee’s nest of craziness, trying to balance work, life, kids, marriage, home, fitness, etc. Every time I do something for myself I can’t help but feel guilt. Guilt for spending the money on a new book or pedicure when I should be paying bills. Guilt for taking a vacation day at work when I could be gaining ground on an ongoing project. Guilt for leaving the kids in daycare on a day that I am at home. Guilt for going for a run and leaving Steve alone with the kids when they are being demons. Guilt for having a beer on a Friday afternoon when I should be using that time to exercise. Guilt for missing a planned trip to the gym when I’m just too fucking tired.

Yesterday the sun shone for the first time since I can remember. I could not believe how great it made me feel. I came home from work, strapped on my runners and headed out for a 5km. During my run, I got a text from Steve saying “run past the beer store”, which meant that he was having a hard time with the kids. When I got home he was frustrated and struggling as they had been maniacs while I was gone (for 35 minutes). And all that great feeling that came from my running in the fresh air and daylight got stuffed down as I jumped in trying to calm things down, get people in the bath, make dinner, clean up, etc.

It’s been a rough go the past few months, one thing after another. I know there’s got to be a light at the end of the dark tunnel. Spring will come. The sun will shine more regularly again. The kids will not be sick every other week. The time between catastrophes will hopefully start stretching out a little longer.

In the meantime, I’ll swirl around in the rain, and keep trying to find the elusive life balance. What else can I do but to keep trudging forward and hoping for a little sunshine and good luck to come my way.

Loonie Bandits

2012-01-22T14:28:00.001-08:00

Ever been at the end of your grocery shopping trip, when you're unloading your bags from your shopping cart into your vehicle and someone comes along and asks if they can buy your cart from you? This used to be a half assed nice thing for people to do because then you didn't have to walk your empty cart "all the way" back to where the carts are housed to retrieve the quarter or *loonie that you put into the handle of the cart to free it from the chain gang it's attached to.

When I have the inner strength to withstand the horrid place, I will shop at Superstore. This is the place where you have to put up with incredibly rude and stupid people who travel in packs and like to stand in the middle of an isle like they are the only people in the store, while their children run around like screeching wildebeests, bumping into me while I try stifle my increasing frustration. I then stand in a long line-up while people in front of me argue with the clerk about the price of box of frozen pizza pops. In the end I have to bag my own groceries while people push around me.

I'm always happy when that chore is over.

So when someone approaches me and offers a dollar for my cart my initial reaction is to be thankful that I have one less step before I can hop in my van and jam on the accelerator to get the hell out of Dodge.

But I have had two recent instances where I was asked if someone could give me a dollar for my cart, I said yes, and then when I was done unloading my groceries, they dump a hand full of silver into my hand and then make off with my cart - and my loonie.

The first time it happened I felt violated. Silly, I know, but I felt cheated and I was ticked off. Steve reminded me that I still had a dollar, no matter how it was made up. And I told myself that in the big picture, this was really not a big deal.

Today when I was walking to my van I was approached again by someone offering me a dollar for my cart. I said, ok. She then stood and watched me hump my loads of groceries into the back of the van in the blowing wind and rain. I was temped to tell her to feel free to pitch in, if she wanted the cart faster. And then I thought it strange that she would just stand there and wait for me to unload the cart instead of just walking to get her own cart. It was when she dumped a handful of fucking dimes into my hand that I realized why.

I know, I know, it shouldn't be a big deal to me. But it is and I'm not going to stifle my anger towards these loonie bandits any longer.

Did these people not know they were going grocery shopping where the carts require a loonie? Plan ahead, Fuckfaces! Get a loonie before you come! Raid your kids piggy bank like I did! And if it WAS a spur of the moment choice to shop where the carts require a loonie, get your lazy fucking ass into the store and change your handful of dimes in - like *I* do when I don't have a loonie. Be responsible for your own loonie needs! Don't go all sneaking around the parking lot, casing the joint for a poor unsuspecting person with a cart, pretending you're doing them a favour because in reality you are a sneaky, lazy, unprepared asshole!

Yes, a dollar is a dollar is a dollar - but now my loonie is gone and the next time I need one, I will have to go out of my way to find one because someone else didn't bother!

And that? Pisses me off!

This post has been brought to you by my "Just Be Mad Sometimes" campaign, where I let out my anger instead of trying to stifle it with the Sister Mary Sunshine bullshit.

*To my American readers - as you probably know, our dollars are coins named Loonies (which is actually embarrassing) for the picture of a loon on one side.

R.I.P. Quincy

2012-01-21T10:49:00.001-08:00

We lost a sweet little soul on Wednesday night. Our dear Quincy passed on suddenly and with no warning.

Quincy was Steve and I's first co-responsibility. She was our first baby, as some would say. We had lots of fun with Quincy over the years and loved her huge. She was a spunky and sometimes (ok, often) bratty little devil with a load of sassy personality. She was full of energy right up to the end.

When Ruby came along, Quincy was very unimpressed. She preferred to be a one dog show, with no competition for attention. After a close call with another child, we knew we had to find a solution. Steve's mom and dad had always adored Quincy and they happily "adopted" her. Quincy was very happy and content with Steve's parents and when Steve's dad passed, she was a constant and loving companion to Steve's mom.

I'm very thankful to Steve's mom for providing her with the quality of life over her last years that she wanted and deserved.

Our whole family loved Quincy and we're all heartbroken that she's gone. She will be dearly missed.

July 2001 - January 2012

Gym

2012-01-17T11:15:00.004-08:00

Ok I think maybe I need a reliable outlet for releasing some of the negative feelings I've got going on right now. I panic with the bad weather because that means that my one steady source for staying active and keeping my mental health in check is put at the mercy of the ice and snow.

On Friday I had the best run I've had in 2012. I felt steady and strong and I kept a good pace right to the end of the 5 kilometer route. I was proud of myself and felt a very satisfying fatigue at the end of the day.

The very next day it snowed and stuck. I swiped my running routine for shoveling snow a couple of times since Friday but it's not the same. Not even close.

I have considered buying a pair of ice cleats, namely Yaktrax, but I am not sure I would feel very sure-footed in them. The conditions of my 5km sidewalk route varies between snowy, icy, compact and bare. And I can't seem to find a pair of ice cleats that would be great for all of those conditions. I know I would be looking down all the time, seeing what I'm running on, worried about slipping - especially since there are a few incline/declines. I do not want to risk falling and having an injury. I can not take any more health issues inside my house, and especially one that would prevent me from exercising for any period of time, or making my regular routine any more challenging than it already is on a day to day basis.

What I'm looking at right now (re)joining a gym.

Months back I terminated my gym membership at Fitness World as they were not serving my needs for the amount I was paying monthly. And for the past few months I've been ok with just running outside. But I do need a backup plan for these times when the elements don't allow for outdoor exercise. It would also be nice to have access to different pieces of equipment to add in a bit of variety to my workout for when I'm craving something different. I know adding weights into my routine would definitely be a benefit.

I found a gym that is local and inexpensive. During a tour I found them to be less professional and maybe not quite as serious as Fitness World but I suppose that goes along with the lower fees and also that it's a ladies only gym. I am fairly fitness savvy and self sufficient so I would need minimal to zero assitance from any of the gym employees. What matters most is that they have all the equiment I need to take care of my own buisness. The weekend hours are also a bit dodgy but I think I can work around that.

Time to go take my anger/frustration/depression out on a treadmill or elliptical trainer and maybe push some weight while I'm at it.
Getting a little time alone at the gym should feel pretty good too I would imagine.

Just thinking about it gives me a little lift.

Just Be Mad Sometimes

2012-01-16T15:05:00.002-08:00

As you can probably pick up from the things I write, I generally try to keep a positive attitude about life in general. A lot of shitty things happen but it is my belief that things happen for a reason and the tough times are not forever, we just have to get through them the best we can. No point in being miserable about it, this is life. This is how life is. Positivity breeds positivity. We have a large hand in our own fate. We make our lives what they are. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger. All that.

I used to be mad a lot. Lost my temper a lot. I carried around a lot of anger and resentment and bitterness. In fact when I go way back in this blog and read the things I wrote years ago, I feel ashamed and embarrassed of myself for how I used to think and act. I know I felt wronged by a lot of people and situations. I have worked hard to change that about myself, for the good. I want to be a good person. I want to be happy so I am.

I realized the other day when I spent all day busting my hypothetical balls at work and then spent the entire evening at Children's Hospital with Lincoln who was diagnosed with fairly severe Hand, Foot and Mouth disease PLUS an ear infection that I felt a little resentment and anger coming on – not at Lincoln by any means, but just at the world in general. I brushed it away, knowing that it’s silly to be mad for things you can’t control. Kids get sick, we as parents should be well aware of that and it’s to be expected. Deal with it.

Since then my husband has contracted the disease which is extremely rare for adults. His hands look like this:

I feel just terrible for him. He’s in so much pain and discomfort. He is pretty much unable to care for the children now, because he can’t close his hands. The blisters rose on his feet last night so now it’s painful for him to so much as walk.

Because everyone was so sick I had to take a couple days off last week. I got in to work this morning to a mountain of paperwork to catch up on and a bunch of emails from people wanting, wanting, wanting. I know I’m lucky to have a job and to have the flexibility of being able to be away when my kids are sick. I reminded myself that I will get through the paperwork. No need to get frantic or upset about it. One foot in front of the other. One email at a time, I’ll catch up.

It snowed all weekend. Makes it hard to get around, plus it pretty much brings my running routine to a halt - just when it was getting good again. I'm trying to find solutions around this. Maybe now is the time to rejoin a gym ($$$) or buy some special cleats for my runners so I can run on the icy and snow covered sidewalk ($$). I'll figure something out - maybe I should just do jumping jacks for an hour in my carport.

Then my brother called to tell me he’s thinking of taking a job in Alberta. He would be moving away at the beginning of next month. It’s a great paying job but is so far away from us. My kids would never see him anymore and they won’t know who he is when they do. Not to mention that I just don’t think he should go away, I think he’s finally got some good things going for him and I’d like to see him ground himself a bit. But I like to think that he will make the right decision for himself. If it is right for him to move away for a better paying job and it will benefit him, far be it for me to be selfish and want him to stay.

Ok you know what? Enough of this Sister Mary Fucking Sunshine bullshit. I am realizing that it’s not healthy for me to try to stifle my feelings all the time.

So I cried my eyes out in my office when I heard my brother might move. And it opened something up, some anger came up from the abyss and instead of trying to find a way to think positively I am just going to let it be. I am angry. At everyone and no one. I’m pissed at the world. I’m tired and frustrated and just plain fucking mad right now.

And I’m just going to let myself be mad until it burns out.

Fuck. It.

First Rule

2012-01-10T15:18:00.002-08:00

The first rule with Kids Sleeping Through The Night?

DON'T TALK ABOUT KIDS SLEEPING THROUGH THE NIGHT!!!

Don't say it out loud to your friends. Don't facebook it, don't tweet it, BBM it, text it, or for the love of God don't BLOG about it.

I know the rule. I know it well. Yet, I ever so foolishly broke that rule and mentioned successful sleep in my previous post.

The very next night, Lincoln got sick(er) and sleeping through the night came to a slamming-into-a-brick-wall halt!. For your reference, this is what a kid with a fever of 104 degrees looks like:

Pathetic, isn't it? Well we got the fever down a bit and have been managing it with Tylenol for a couple of days. So he's been up through the night numerous times for the past two nights, restless as hell and cranky as a bear. Also... if I hear Ruby yell from her room "I need a drink of waaaaaaater!!!!" four times between the hours of midnight and 4am I'm going to.... uhhh... well, I'm going to get up and get her water because if I don't she's going to keep yelling for it and I will never get any rest. I just hope her stuffed nose goes away soon so she can get back to sleeping with her mouth closed.

I am thinking that hopefully they both MAY be finally getting through the sickness now - but the first rule of Kids Feeling Better is that you DON'T TALK ABOUT KIDS FEELING BETTER!!!.

Saturday Stir-Fry

2012-01-08T09:39:00.000-08:00

We had a rare, "relaxing" Saturday yesterday. And by relaxing, I mean that Ruby was sick and layed on the couch most of the day and Lincoln was content to play on his own and only assault her occasionally. The Canucks game was on at 10am and Steve was glued to it, yelling at the refs and random Boston Bruins players all morning.

I got out first thing and went for a run. I've been running all week but yesterday morning was the first time I've felt like I am starting to regain some of the momentum and endurance that I lost during my 3 week hiatus from my running shoes. Since we really had no plans for the day, I was able to take my time in the shower and then put on some sweats and make a post workout smoothie which totally hit the spot. And afterwards I puttered around the house, catching some of the game and tidying up my house.

Considering my extra small kitchen and my kids gravitational pull to it whenever I set foot in it, I usually opt for the simpler, easier to prepare and clean up after meals. But yesterday I was feeling good and on top of things and I wanted to make something different for dinner. I even found some time to flip through my recipe books to find something good. (Will the wonders never cease?)

I came across a recipe that I made back in the days when I had the luxury of time and space and had no little people or neck breaking toys loitering in my kitchen, and remember how delicious it was, I decided I'd make it - with some modifications to lower the point for Weight Watchers purposes.

The recipe required quite a bit of prep work which I did all before I even turned on the stove. Having everything cut up, shredded, stirred, weighed and measured ahead of time was time consuming but it made the actual cooking of the dish so quick and easy.

The final result was an absolutely delicious dinner. Some different flavours and tastes which I very much enjoyed. As did Steve, who went back for ~~thirds~~ seconds and may or may not have been up in the middle of the night sneaking leftovers...

Below is the recipe for "Shrimp and Pork Noodles" exactly as it is listed in the Company's Coming Most Love Stir Frys - and my modifications are listed below the recipe with Weight Watchers points.

SHRIMP AND PORK NOODLES
7oz (200g) Fresh, thin Chinese-style egg noodles
1 1/2 tsp cooking oil

2 tbsp Soy sauce
2 tsp Cornstarch
2 tbsp Hoisin sauce
2 tbsp Liquid honey
2 tbsp Dry Sherry
2 tbsp Water
1/2 1 tsp Chili Paste (sambal oelek)

2 tsp cooking oil
3/4 lb frozen, uncooked medium shrimp (peeled and deveined), thawed

1 tbsp cooking oil
1 Med onion, halved an cut into 12 wedges
1 cup chopped red pepper
2 garlic cloves, minced (or 1/2 tsp powder)
1 tsp finely grated ginger root (or 1/4 tsp powder)

3/4 lb lean ground pork

2 cups thinly sliced cabbage

Put noodles into large heatproof bowl. Cover with boiling water. Let stand for about 5mins until softened. Drain.

Add first amount of cooking oil. Toss. Cover to keep warm.

Stir soy sauce into cornstarch in small bowl. Add next 5 ingredients. Stir. Set aside.

Heat wok or large frying pan on med-high. until very hot. Add second amount of cooking oil.
Add shrimp. Stir-fry for about 1 min until shrimp turn pink. Transfer to separate small bowl. Cover to keep warm.

Add third amount of cooking oil to hot wok. Add next 4 ingreds. Stir-fry for about 1 minute until fragrant.

Add pork. Stir-fry for about 5 mins until pork is no longer pink. Stir cornstarch mixture. Add to pork mixture. Stir-fry for about 1 minute until boiling and thickened.

Add noodles and cabbage. Stir-fry for about 2 mins until cabbage is tender-crisp. Add shrimp. Stir.

Serves 6. About 1.5 cups per serving. 11 points.

Weight Watchers modifications: I used House Foods Shirataki tofu noodles in place of egg noddles and omitted the oil for tossing them in. If you are cutting back on carbs and calories and you haven't tried these noodles yet - you are seriously missing out. Get on it, and don't be scared of them! Make sure to follow package directions for preparation though. (very important).

I also reduced the 3 amount of cooking oil from 1tbsp to 2 tsp. (small change but every bit helps)

I used at least 3 cups of cabbage instead of 2

I also made sure to use fresh, real garlic and ginger. This makes such a difference for flavour. And of course, as is instilled in me by my family, when the recipe calls for 2 garlic cloves we always use 3.

With the WW modifications it brings each 1.5 cup serving down to 8 points each. And worth every last point. I would have licked the bowl if Steve would have just bloody well turned his back for a second!

So far, so good...

2012-01-06T08:24:00.001-08:00

2012 is already a vast improvement over 2011. When I force myself to think back to where we were at this time last year, ugh... we are in such a better place.

I've gotten myself back on the WW track. I won't lie, it's not been easy. But life isn't easy and I refuse to get fat so... hard work is where it's at right now. I have been spending my evenings busting my ass around my house. Whether it's cleaning and organizing or making lunches and planning meals, or going out in the god formotherfuckersaken wind and rain for a run, I have been falling into bed at the end of the day exhausted. I must say, my sleep hasn't been this deep in quite some time. I'm hoping with continued improved sleep, the dark circles and bags under my eyes will start to dissipate.

Eating cleaner and healthier (and less) is actually quite enjoyable (it's the prep work that's the pain in the ass). I have been actually enjoying my food and looking forward to it. Actually feeling hungry before I eat is something I haven't been experiencing all that often in the past few weeks of indulgence. It feels great to actually feel like you deserve your meal.

We're also working on getting the kids sleep habits fixed up and although it's another big battle that I don't always feel like fighting, both Ruby and Lincoln have slept through the night for the past 3 nights. It's been a bitch getting them actually to bed and asleep each night, but we've been persevering and refusing to give in and it's starting to pay off. I fully realize that I have now jinxed myself by writing about it and both kids will be up nine times each tonight.

I got myself an iPhone. Oh, Lord, how I lived 36 years of my life without it is a mystery to me. As most of you who have already been in the 21st century for some time already know, this phone is life changing. The things it can do for me! One of my favorite things though (besides the Weight Watchers app and the banking app) is the photography! Who knew that a "cell phone" could take/make such cool pictures? After only a week, I utterly adore it.

I've been super crazy busy at work lately, and balancing life/work is a challenge for me. I'm a pleaser and I feel the need to prove myself over and over again to my boss. There's been quite a bit of overtime over the past few weeks, and having to find care for my kids has been challenging and at times frustrating and guilt inducing. I'm hoping things will settle down a bit for January and we can get into a bit of a better rhythm.

I'm really wanting to join a gym right now. Those nights when the wind is blowing and the rain is sheeting or the cold is bitter, it would be so nice to get inside a gym and get my exercise there as opposed to running in the elements. The gym would also offer more of a variety of exercise as opposed to just running. However, I'm a proud woman and I refuse to be among the masses of people who join a gym in January. I don't want to be one of "them". Also, gyms are insane busy in January and that would just piss me off. So for now, I just keep on running outside. Maybe in February I can reassess the need to attend the gym, and my pride.

I have been drinking tea and eating oatmeal for breakfast each day this week. But since today is Friday (woohoo!), I'm treating myself.

How's 2012 treating YOU??

Welcome, 2012

2012-01-02T21:00:00.000-08:00

Here we are in 2012 and I welcome it with open arms.

On New Years Eve day, Steve and Ruby went out for a bit in the morning. Linc and I headed over to the store to pick up a few things. The lady in the store gave him a cookie and he was quite content and I was happy to be out in the cold, fresh air getting a bit of exercise...

As noted from the above package of paper towels, I spent much of New Years Eve day cleaning the house and preparing to welcome 2012. I wanted the house to be as clean as possible (which is not an easy task when you have two littles) to help rid us of the negativity of 2011. After mopping the floors I had Steve and the kids stand in the window as I tossed the bucket full of dirty water past the front window. This was to scare off bad luck for 2012.

Late in the afternoon, Steve and I had a couple of glasses of cold beer. We drank from the beer glasses that I bought him for Christmas. I found them at the One of a Kind Tradeshow back in December. And one of a kind they are. They're beer bottles, which have been upcylcled into beer glasses by a very clever glass blower. Only trouble is that they make drinking beer a little too easy...

And then we had a little party...

In typical 2011 fashion, December 31st was a struggle right to the bitter end. The kids got cranky in the afternoon and then did NOT want to go to bed. They stayed up later than we would have liked and did not go down easy.

Once they were finally resting and the house had quieted down, I put pen to paper and wrote out the list of things that I wanted to say goodbye to from 2011. The list was a long one...

I then headed out to the yard to dig a hole, light my list on fire and bury it. And afterwards pour water over the burial...

I really felt good doing this ritual and hope to make it an annual tradition. Although I do hope that every year is not as hard as this one. When I came in the house afterwards, I had the smell of fire on my hands which made it feel even more satisfying.

Although I had hoped that I might stay up until midnight to welcome 2012, I didn't make it past 10pm. I had to wait to welcome it the following morning - which was fine.

To be fair, some really good things did happen in 2011. I found the most wonderful daycare for my kids. Lincoln learned to walk. I went to visit my Grandma and family/friends in Ontario for Thanksgiving. I lost 30lbs. I survived the hardest year ever. None of those things happened without hard work.

Now, I realize that burning a piece of paper and tearing December off the calendar does not magically make life different, but rolling over a new year is the perfect time to reflect and make goals and changes for a better life. And it's a good time to try to make a clean break from negativity of the past. Good things don't just happen, you have to work at them. And I'm ready to get to work.

Ready for a fresh start

2011-12-29T14:40:00.000-08:00

My boobs are bigger and my underwear keeps riding the crack of my ass.

There is only one reason for this – I have gained weight.

I stopped strictly following Weight Watchers last July. I’ve been able to maintain my weight loss by watching what I eat and exercising regularly. Until I stopped doing that. The past month has been a crazy one and I let go of any and all discipline over myself – partially because for the love of God, I can only do so much!!!! And partially because I knew January was coming.

I’m all about the fresh start in January.
2011 has been a very difficult year. In fact I do not have memory of a year with quite so many setbacks, sadness and demise. I’m not saying there hasn’t been a year this bad before, but if there has I have mentally blocked it out. I’m ready for it to be over. It is hanging on and socking it to me right up to the final days. I’m ready for the dark cloud to blow the fuck away. I'm going to turn over a new leaf.

I have a plan in place, in my head, of the things that are going to happen when the clock strikes 12 on January 1st, 2012. Normally I don’t talk about the things I’m “going to do”. I just do them. But I feel like I need to put them to paper… or Internet as it might be.

In non-stereotypical fashion, I have been seeking a ritual to perform to rid myself of the nasty that was 2011 and I believe I have found the perfect one. The ritual goes like this - on New Years Eve, I will take a white piece of paper and write on it all the things that I want to be rid of from 2011. I will then burn the paper. Bury the ashes. And then pour water over the burial. You may think this sounds a little crazy, but it feels right just to think about it, and it's what I need to do to end this shitty year and start the next one clean.

Other than this ritual, there are other things that need to happen to get 2012 started right. The first is that I need to see a doctor about this ongoing illness that I’ve been slugging through for two weeks now. It started as a horrid flu and has now developed into a persistent, unrelenting sinus infection. Call me crazy but I kind of think it’s important when you’re giving yourself a new start, that you’re able to breathe.

I think I’m finally going to take the leap and move from Blackberry to an iPhone. I have been hesitant to make the switch but I think it’s going to help me manage my life more efficiently in so many different ways. Probably in ways I haven’t even thought of yet.

Once I’m able to actually breathe again, and hopefully will then have more energy than a slug, it’s all stereotypeical resolutions from there. I got brand new runners for Christmas which I plan on putting to the pavement once again. I haven’t been running in two weeks. I’m ready for the fresh air and sweat and runner’s high. I'm considering rejoining a gym.

Of course I’m jumping right back on the Weight Watchers bandwagon as well. I have been eating whatever and whenever I feel. It was fun at first (sorta), but now I just feel disgusted in myself (yet, I can’t/won’t stop myself until next week). I’m ready to start exercising some discipline and control. I’m looking forward to keeping track of things and weighing and measuring what I eat. I know, it sounds like a total bummer but it’s going to be good. It’s going to feel great.

I am going to feel great.

The Worst Timing

2011-12-23T19:21:00.001-08:00

Want to know why I haven't blogged lately?

Because I have been down and motherfucking out.

Last weekend Ruby was sick with the flu. And don't you just know that Sunday night that flu hit me so hard that I felt I might die in my sleep. Rather I wished I would. It was full on, every symptom, full blown flu.

But that's not all!

Monday and Tuesday - when I should have been home, resting, trying to get better for the upcoming festive season - I was at work enduring, single-handedly, a pension audit. It was an external audit, performed by a very large firm. I have never been through an audit to this degree before and our pension practices have never been audited before. A simple 8 hour day was not enough. No, I was at work for 11 hours each day - in pain, aching, skin hurting, eyes burning, shivering, sneezing, sweating, crying. Yes, it's pathetic but I was crying.

Since then, I've slowly upgraded from the worst flu ever to a severe chest and head cold.

I am physically exhausted. Like, sit-down-on-the-bed-to-put-socks-on-and-fall-asleep exhausted.

You know how when you're sick for a long time you start to get depressed? Yeah, well... that.

Tomorrow is Christmas eve. I pulled out the gifts today and realized I'm not done yet. I'm not sure how I could have thought I was done. Maybe in my feverish delirium I hallucinated having everything I needed to pull off Christmas. So I guess I'll be out there with the last minuters tomorrow, trying to pick up the stuff I still need. Thankfully my kids are 3 years and 18 months old and they won't really know the difference if there are only 2 items in their stockings and nothing under the tree is wrapped.

Oh Christmas Tree...

2011-12-18T07:39:00.001-08:00

Having a kids birthday in December makes the busiest month of the year all the more busy. Still, I have vowed that we don't bring Christmas into our house until after Ruby's birthday on the 13th. I think it would be hard enough having a birthday in December, I always want her birthday to be about her and Christmas can wait until after.

Funny, it was the day after Ruby's birthday that I even started to feel twinges of Christmas spirit. Either I've conditioned myself to shut out Christmas until the 14th, or the stress of a 3 year old's birthday had lifted and I was open to feel some Christmas joy. Either way, we put up our stockings and got a tree this past Friday and I went on a determined shopping spree on Thursday afternoon and got most of everything bought. I also owe some sanity to online shopping this year - that shit is handy.

Decorating a Christmas tree with two toddlers is an interesting experience. Things happen that you don't anticipate - and I tried to anticipate everything. Once the tree was home, Steve and I poured ourselves a couple glasses of Christmas cheer and I made us a plate of nachos to nibble on while we decorated. While we were doing that, we heard the twinkling noises of fragile things breaking in the other room. The kids had managed to open the boxes of decorations and Lincoln was single handedly testing each and every decoration to see which were breakable and which were not.

Thankfully he hadn't yet made it to the box of ornaments that were expensive or had sentimental meaning. I found that box, taped it shut and packed it away - deciding to take those decorations out of rotation this year.

After the nachos were made, I was stringing the tree with lights when I heard Lincoln crunching on something behind me. I turned around expecting to see him eating a nacho but he had a shard of broken ornament in his hand and was standing watching me decorate, while munching on it casually.

And so the decorating pretty much stopped at the lights. There are about 6 unbreakable ornaments and a few candy canes hanging high on the tree and we've decided that's good enough. I'm calling it the "minimalist" look this year...

Hey - on the bright side, it's going to be super easy to take down and put away.

How We Do Three

2011-12-08T13:38:00.001-08:00

In 5 days my daughter will turn 3 years old.

A month or two ago I started agonizing over how we should celebrate her birthday. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was for a 3 year old but I know lots of people throw their kids big parties at that age.

Case in point – we were invited to one such party back in October. There were a SHITLOAD of kids there. And because kids at that age are not yet able to attend parties on their own – the house was not only full of manic, sugar high kids but also bustling parents. Kids were running around everywhere while their parents tried to make them properly play pin the eye on Muno, or remember their manners while eating the giant Brobee cake or to wait their turn for face painting.

I stood back and watched the whole thing in horror, thinking that I would have to put on something like this for Ruby. But how and what and where? Gah!

But then I tuned in to Ruby and noticed something… she didn’t seem to be overly enjoying herself. She was quiet, standing back, mostly watching the party. Her body language indicated she might have been a bit nervous. I gently encouraged her to join in to different games and she shook her head and said no. Fair enough.

After that I decided to go with my gut – which is that at 3, a large scale party is not only unnecessary but also not enjoyable for everyone, it's expensive, stressful and time consuming. And it is not for us. It may be for some – I’m not out to slag anyone or piss people off who like to throw big parties, hey if you've got the time and money and energy for it, fill your boots. But if we’re to be honest, the party is not REALLY for the 3 year old who will never remember it anyways.

Last weekend we attended yet another large scale 3 year old’s birthday party. Complete with 3D Dora cake, parents dressed up like Dora’s parents, a framed photo of the child with the words to the Dora theme song printed out and framed on the gift table, and a giant Dora cutout for photo ops. Ruby played with the other kids and ate her piece of the Dora cake but didn’t want to get too close to the heart of the ruckus. Myself, I was sporting a bit of a red wine hangover and lurked in the back of the room, eating Ativan and praying to be excluded from conversations such as “What classes are you signing Sally up for in January? Are you doing Tiny Tutu’s again?”

No, this weekend we are going to spend time together as a family, doing something fun with the kids. And on Ruby’s actually birthday on Tuesday, the four of us will probably have pizza or chicken nuggets for dinner. We might have a few balloons because Ruby loves balloons. We’ll open a couple of presents. And we’ll eat cake (that my mom will have baked for us, as is family tradition) and we’ll sing Happy Birthday. Ruby will feel totally special and she’ll be thrilled with all of it.

And I won’t have to remortgage my house to pay for a bouncy castle or pony rides.

Dirty Laundry

2011-12-05T18:46:00.001-08:00

The thing with being in survival mode is that if all the factors that put you into survival mode in the first place don't all end at the same time, you might find yourself idling in survival mode for an extended period of time and then it can be tricky to pull yourself out of it.

Work was extra busy last week and I actually spent 13 hours there on Thursday, not getting home until after the kids were in bed. The following day I was able to sneak out of work a little early and although the urge to go sit in a pub and have a beer was overwhelming, instead I chose to grab a few groceries and then squeeze in a run before I had to pick up the kids who, thankfully, are no longer sick. It was the first run I'd done in 5 days and unfortunately I've not done one since although I did do a considerable amount of walking on Saturday. Still, I need to workout on a more regular basis. It's vital to both my physical and mental health.

My MIL, unfortunately is still in the hospital due to some complications. We expect her to be released any day but in the meantime, we are working around many round trips into the city to visit her.

This past Saturday morning I attended a large scale birthday party for a 3 year old with Ruby. Lord help me if that didn't suck whatever little mojo I might have been rebuilding.

The rest of my weekend was busy and I didn't accomplish much of anything except exhaustion.

The point I'm making is that although the worst of the worst has (hopefully) abated for the time being, there is still shit going on. And there will always be shit going on. But trying to pull myself out of the survival mode I've been in for over a week, has been tricky. I just can't seem to get a handle on things.

I woke up completely exhausted this morning and stumbled around the house, dodging mountainous baskets of clean laundry that have started to fraternize and breed with the baskets of dirty laundry. When the smell test is required to see if something is clean or dirty - it's time to take a stand.

I decided to take half a vacation day and used this afternoon to get a bit of a leg up on my seriously lacking housework. Everywhere I looked, I saw mess and it needed taking care of if I was ever going to move forward. How can you make a proper meal when the dishes are never clean or put away?

How can you find something to wear when your closet looks like this? Everywhere I turned, things were messy and dirty and it was so frustrating I couldn't think straight.

And just to add to the challenge, I need to figure out what to make with this...

To prevent myself from giving in to the urge for a nap when I got home from work, I stripped my bed and threw all the bedding in the washer. And then I got down to business. I put my head down and let my determination take over.

A few hours later, I had three of these...

The dishes were done...

I got my closet sorted and the dirty laundry washed and everything was put away.

In the bit of time I had to spare I returned our empty bottles and made a donation to the clothing bank.

And at the end of it all, I was able to sit down to this delicious meal, which shockingly, I did not order in but actually made from scratch...

Tonight I sleep on freshly laundered sheets and tomorrow I will be able to expertly pick out a clean outfit to wear to work.

Survival mode ends here.

Survival Mode

2011-11-29T10:35:00.001-08:00

About a week and a half ago, I thought things seemed to be settling down a bit. The kids weren't fighting as much and seemed to be a wee bit less demanding. Steve and I were getting along well. I was busy at work but getting lots done. I even found a little bit of time for myself. I briefly remember thinking, "This is not so bad."

What that brief time period was however, was a calm before yet another storm.

Steve’s mom had open heart surgery a week ago. Both my kids got sick. I got bombed with projects at work.

Balancing life is difficult. Balancing life when a family member has had major surgery, both kids are sick, working full time and wanting to actually keep from getting fired and not getting a divorce is really difficult.

I have found myself in survival mode. Reassessing what’s really important and doing things that HAVE to be done, while letting other things go.

The kids miss the odd bath. We eat meals on the fly or have take out. My exercise routine is out the window and I have to find a way to be ok with that – I tell myself I will get it back. We all sleep together in one bed. I miss some work. We miss a lot of sleep. We spend money we hadn’t planned on spending on hospital parking and expensive medication. We use vacation days we thought we’d use at Christmas. Food stays crushed on the floor for days. Dishes pile up. Laundry makes a mountain. I don’t have time to read or write. There is zero time to be social. Phone calls are short and to the point. I give in and don't argue with things I would normally stand up for.

I’m exhausted, stressed and frustrated, on a level higher than I’m used to so if I don’t make some concessions, I will fall apart.

I have made an effort to seek comfort in small things. Like the organic mandarin that I was given this morning, which may well have been the most delicious tasting orange I have ever tasted. Or the cup of steaming hot Tim Horton’s coffee I grabbed this morning when I was already late for work. The deep sleep I fell into at 8pm last night once I got my kids settled into bed (even if it was disrupted a short hour later). The giggle I get when my son does something purposely to make me smile. The little hug I get from my pitifully sick daughter when she’s limply lying in my arms.

We will see a light at the end of the tunnel. This is not forever. Things will improve – they always do.

In the meantime, telling myself that I am in a temporary survival mode and I am PURPOSELY doing all these things helps me keep my control issues in check and makes me think I am still somewhat in control of the things that are happening in my life.

Maintanance Day

2011-11-20T14:47:00.001-08:00

Last Friday I took the day off work and called it a "maintenance" day. Things were building up and I needed a day to get some things in check. I spent the morning doing housework - which may not seem like the ideal way to spend your day off but there is some sort of luxury in being able to clean your house without two miniature people (and sometimes a grown man) underfoot undoing any sort of progress you make. And even though the clean doesn't last long, at least I got to enjoy a clean, quiet house for a few hours.

After all the housework was done, I treated myself to a run on one of my favorite trails. It's about a 20 minute drive from my house so I don't often have the opportunity to go there. It's a windy, incliney/decliney 4.7km paved trail that I love running. Friday, after I ran the loop once, I grabbed my camera out of my van and walked back a bit and took a few pictures...

Later I had a nice hot shower (in a clean, quiet house) and then visited Chapters - which I haven't done in AGES. I wandered around guilt free because there was nowhere else that I needed to be, and bought myself a new book. I then hit the grocery store to grab ingredients for dinner (ribs and scalloped potatoes) before making my rounds, picking up the troops, thus ending my "maintenance day".

I felt refreshed and reset and ever so glad to have taken a day to myself.

Crooked

2011-11-16T17:09:00.001-08:00

Last weekend I was trying to manage the temper tantrum of a very strong little boy. I should have just set him on the ground and let him have at it but instead I was holding him on the couch, trying to settle him down.

I ended up taking a head butt to the nose. Hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

I covered my nose and cried.

Steve came over to see if I was ok. He pulled my hands away from my face and looked shocked.

"Oh my God! Hon, your nose is crooked!! Oh my god! It looks really bad!!!"

And then I cried harder.

Because it's always been that way.

Dining With Toddlers

2011-11-13T16:35:00.001-08:00

Once a year we try to get away as a family. We can’t afford a big vacation so it’s usually a long weekend away to somewhere not too far. This year we got a good deal on a nice hotel in Squamish so that’s where we spent this past weekend.

One of the things that Steve insisted we do while we’re in Squamish was eat fish and chips at the Wiggin Pier. He ate there with a buddy on a fishing trip some time ago and has been raving about it ever since. We normally try to eat out only once or twice on these weekends away so this seemed perfect.

We spent the earlier part of that day (as with the day before and all the time after) catering to the kids. It is nice to see them having fun so we tried to do things that they would like. We colored and played with them in the morning. Then we went out for a drive and Lincoln napped in his carseat while I played with Ruby outside in the rain. When Linc woke, we took them to a really cool indoor playground (that served coffee for the parents) and they had a blast playing there.

It was on the drive from the indoor playground to the fish and chip shop where things started to go south. There was an argument over an open bag of goldfish crackers. They each wanted to eat goldfish crackers WHILE holding the one and only bag. I tried to tactfully referee the situation, letting them take turns and passing the bag back and forth. Neither of them down with my solution and it set the tone.

At the restaurant, we were seated in the back at a table with a highchair and booster seat. We divvied out some goldfish crackers, ordered two beers and one plate of fish and chips for us to share.

No sooner did our much deserved glasses of cold beer arrive did things start to escalate.

It was a nice gesture for the waitress to bring BOTH kids a full cup of water, but Lincoln has not quite mastered drinking from a regular cup. I tried to help him hold the cup, offering him the straw. But he wanted to hold the cup himself and he was not taking no for an answer – protesting louder and louder. I quickly poured out some of the water into another glass and then let him have control of the cup in a desperate move to keep him happy. As predicted he dumped it all over himself and then he was PISSED OFF. Either because he was wet or because his cup was empty. Or maybe just because he likes being pissed off.

Just then our delicious looking plate of fish and chips arrived. I tried to bribe Lincoln with some fries but there were still too hot for him to eat. That pissed him off further. And that’s where things got really ugly.

My son has mastered the full body convulsion temper tantrum and he's not afraid to pull them out anytime, anywhere. He likes to pair it with a repeating yell/scream that goes AAAH! AAAH! AAAH! AAAH! AAAH! ...Kind of like a siren, but more annoying. And louder.

He also has a wicked arm which he uses to throw anything that may be within his reach. Cup. Place mat. Crackers. Fries.

I have a strong belief that obnoxious people who act like assholes in a restaurant should be removed from the premise. Children should be no exception.

As disappointed off as I was (and I was really disappointed) that I couldn’t enjoy this one small, simple pleasure of having a hot meal and a beer, I grabbed Lincoln and headed for the door. I told Steve to just go ahead and eat the food, drink the beer and come out when he was done. No point in everyone suffering.

I then stood outside in the pouring rain, in a t-shirt wrestling with a nasty, miserable, pissed off bear cub. I had been too distracted to grab my coat or the van keys and didn’t want to go back in the restaurant with this obnoxious little beast. I was embarrassed enough. I would stand stoic in the rain.

A short time later, Steve appeared at the door of the restaurant with Ruby. He told me that Ruby had announced she no longer wanted to be in the restaurant either.

So here we were like a couple of fools, standing outside with no coats, in the pouring rain with two unruly toddlers, throwing themselves tantrums.

We eventually managed to get Ruby settled enough so that Steve could go back in and finish up his meal and beer. He came back outside and took Lincoln, gave me Ruby and I headed back in with her to finish my cold lunch and warm beer.

When I sat back down at the table after getting Ruby situated in the highchair beside me, she yelled out, "NOW YOU SIT THERE AND SHUT UP!!!"

I cringed, knowing she obviously has heard that “somewhere” before, likely from a mother in the depths of desperation during a dual toddler tantrum. Can’t put my finger on the exact time or situation but I’m sure it was mine.

I hissed at her not to talk like that to her mother.

At that point I noticed a woman sitting at the next table, eating her lunch all alone (lucky bitch), not once looking up at us, not once flinching or batting an eye at our situation. She kept her eyes trained on her meal. Maybe she thought she was doing me a favor by “ignoring” us, but obviously she could see and hear what was going on. If she had made eye contact and maybe even shot me a weak smile a bit I might have felt better. Instead I was sure she was composing a blog post in her head about this ridiculous family with the two rotten kids and the parents taking turns drinking beer in the middle of the day.

While Ruby whined and fussed and squirmed and whined some more, I tried to eat my cold fish and chips as quickly as possible. Steve had given me a direct order, "Make sure you drink your beer". Well I had a full pint sitting there that was no longer ice cold. My drinking career has taken a serious hit since having kids, so I was struggling to chug down a great big glass of beer. It was at that moment that Ruby laid down the grand finale of the nightmarish lunch by exclaiming, *"I want to be with my REAL mom and dad! I want you to LET ME GO RIGHT NOW!!"

That looks great on a mom drinking a beer, with a full sleeve tattoo, who can’t seem to properly manage the two kids she’s dragging along with her.

The woman across from us still didn’t bat an eye but I was pretty sure at that point that she was secretly dialing 911 on her iphone.

I gave up at that point. The half drank, not at all enjoyed beer left at the table, a hunger still in my belly, sweat on my brow. I just stood up and walked out. (Thankfully Steve had already paid the bill.)

A short time later, as I was sitting in the pitch black of a hotel room, shades drawn in the middle of the afternoon, listening to two screaming lunatic kids refuse to take a much needed nap, I clenched handfuls of my own hair and cried. I mourned for the simple pleasures which are gone for the foreseeable future. I may have tried to deny it before and tried to pretend to carry on some semblance of a “normal” life but I let all that go on Saturday afternoon.

For the love of God, we were already taking our family vacation in fucking SQUAMISH!

It will be a very long time before my children ever see the inside of a restaurant again. Sadly that means I, also, will not be seeing the interior of any restaurant that doesn’t serve chicken mcnuggets any time soon.

*This is a line Ruby has memorized from her favorite movie, Coraline.

Saturday Evening

2011-11-05T20:00:00.000-07:00

Trader Joe's Spanikopita...

Pimm's No. 1 and Lemonade...

and...

Captain Highliner's Fish Sticks...

Being Real

2011-11-01T13:46:00.000-07:00

I am a proud woman and giving up is not something I do often. Nor is quitting something I take lightly. But the program assigned to me by the trainer at my gym is not one that I can feasibly work into my life right now. When I was finally able to step back from it and look at the big picture, the whole thing was really quite simple. It just doesn’t fit with my current life situation.

Today I wrote the trainer a letter politely thanking her for all she’s done for me, but declined any further sessions and let her know that I was going to go forward with cancelling my gym membership as I am just not getting the use out of it that warrants the monthly fee.

Immediately after hitting “send”, I felt lighter.

This doesn’t mean that I will now hang up my runners and sit on my ass and eat potato chips and immerse myself in reality TV every evening – on the contrary I have looked into different facilities and various exercise options in my community and plan on checking out some fitness classes offered at the local rec centre. I’ve also always got my ear to the ground for new and challenging things to try to push myself beyond my regular routine.

I was never looking for a personal trainer but one was presented to me. I tried it and it didn’t work out. That doesn’t make me a failure or a quitter or a flake. It makes me a realist.

Fitness Failure

2011-10-30T09:45:00.001-07:00

I've gotten myself into a bit of a situation and I'm not quite sure how to handle it.

A few weeks ago I was at an impass with my fitness routine. I had worked myself up to running 5km three times a week but had gotten a little bored with it and therefore a little slack with it. The running had tapered off a bit and my determination to eat healthy had waned. I put on a tiny bit of weight (3lbs) but it might as well have been 30lbs for how I felt about it.

I felt like I wanted to try something different to shake up my routine a bit and reignite my passion for exercise.

What I had in mind was to maybe try a spinning class. So one evening when it was too windy to run outside I headed to the gym to run on the treadmill with the intention of asking about the spinning classes they offered.

What happened that evening set the personal trainer debacle in motion and in turn the gym's impressive response to make it right.

I've now had two sessions with the regional fitness manager. During my initial assessment with her she wanted to know what my goals were. I told her, in all honesty, that I wasn't sure. I said that I'd "recently" lost 33lbs (now 30), that I had a previous goal of being able to run 5km comfortable - which I was doing 3 times a week. I told her that I was generally happy with myself but that I suppose I wouldn't mind losing another 10lbs and maybe toning up a bit. (Who wouldn't?) I emphasized I have two toddlers at home which limits my time, energy and ability to give a 100% balls out commitment to a gym routine - which is why I run. Running is convenient, effective, and I can usually do it right from my front door and be done within 45 minutes max.

She listened and seemed to understand.

My second session with her was killer. She worked my ass so hard. I was at the gym for an hour and a half and my body was sore for days afterwards. She told me during that session that she wants me to do the gym routine 3 times a week and also do 120 minutes of cardio per week. Plus I need to do stretches throughout my day and some floor exercises 5 nights a week at home. She also mentioned that she wants to set me up on a nutritional plan and that will likely happen in our next session.

It's a 10 minute drive to the gym. To drive there, get in and do the hour and a half workout and get home takes 2 hours of my day and when I get home I have NO gas left in the tank. When I got home from my last workout, I still had to feed and bath and put the kids to bed. I needed a shower and I needed to eat. I needed to make lunches for everyone for the next day.

I wanted to die/cry.

So here's my problem.... How do I carve out that sort of time/commitment 2-3 times a week, plus run 3 times a week, plus be a mom to two busy toddlers, plus be a wife, plus take care of my home, plus eat half decent, plus have some tiny shred of enjoyment in my life?? The thought of it is completely overwhelming and disheartening and, quite franky, depressing.

And how would I maintain some sort of stringent nutritional program? I know generally how to eat well (just lost 30lbs). I don't always eat well but I don't always want to. And I don't want to feel more guilt than I already do when I eat something that isn't on the "plan".

I HATE making excuses. I HATE being a quitter. I HATE admitting defeat.

But the whole thing has added some serious stress in my life and I don't know the best way to handle it. I don't want to be a quitter. But I know this is not manageable for me.

Admitting that to myself is hard.

How do I handle this with the trainer? I was the one who wrote the letter to Fitness World complaining about my experience there. And they were gracious enough to set me up with the best trainer they had to put me on a fitness routine. For free. With three months free membership.
And I said I wanted to lose 10lbs and tone up. This killer routine would do just that. She's doing what I asked.

I feel like a failure if I admit I can't do it. I will look like a quitter. Like a wimp. Like I don't want to do things that are hard. It's not that, but it will surely look like that.

I have a fair amount of stress over this and not sure what do to. I have gotten myself in over my head and not sure how to get out.

I'd love to hear your opinions on this. What would you do? How would you handle this without looking like a total flake?

Enlightenment

2011-10-26T08:49:00.001-07:00

According to Wikipedia a child is considered a toddler between the ages of 1 and 3 years old. Personally, I am hesitant to call a child a toddler until he/she is actually toddling – until then, they are still babies to me.

In my head I have kept Lincoln a baby - typical, youngest child, final baby stuff I guess.

Until last night when I was curled up in the fetal position crying myself to sleep after yet another unbelievably psychotic evening in my house, when suddenly a light went on in my head... Linc is now 16 months old and walking and talking. He is a toddler now!

Which lead me to my next light bulb moment - Oh my god, I have two toddlers.

I HAVE TWO TODDLERS!!!

Anybody who’s ever had ONE toddler knows how insanely difficult it is to manage them. They are emotional and defiant and unreasonable, volatile and belligerent.

AND I HAVE TWO OF THEM!!!!

And they feed off each other. They not only torture me, but they torture each other – so there is never, ever a moment of peace! Even after they go to bed (and never mind the total bullshit runaround that has to happen to get them INTO bed), they still are doing shit through the night that prevent me from having a few quiet moments at the end of another off-the-rails day, nor a full 8 hours of sleep.

I don’t know why I never realized this two toddler thing before.

I guess you might think that this new enlightenment would change my approach to parenting and help me improve upon my efforts at reining in the insanity that happens in my house every single, god-forsaken day – but I am pretty sure I have tried every approach, method, course of action and parenting technique ever invented – with little success.

On the contrary, I think what it does mean is that I now understand just how totally fucked I am, I should just accept it for what it is and let go of any hope of coming out of this with any shred of mental stability.

Letting go....

Improvements

2011-10-20T10:43:00.001-07:00

First I want to thank everyone who read my post yesterday and offered support by way of comment. It means a lot to me to know I'm not alone and to know that there are some fiercly strong women out there backing me up. Your comments are always appreciated (and are scarce these days for some reason). Shannon's analogy that I am not a punching bag for my family really resonated with me because that is exactly how I feel sometimes. I mentioned that to my husband last night and he responded by saying he feels the same way sometimes. I suppose I can see how that would be - except in a different way. I wish we could connect better and be more of a team instead of always seeming like we're at each other's throats. I hope it's true that things will get better as the kids grow. In the meantime I will never stop trying to make it better.

Last night I had my first personal training session with the regional fitness manager at Fitness World. I have to tell you what absolute, top notch treatment I recieved. I am so impressed with how Fitness World is handling the unpleasant experience I had there. In fact, the regionl fitness manager's boss (who manages 17 Fitness World locations) made a point of being there last night. He wanted to meet me, apologize in person on behalf of Fitness World and thank me for allowing them to make it right. The local club's manager also met with me and let me know that he is available to me for anything I may need, anytime. It was very, very good customer service and I am extremely pleased. Big kudos to Fitness World for going the extra mile to make it right.

As for the training session, this trainer knows her stuff. She treated me with respect and set me up with a fitness routine that is completely different from anything that I've been doing in the past 10 years or more - which is EXACTLY what I need right now. She explained everything to me that I needed to know (and more). I have been bored with my regular routine and not finding it as effective, which makes it harder to stick to. She gave me a fresh new outlook with different ways of looking at my fitness which made me excited to keep going.

It feels good to be doing something thats for me and that is going to make me feel GOOD. I now need to find a way to schedule a new routine with a few more visits to the gym than I have been used to. There will be a bit of a transition period and I will definitly have to let go of some guilt that comes along with leaving my family to fend for themselves in the evening a couple nights a week. How will anybody survive without their Martyr Mother?

I have also made the executive decision to find a housekeeper to come in to clean my home once a week or (depending on cost) maybe even once every two weeks. Someone to clean the floors, clean the bathroom, tidy up and wipe things down. It would take a huge amount of pressure off me and hopefully make me less of a Bitchzilla. I'm going to search craigslist for ads but if by chance any of my local readers know of anyone in the area, please do let me know.

Hoping these few changes help to make things better for myself and everyone who resides in my home with me.

Losing

2011-10-19T10:11:00.001-07:00

I am one cool breeze away from bursting into tears today – or flying into a seemingly unprovoked, irrational rage.

I haven’t had therapy (gone running) in over a week due to lack of opportunity. Steve has been either working late or playing soccer or fishing or whatever other self serving activity Steve chooses to do that leaves me outnumbered by two tiny sadistic tyrants for long periods of time.

Since I can’t afford $120 an hour to see an actual therapist, running (or any other vigorous activity) is essential in keeping me mentally balanced. Instead, I’ve found myself eating a little more than I normally would in order to stuff down the anxiety and frustration that I have been feeling. As we all know, this practice is not conducive to long term happiness.

I’ve made several attempts to recommit to Weight Watchers to lose that last 10lbs. (I could lose more but I would be content with just 10 more.) (...or would I?) I feel like I just don’t have the time or energy or support to keep myself on Weight Watchers for more than a few days. And every time I drop it I feel like a big fucking loser with no will power and I hate myself just a little bit more.

I feel defeated with how at odds Steve and I are with our parenting styles. Last night Ruby hit me in the face with a hair brush and I physically removed her from my lap and told her she’s no longer allowed to brush my hair. She burst into tears at which point Steve shot me a dark look (because I’m such a fuckup mother) and he said, “Come sit on daddy’s knee, Ruby. You can brush my hair.”

Not only do I feel completely disrespected by him, but he’s teaching her how to disrespect me also. And then they sit together happily while I sit alone at the end of the couch and try to shove down the hurricane of emotions blazing inside me.

I don’t know, is it wrong of me to not want my hair brushed every time my 2 year old has a whim to do so? Is it not ok for me to say no to my kids when I just don’t feel like coloring or playing a game? It’s not that I never do those things – it’s just that sometimes I’m worn out or trying to make dinner or clean up or god forbid trying to hear the 6 o’clock news.

I will readily admit that I do get frustrated and “huffy” sometimes. It makes me insane when food is all over the floor. My frustration is always, ALWAYS met with disdain and what appears to be disgust for my display of feelings. I know that with two little kids there are going to be messes and food on the floor but am I supposed to pretend to like it? I will never be able to pretend to enjoy pulling sticky granola bar crumbs from my socks every ten minutes. Don’t get mad at me for that - I would think it’s a good quality in a wife for her to want a clean house. Just understand that I don't like it. No need to get angry with me and treat me like I'm irrational.

All of it combined makes me feel like I don’t matter. I feel like I need to be everything to everyone. To never show negative emotion. To care for everyone and everything. To do it all with a smile on my face regardless of whether I am coated in granola bar crumbs and being beat in the face with a hairbrush or not.

Somehow I’ve lost the things that I used to do to refresh and recharge myself. I don’t feel good about myself – not my insides nor my outsides. I’m losing at parenting, marriage, housework. I’m losing myself.

I feel sad and I feel mad - but I promise not to show those terrible feelings or speak of them out loud, for they would surely just piss off certain people around me.

Now if you'll excuse me, there is a slice of toast and peanut butter calling my name...

Martyr Mothering

2011-10-18T12:08:00.001-07:00

Being raised in a small community, I grew up knowing what it was like to be “raised by a village”. My mom had plenty of friends with kids and we all spent time at each other’s homes or under the care of each other’s mothers. Be it for 10 minutes, an hour, overnight or sometimes even longer. My mom and her friends all helped each other out and took turns doing favors when it came to childcare. It benefits everyone – mothers and children alike.

I moved away from that small community in my 20’s but since having my kids I deeply miss the “it takes a village” mentality. I always envisioned that I would raise my kids with that type of motherly community. I long for the ability of being able to drop my kids off at a girlfriend’s house while I run errands and in return looking after another mother’s child while she does the same (and also having play friends for my kids).

My kids are still wee at 34 and 16 months but besides daycare or my parents, they’ve never had a babysitter. I feel like that’s not right – but I'm not sure how I'd go about finding one. Again, in the small town you know everyone, making it easy to hire your neighbor’s teenager for a couple of hours on a Friday night. But in the city, I don’t know all my neighbors and have no idea how to go about finding a sitter. I certainly don’t feel right about hiring a complete stranger to look after my kids. Too many things could go wrong. Too many bad things could happen.

Some of this I do blame on myself. Maybe I’m too controlly. Maybe I make myself into a martyr. Maybe I’m too chickenshit. Maybe I think I'm the only one who can care for them "properly".

This past Saturday Steve was fishing and I was home with the kids all day. I was trying to get some much needed housework done but the kids were restless and whiny and fighting and crying. It was frustrating to say the least. At one point I went downstairs to throw a load in the washer and Ruby came with me (Linc was napping). My tenant had the door open to her suite and as I was chatting with her, Ruby just walked right in and headed for my tenant’s daughter’s room where she happened to be playing with… a friend. I immediately called for Ruby to come back! My tenant laughed and said it was totally ok and Ruby could stay and play if she wanted. “No, we really need to get back upstairs” I said. I went in to grab Ruby and found her happily playing with my tenant’s daughter and her friend – both who are 7 years old. The girls asked if Ruby could stay and play with them. Again I said no and tried to persuade Ruby to come upstairs with me. She wanted to stay and play. The offer was made again by my tenant for Ruby to stay and play for a while and the sweet little girls playing with her wanted her to stay too.

But I made Ruby leave and come back upstairs with me.

And I’ve been thinking about it ever since.

Why couldn’t I just let her stay? There was no safety issue. I fully trust my tenant, she is a great mom and a good person. Her daughter and friend are sweet and kind and were excited to look after Ruby and play with her. Ruby could have just come back upstairs at any time, at her leisure. And Ruby would have enjoyed it. And I would have too.

So why didn’t I allow it then?

Part of it is that I am trying to keep from getting too chummy, too soon with my tenant. I like her, she is about my age, we have some similar interests. But I am afraid if I get too friendly then I lose the landlord/tenant relationship and perhaps things could go south. Is that wrong of me? I felt like if I left Ruby down there to play then I blur the line of landlord/tenant and border on being friends.

*gasp*

Friends?! Why wouldn’t I want to be friends with the nice woman who lives in my basement? I suppose part of that comes from my last landlording experience which was a DISASTER. And part of it is the controller in of me.

Continuing on with being honest, part of it was also me being in martyr mode. I am responsible for my children. I do not want to seem as though I am pawning them off on unsuspecting people whom are not family. I should just struggle through the rest of my day on my own with no help. (Why can’t I accept help?)

Part of me was also concerned with the age difference – but I’m not sure how valid that is. The girls were seven years old and Ruby’s not three yet. I didn’t think they wouldn’t have the same play interests (even though they were playing with a dollhouse and Ruby LOVES dollhouses). I also feel like Ruby can be unruly and doesn’t listen when she’s told, no. What if she got into something and she wouldn’t listen when they told her to stop?? Except that she’s usually really good when she’s around people other than her immediate family. And again, she could have been sent back upstairs at any given time.

The more I think about the situation the more I am pissed off at myself for passing up this opportunity. I had the chance to have a little break, for Ruby to get to play with some new girls, for me to make a connection with another mother – and I blew it. And for reasons that, upon assessing them, are probably not all that legitimate.

Am I the only person who does this? Does anyone else martyr/mother like this? Do you struggle to allow yourself to connect with other women? And make up reasons to validate that? Am I allowing my fear to control my kids? Or am I legit in my ways?

Saturday Afternoon

2011-10-15T13:14:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday. Steve is fishing. Lincoln is napping. Ruby is watching a movie.

I should really be cleaning the bathroom right now.

Instead...

Rectification

2011-10-14T17:43:00.002-07:00

When I sent this letter to Steve Nash Fitness World I had no personal agenda. I was genuinely pissed off and genuinely only wanted to terminate my membership with them. I was truly disappointed in how I was treated and had no desire to continue attending the facility, much less paying them a monthly fee.

This is a HUGE company with multiple locations and I did not think that they would respond to my letter. Honestly it just felt good writing it and sending it off.

I was satisfied when I received an email response within the hour letting me know that my membership was cancelled and no further fees would be deducted from my bank account.

End of story. Or so I thought.

Later that evening I discovered that I had a few messages on my home phone (which I rarely check) from both the regional fitness manager of Fitness World and from the manager of the North Delta location where I was a member. Both sounded genuinely concerned with what I experienced and asked that I return their calls. The regional fitness manager went so far so to give me her email address and personal cell phone number.

The regional fitness manager and I connected this afternoon via cell phone.

I have to say, I was impressed with her concern over my unpleasant experience and her desire to make it right.

She has offered (and I have accepted) to give me three months of membership plus she is going to PERSONALLY become my personal trainer - for... free. She does not live near the Fitness World location that I attend yet she has set up an appointment for me next Wednesday evening to give me a proper personal assessment and set me up on a fitness program that will be tailored to my needs and goals. And she has said she would give me a few additional sessions at no cost.

I am pleased and pleasantly surprised that someone cared enough to do something about my experience and to make it right.

That doesn't happen all that often these days.

Cancellation - UPDATED

2011-10-13T13:07:00.001-07:00

Attention: Steve Nash Fitness World & Sports Club;

I recently visited Steve Nash Fitness World, North Delta location (where I am a member) to go for a run on the treadmill. I was solicited by a woman at the front desk to sign up for a “free” personal training assessment with a trainer. I wasn’t looking for a personal trainer but thought maybe my regular routine could use some tweaking so I agreed and booked the appointment.

I was well aware going into this that there would be some sort of pitch at the end for me to buy some sessions with the trainer and considered that maybe this might be something I might be interested in and I went into it with an open mind.

I sat with the trainer at the beginning of the assessment and advised him that I am a busy mother of two very young children, I have recently lost 30lbs and I run 5km three times a week – usually from my home because that is the quickest and most convenient way for me to fit in exercise. I am generally happy with my appearance and my fitness level but would be interested in maybe losing a couple more pounds and perhaps toning up.

Unfortunately, the trainer obviously has a generic routine that he offers and in no way took heed of my situation. Not once did the trainer suggest any sort of a program that would be remotely tailored to a busy mother of two very young children who works full time. Instead he was concerned with telling me my flaws (excess belly fat, need to lose 20lbs, flabby arms, poor posture, sloped shoulders) and making sure I knew of all his credentials (body building champion, past manager of another gym, etc). All of that means nothing to me if he isn’t able to create a fitness plan that is going to work for me. This trainer couldn’t have been further off from my needs and goals despite the consultation prior to the workout when I explained to him everything that he needed to take into consideration.

Why would I – or anyone for that matter - spend hundreds or thousands of dollars on a trainer who is not going to tailor a program to my personal needs, but instead try to push something very generic and in no way suited to me?

The icing on the cake was the woman pitching the sale. She was obnoxious and very pushy, even stooping so low as to tell me that if anyone found out she was offering to throw in two free sessions with the trainer that she would lose her job. That is a pathetic and very old school way to try to sell something. She was aggressively pushing for me to purchase a package on the spot, threatening that the deal was “literally” going to be gone within hours and I needed to commit immediately. I don’t think it’s unreasonable for me to think about it for a day or so and I expect a salesperson to understand that. Also, as I mentioned more than once, I have a family whom I need to take care of and can not just drop hundreds/thousands of dollars without discussing it with my husband. She didn’t care about that and was so obviously concerned with making a sale.

I would also like to mention how unappealing her appearance was. She was quite overweight and not overly well kept. This is someone who is representing your fitness club and trying to sell personal training packages – if her aggressive sales pitch didn’t turn me off enough, her unkempt appearance certainly did.

This unpleasant experience has made me realize that Steve Nash Fitness World is definitely not looking out for my health, well being or best interests and is more interested in bringing in cash. Therefore, I’ve decided that Steve Nash Fitness World is not the right fitness club for me and I would like to cancel my membership immediately.

~~~

Note: I had a reply within 45 minutes confirming my membership would be cancelled as of the end of this month. Sadly, nobody cared to address the reasons outlined in this letter.

UPDATE:
I have recieved two separate voice messages from representatives at Steve Nash Fitness World however at this time we have been unable to actually connect.

Whirlwind Thanksgiving

2011-10-12T14:01:00.002-07:00

We travelled, we visited, we ate turkey (twice), we kissed and hugged and smiled and laughed and then we came home.

It was a really fast trip and we worried that it wouldn't be long enough. However, granted we wish could have easier and more frequent access to our family and friends in Dundas, I felt like the trip was just right. We got to see everyone we wanted to see and spent time with my dear Grandmother. And Ruby was very well behaved right up until about 10 minutes before debarking the plane when she grew devil horns and her head started to spin.

It was enough of a change and distance and time for me to miss my home and my boys and to come home happily with a renewed appreciation for my own life and home.

Lincoln had just started walking before we left. When we arrived back in the Vancouver airport I spotted Steve holding Lincoln near the baggage carousel. When I got closer and they saw me, Steve set Linc on the ground and he walked to me, giggling, with his arms outstretched and reaching for me. It was the best welcome home ever. Blame it on the lack of sleep or long travel time but I burst into tears.

The one thing I do regret about our trip is that I didn't take more pictures. Dundas is a really neat little town with some neat stores and gorgeous brick buildings. My grandma's house is over 100 years old and I had full intentions of photographing some of it's neat old features. I wanted to visit and photograph my grandfather's grave. I wanted to take a picture of his work bench in the basement which has generally been left untouched since he died over 20 years ago. It just didn't happen.

I did get a few good pictures though. Here are a few of the ones I liked the best...

"Ummm... excuse me, stuartist? There must be some mistake. This is not first class!"

Seriousness...

Grandma in her favorite chair...

Grandma's front stoop...

Waiting for a special visitor...

Beloved Auntie Corney...

Grandma doesn't get out of her house very much these days so we were all pleased that she was able to come to my aunt's house for Thanksgiving dinner. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor when she did a Sambuca shooter before dinner. Grandma's still got some spunk...

Travel Countdown

2011-10-04T13:37:00.000-07:00

It’s now less than 48 hours until Ruby, my mom and I head across the country to visit my ailing grandma along with family and friends that we rarely get to see.

Up until about two days ago I was really excited about the trip – I mean super excited. I was looking forward to every single minute of it – right down to the drive to the airport at 5:30am. But the past few days have been crazy and I’m tired and stressed and I am circling the outskirts of Breakdownville.

On top of shopping and planning and attempting (unsuccessfully) to pack – which is one thing when you only have yourself to worry about, but is an entirely other thing when you are responsible for someone who is not quite 3 years old – Ruby suddenly turned into a child demon on Sunday evening and has not fully made the trip back to her normal self (which is challenging enough thankyouverymuch). Lincoln decided to hop on the Crazy Train as well yesterday and he yell-cried from 4pm to 9:30pm (with another hurrah at 3am). Teeth? I dunno. It doesn’t even matter at this point. All that matters is that between the two of them, over the past couple of days they have sucked every ounce of life from me.

Last night both kids were screaming from their beds at bedtime, for way too long. I was waiting for my tenant downstairs to call the police. I’m sure she must think we burn our kids with cigarettes and make them drink battery acid from their sippy cups at bedtime.

My house is filthy. I mean, filthy. There is enough dried food on the floor to feed a small country. I am the only one who cares about it though – nobody else seems to mind wearing slippers made out of goldfish crackers and granola bar crumbs. On a related note, the ants I see traipsing through the house look well fed and happy.

The fridge is bare and more than once I’ve considered reconstituting the milk that’s dried on the shelves inside the fridge so I didn’t have to go to the store.

Let’s not talk about the bathroom. If I could condemn it from use, I would.

I’m hoping that a magic fairy comes to visit while I’m gone and my house will be sparkling clean when I get home on Monday afternoon… *ahem*

I truly am looking forward to this trip. It’s just that the build up to it has left me with little patience, very little energy, a giant headache and an empty bottle of Advil. There is still a ton to get done (remind me to pick up more Advil) and I’m hoping I can pull it all together last minute. Sadly, I imagine I’ll be stuffing my suitcase and searching for travel documents at 4am on departure day.

Betrayal

2011-09-28T17:06:00.000-07:00

He and I have a pretty good relationship. I am generally not a jealous woman. I trust him.

Or at least I did until today. Today, all that changed.

The thought that I am "sharing" him with another woman drives mad.

Today he broke my trust and my heart. I am crushed and not sure how we will go forward after this betrayal.

He tried to deny it at first. But the evidence was obvious. One look in the mirror and he knew he was busted.

Today, my man came home with another woman's lipstick on his cheek.

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"The Help"

2011-09-25T07:42:00.000-07:00

Want to know how to ruin an otherwise good book?

One: Accidentally order it in the "large print" edition. This makes the book feel like it's YELLING the words at you while you're reading. Nobody likes being yelled at so it will make you really think twice about if that's how you want to spend your spare time. Also, a large print book is big and heavy and you could dislocate your shoulder if you carry it around in your purse (if you have room for it in your purse) - making the only convenient time to read when you are laying in bed so you can rest the beast of a book in your lap. This will make the book feel like a chore to read and cause you to take FOREVER to get through it - months, in fact.

Two: Read the book while it is being promoted at the box office as the latest movie. The book/movie will be obnoxiously talked about everywhere you look - TV, Facebook, Twitter, bus stops, magazines. People talk about it everywhere you go. Everyone is asking if you've read the book and dammit all you want is to desperately get through it. Particularly if you are a booksnob and you prefer to discover a good book yourself, LONG before it hits theatres (or in years past, Oprah's book club) because you despise looking like a follower. This is exaggerated when you had actually contemplated buying that book at the bookstore for no less than two years before it becomes the next big thing and you kick yourself for not reading it sooner.

I recently finished reading "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett. Had I picked this book up in Chapters long ago when I first saw it (in regular sized print), I think I would have really enjoyed it and and would be telling you all to go out and buy it. But instead, I'm just feeling incredibly "book fatigued" by reading it and am glad to get to the end of it and put it up on the shelf - where it is taking up a ridiculous amount of space.

TGIF

2011-09-23T07:53:00.000-07:00

I've had a bit of bloggers block this past week. Either that or I've been maxed out and something has to give when I'm maxed out. This week, that would be blogging. I haven't even so much as looked at the world with "blog colored glasses" lately. Usually I'm on alert for any and anything blog worthy but today I lifted my head from the wreckage and thought, "Hey, when was the last time I blogged?"

Ugh.

I've been busy - physically and mentally. I've been totally absorbed with getting our basement suite ready for our tenant. She is moving some of her stuff in this weekend. We had SO. MUCH. STUFF down there. So much. It was ridiculous actually. And I had to find a place for all of it. Garbage, donations, storage, upstairs in our living area. Our living area has filled up dramatically. Actually it feels like the walls are closing in a bit. Every nook and cranny and shelf and under beds and in closets and inside the automan and behind the chair - full of stuff. Steve says the house feels "cozy" now but I just feel cramped. I'm sure I will adjust.

And just when I thought I was almost done - I realized that once the place is empty... it needed to be cleaned. Fuuuuuuuck.... Made even more challenging when your cleaning "helper" is walking along behind you eating a chewy, chocolate granola bar and dropping bits of it all along the way. And when you stop to clean up the granola droppings she grabs your bottle of cleaner and starts going to town, spraying everything in sight as fast as she can. And she's fast. And determined.

Did I mention that I did all of this single handedly? With little to zero help from the other person who will be benefiting from the added income that our rental suite is going to provide?

*ahem*

But it's done now (pretty much). And I'm glad. So glad.

In the meantime, Lincoln came down with croup last week. Poor little devil had a fever of 103 and sounded like a barking seal. Croup is something that I'm terrified of. My cousin had it when he was little and had to be hospitalized and put in an oxygen tent. Luckily the doctor at the walk-in clinic (after waiting two hours to see him), prescribed a one shot dose of medicine (which I got after waiting an hour in the pharmacy). It was a ridiculously large amount of liquid to give to a 14 month old boy who was two hours past his bedtime. I held Lincoln down - wrapping my leg over his legs and hog-tying his hands together with one of my hands while holding a corner of his clamped shut mouth open with my other hand while Steve squirted syringe full after syringe full of medicine into the side of his cheek. In the meantime, his incessant coughing prevented him (and all of us) from sleeping through the night. He was up every hour, demanding attention for a few days. He managed to taper it off to "only" needing us 3 times a night and now we're finally down to once a night. I was slammed back into the trenches of sleep deprivation that came along with the early part of Linc's life.

I did the Terry Fox Run this past Sunday. I did it in the name of my late father-in-law, Stan. I did it in his town. I was just going to pay a registration fee but at last minute I was inspired by a coworker who wanted to sponsor me, so I did a very short stint of fundraising. I managed to raise $140 in two days - thanks to my coworkers and family members. The run itself was a bit of a challenge with a lot of incline and decline, a muddy gravel trail and one big motherfucker of a steep hill. Still I completed the run in 29 minutes. One of my best times for a 5km ever. Steve wears his dad's gold necklace now but that day he took it off and put it around my neck to wear for the run. I felt Stan out there with me while I did the run. I saw him in an older man's legs in front of me, I saw him in the balding, grey haired gentleman directing runners from the sidelines and I saw him in the man with one squinty eye. It was an emotional day.

Today though, I have taken a vacation day. So has Steve. We are sending the kids to daycare (with only a bit of guilt) and we're going to spend the day together. First up - I'm getting a haircut this morning. Then we're going to our favorite sushi restaurant for lunch and then maybe a little shopping. I'm really looking forward to unwinding and relaxing and hopefully having little to no stress today.

I wish you all a refreshing and rejuvenating weekend.

Goodness

2011-09-15T08:45:00.000-07:00

I wrote a post a while back about the condition of my grandmother and how difficult it was to be so far away from her while she was in such poor, ailing health. Since then, grandma diagnosed with congestive heart failure. She was eventually allowed to leave the hospital and return home where she is being closely monitored and cared for by family members. We are all on pins and needles, still getting daily updates on the ups and downs of her health - trying to keep the knowledge that our time with her is limited out of the forefront of our thoughts.

My mom is handling it a little bit better now but I know she struggles with being so far away from her mom in this difficult time. All she wants is to be there with her. Myself, I have tried not to think about it too much, holding on to the little bits of good news - knowing there is little to nothing I can do. To put it bluntly - it sucks.

Then two days ago, my mom's boss informed her that he was going to be giving her a couple days off and that he would also be paying for her to fly "home" to go visit her mom. She was shocked and absolutely delighted! (And guilty feeling of course, we can't forget the guilt!) Nobody could deserve this more than my mom. She is a dedicated, hard working, giving, selfless woman who has given her life to look after others. She would otherwise not see my grandma again before she passes. For someone to give her this gift is absolutely amazing and brought me to tears. There are some very good people in the world.

Shortly after finding this out, Steve started encouraging me to take Ruby and to join her. On a whim I looked up the flights and found them to be an exorbitant amount of money - money that I do NOT have - so I decided there was no way I could pull it off. But the seed had been planted. I couldn't stop thinking about it. How fantastic would it be for me to get to see grandma again! And having Ruby there to bring her sparkling light to everyone would just make it that much better. I must have visited the Air Canada website about 47 times. I must have talked Steve's ear off, trying to get him to come up with a magical solution to the money issue. I went to bed last night having made the decision that I just could not afford the $1200 flight costs.

I woke up this morning, walked to my computer and booked our flights on my "emergency" credit card.

I don't know what changed overnight but this morning I just felt like this was what needed to happen.

I had Ruby call my mom this morning to tell her, "I go visit G.G. with you, Grammy! On the big airplane!"

My mom is so excited, as am I.

My mom called me later this morning to tell me that my dad has decided to cash in some of his vacation time in order to give me a few hundred dollars to contribute to the cost of Ruby's flight. This is big for my dad as he is pretty tight with his cash. I am beside myself with happiness and appreciation!

Kindness begets kindness.

It will be a very short trip. We leave October 6th and return on the 10th - but we will be there for Thanksgiving.

I will have a lot to be thankful for.

It's Official

2011-09-12T13:28:00.001-07:00

We said we were done. We swore. We took measures to prevent ourselves from getting in this position again. I have said a million times that I would NEVER do this again. Our last time was really very hard on me, I was very uncomfortable the whole time not to mention the stress and worry about the future. I felt that we were already a little cramped with the living space in our house and now we have to tighten up and prepare to make due with even less space.

It’s not going to be easy, but we have to find a way to be happy in our situation.

I haven’t wanted to talk about it much. And I was waiting to announce it until it was official. I guess now is as good a time as any to tell people that I am going to be a… landlord again!

We’ve been struggling a little with making ends meet since I’ve returned to the work force and we now fork out $1300/month for daycare. (Worth every penny, I must say – just hitting us hard in the pocket book.) We have made all the concessions and money saving moves that we can possibly make and we are just not making any progress. The feeling of sliding backwards, further and further into debt has been a “slight” strain on our marriage.

Since my weekly scratch ticket purchases are not panning out the way I had hoped, we finally conceded that renting our basement suite was pretty much our only other option to stay afloat.

I have to say I am very much a rookie landlord and I am uncomfortable being in that position. But since our previous tenants were batshit crazy and the experience was absolutely horrendous, I have learned a few things and am trying not to make the same mistakes twice.

I am also really uncomfortable with having strangers living inside my home so it was pertinent that we found the right person. I think, and hope, that we have done just that. The woman who we have agreed to rent the suite to seems lovely. I am trying to remain neutral towards her but the fact is that after interviewing her and meeting with her a few times, I like her more and more and get a good feeling from her. I PRAY that I’m not wrong about her, but she seems to be the almost perfect fit.

It will be a big change of lifestyle for us to have someone renting the basement below us. Firstly the basement is not only fully furnished but also at full capacity for storing our stuff. I have been busting my ass lately trying to get it cleared out, find new places to put things or to sell stuff off. Secondly, our house is 52 years old and has hardwood floors. We are a family of four with two really little kids. We are NOT a quiet lot. We will have to adjust to being a little quieter by yelling less, stomping less, crying less, chucking our sippy cups onto the hardwood floor less. Luckily our tenant’s work schedule fits fairly well with our usually most noisy times. Thirdly – we will be reduced from two bathrooms down to one. Gah!

When we originally bought our house I never, EVER had the intention of renting out the suite - in fact I was always dead set against it. Instead I thought it would be the ideal place to for our “entertainment zone”. This is where we’d have our sports paraphernalia, our cocktail lounge, our dart board/ pool table/ air hockey table/ ping pong, etc. It’s where we would entertain our friends after we’d put the kids to bed and could watch hockey games and cheer loudly without having to worry about waking them up. We’d have big family dinners for all the holidays and people could mingle downstairs and wander upstairs freely. All our friends from out of town would visit frequently and always have a comfortable and private area to stay.

Deluded as we were, pretty much none of that has happened. Instead, our quite lovely basement became a dumping ground for kids toys and any and everything else that we are not currently using.

In the end, and not without sacrifice, it is going to be the area that hopefully provides us with a little but of a financial buoy and hopefully saves us from having to sell our home and move into my parents basement.

Ripe!

2011-09-09T12:43:00.000-07:00

I spy...

with my little eye...

something that is RED!

Finally! I've got a ripe tomato! Pretty pleased with it - although concerned that summer is over, I've got a LOT of green tomatoes and the plants have run their course and are starting to die. I'm afraid they may not have a chance to ripen. My mother-in-law, who makes delicious chutney, does tell me that she has a recipe for green tomato chutney. I may be making a batch of that sooner than later.

But for today, I am happy to report that I picked our *first ripe tomato and I enjoyed it in a toasted tomato sandwich for lunch!

*This is actually our second ripe tomato. Sadly, the first ripe tomato mysteriously disappeared from the vine and was found one story below our patio, splattered on the concrete. There were two possible suspects at the time - one who likes to pick tomatoes off the vine and one who loves to throw "balls" off the deck. Nobody is admitting to anything...

The Crazy Table Has Turned

2011-09-08T09:52:00.001-07:00

It happens on occasion that Steve and I both get out of work a little early on a Friday. When this happens we usually have about one free hour before we need to pick up the kids from daycare. And what we’ve been doing with that precious hour is sliding into the pub down the street from our house for a nice cold pint. It gives us a little time to just be together, unwind from the week and relax a little before the weekend craziness starts.

This past Friday at 3:05pm we found ourselves sidled up in a booth, enjoying a frosty mug of pale ale and a plate of yam fries. It was (it always is) quite enjoyable.

I noticed a table of three women just a few tables away from us. One woman kept looking my way. I often get “looks” because of my sleeve tattoo so at first I didn’t pay too much attention to her. But she kept looking at me. And you know when you’re being stared at it’s hard to not keep looking in that person’s direction.

Finally these women paid their bill and stood up to leave. The one woman continued to look at me and make eye contact.

Then she waved at me.

So, I waved back. And I smiled at her too. No, I didn’t know her but I was in my happy place and I didn’t want to be rude. What the hell, a friendly wave to a stranger.

Then she said, “Hello”.

So I said, “Hello!”

I didn’t really even think much of it at this point. Anyone who knows me knows that I’ve met up with my fair share of crazies in my life. Maybe she was just drunk and thought I was someone she knew. And she was being friendly, after all. It's nice to be friendly to people.

She continued staring at me and said, “How are you doing?”

I blurted back, “Oh I'm doing alright! And yourself?”

It was then that I heard a voice from behind me saying, “We’re doing well. It’s nice to see you.”

Then she said, “Do you still have the furniture store?”

I turned around to see a couple sitting behind me – who apparently own a furniture store. Whom this “crazy” woman knows, and to whom she had been directing her smiles, waves, hellos, and hi-how-are-ya’s…

At that point I realized, I was the crazy.

All along she was communicating with the person behind me, not me.
I started laughing. Oh shit, that is funny! But Steve wasn’t laughing. He was clearly embarrassed of me. He kept looking straight ahead - pretending to care about the women's tennis match on the big screen TV.

I poked him and hissed, “I thought she was talking to me!!! Did you know she was talking to them??” He just took a big slug off his beer and pretended he couldn’t hear me. He was doing his typical routine when he experiences something embarrassing or uncomfortable… he pretends it didn’t happen and carries on accordingly.

Desperate to let these people know that I was not crazy, I turned to the couple behind me and smiled and kind of laughed.

They blinked and ignored me.

Which made me look even more crazy.

Can nobody see the fucking humor in this! I made an ass of myself! And laughing at myself ALONE does NOT make it feel any better!

Hey! I am the crazy people magnet! I am not the crazy people!!!

Unfortunately though, I just had to ride out the uncomfortable (and quiet) situation until we paid the bill and left - not making eye contact with anyone and staring at the floor all the way out the door.

Pretty sure I'm going to be too busy at work this Friday to make our pint date this week.

Natural Talent

2011-09-06T13:20:00.000-07:00

I try not to brag about it too much but back in the day I was a bit of a big deal on the airband circuit. I have performed gigs at number of different venues ranging from elementary school stages to trade shows to friend's living rooms. Somewhere out there there is a home video of me and a broom doing one kickass version of Juke Box Hero.

I swear I haven't been grooming Ruby to be an airbander like me. Yes, maybe she's been influenced by seeing me do a few skits around the house here and there, and sometimes I might gently encourage her to keep up the good work when I catch her in the act of airbanding - but I believe in letting our children be their own people and follow their own hearts. I am starting to realize however, that perhaps good airbanding is a gene. One that I have passed down to her. I think she's going to be a natural...

Paternity Test

2011-09-02T17:03:00.000-07:00

If you don't know who Patrick Kane is, he is an NHL player for the Chicago Blackhawks. He was well known during their 2010 cup run for his "mullet" hairstyle...

After Lincoln's recent haircut I figure it's only a matter of time until Lincoln's paternity comes into question...

Classy Shrimp Cocktail

2011-08-28T20:54:00.007-07:00

I love serving food in an appealing manner. In the "good old days" I was known to throw parties and serve all kinds of food and I'd use the neatest of my serving dishes. I've picked up some really cool serving pieces over the years - they are proudly displayed in a glass cabinet in our dining room.

Times have changed and my coveted serving dishes rarely make it on the dinner scene anymore. It's usually just Steve and I and the kids munching on whatever I serve - which more often than not requires sturdy, non-breakable, serving dishes.

Ok, in truth, most of the time its the multi colored kids plates that cost $2 for a pack of 6 at Ikea.

Tonight though...

Tonight I realized how far I have truly fallen, when I put together this lovely and appealing "platter" of shrimp cocktail...

What have I become???

Blergh...

2011-08-23T13:46:00.002-07:00

It has become painfully clear to me that I am unable to successfully do cocktails two weekends in a row.

There were times (years) in my life when back to back (to back) nights out were totally the norm. And I had no problem rebounding – eager and ready for whenever the next opportunity to “socialize” might come along.

As I sit here at my desk on this Tuesday afternoon – after having drinks this past Saturday evening and the Saturday evening before that, I can only think of how I hope nobody requires me to participate in anything cocktail related for at least 6 months.

That may only be a slight exaggeration.

All I know is that after having spent much of the past few years isolated, housebound and unable to do much socializing at all, I have maybe been a little too gung-ho lately since I’ve found that I’m at a place in my life where I do have the ability to get out occasionally now.

And really, I wouldn’t think that going “out” two Saturday’s in a row is too serious and I should be able to rebound better than I am.

But I am not 25 anymore.

Ok, I’m not even 30 anymore!

People require things of me now. I don’t have the luxury of recovering in a peaceful and dignified manner (on the couch, in peaceful quiet and darkness with a large pepperoni pizza and a jug of iced tea). I have to recover on the fly. And on the fly takes a lot longer than I had apparently calculated.

I’m very sluggish and tired and quite non-productive feeling. I just want to be lazy. And I want to eat. OH I want to eat! I’m struggling to maintain my healthy eating habits these past few days. I haven’t exercised since Saturday.

To be fair, I am also on week two of a sinus infection, which is certainly not contributing to any feelings of well being. Yes, I should probably see a doctor but that would require me making an appointment, taking time off work and likely visiting a pharmacy to purchase medication. Just the thought of doing all that makes me even more tired. I’m sure it will clear up on it’s own. (It will, right?) In the meantime, the sinus medication I have been taking before bed is certainly not leaving me with a very “refreshed” feeling when I am forced to leave the comforts of my bed at 5:30am each morning.

I am in a state of feeling blah and I am unable to put forth the effort required to do the things that make me feel good.

So until I start magically feeling “normal” again, I will keep combating the effects of my recent shenanigans (and sinus ailment) by doing the bare minimum and lumbering zombie-like through my life, supplementing myself with cup of coffee after cup of coffee.

Wine and Cheese, Yes Please!

2011-08-21T16:51:00.006-07:00

When I find an interest in something, I go at it full throttle. Testament to this would be my back to back weekends of wine "sampling". Last night, I went to my dear friend Jenny's house for a Wine and Cheese party!

Everyone was asked to bring a bottle of wine, which we all tried samples of. It is a great way to get to try different wines - other people's favorites. There was a great variety of different wines - many different reds, some whites, a sparkling pink, and a dessert wine.

Everyone was also asked to bring a different type of cheese and an accoutrement. Again the variety was fantastic. The different cheeses, breads and crackers, olives, dry salami, tapenades, pates, spreads... Ugh! So good! and a great way to try different kinds of cheeses and other such treats.

The lovely, WineSnob was on hand to offer her expertise..

There was great conversation, over good wine and good food. What a fabulous way to spend a Saturday night.

We even got a little lesson on "Beaujolais Nouveau"...

Good laughs with good friends...

The beautiful and gracious host...

There were 9 women involved in the demise of these plus a few other lovely bottles...

It was a great time. When I finally got to bed (and reality) at 2am (2am!!??? WTF, Tarable??!!) I found Ruby sound asleep on my side of the bed. I nudged her over and fell into a wine induced sleep.

I was awoken bright and early to the sudden and unpleasant realization that Steve forgot to put a diaper on Ruby before putting her into our bed and apparently she couldn't hold it past 6am.

It's a good thing I have pictures of all the fun I had because waking up in a pee soaked bed at 6am after only 4 hours sleep and a few too many wine samplings the night before, has seriously made me consider putting my wine (or any booze for that matter) career on hold until my kids are teenagers.

Tomatoes

2011-08-17T20:36:00.001-07:00

Way back at the end of May when we had a rare sunny Sunday afternoon (if we only knew how rare), and we were desperate for some sort of outdoor activity after so many months of rain.

So for fun we headed to the local Rona and let the kids pick out a couple of tomato plants...

Which we then took home and transplanted and fed some tomato plant food...

We gave them a little water...

And then we set them out to let them grow. I gave them a slim chance of survival, nevermind producing any tomatoes. I am NOT a gardener.

Ok, truth be known I just really liked the big red pots and wanted an excuse to have them on my patio...

Considering the adversity that they had to overcome, I am proud and surprised that they have turned into these, big (albiet a bit scraggy) bountiful tomato plants...

They've survived poking and prodding...

And some pre-mature harvesting...

But their branches are full of tons and tons of tomatoes...

I suppose we're not in the clear yet as they are all still green and who knows what could still happen to them before they have a chance to ripen. But the fact that they've made it this far is amazing to me.

Winery Tour/Tasting - Pacific Breeze Winery

2011-08-15T11:56:00.002-07:00

Anyone who's known me for any length of time knows that I'm a beer girl. It has been my go-to drink of choice since the beginning of my drinking career. There have been a few different drink "phases" in my life (the Cougar Juice phase (aka White Zinfandel), the Vodka/Soda phase, the Martini phase) but I've always come back to beer as it has stayed atop my preference list.

I'm not sure if I'm going through another "phase", but lately I've been enjoying wine more than I ever have (the Cougar Juice phase doesn't count). For the first time ever I will take a good glass of wine over a beer.

Admittedly I am the biggest wine rookie out there - but, I'm working to remedy that. I have been trying to be more aware of wine and have been doing different things to try and learn more about wine. I would like my wine purchases to be based on more than just the pretty label that attracts me at the liquor store.

Often when I want to choose a bottle of wine, I will hit up my good friend Wine Snob. Having a sommalier one of your dear friends is ever so handy when you're looking for a good bottle. But I can't lean on her forever! I must branch out on my own and make my way in the wine world.

And so I have been trying out different things to learn more.

Just this past weekend I had the opportunity to do a tour/tasting at Pacific Breeze Winery. I took 3 other wine rookies with me and we had an amazing time! Not only did we learn a bunch about wine, we found new wines to love and joined their "wine club" (strategically marketed at the end of the tasting portion of the tour) where we can purchase wine from the winery at a discount with the commitment to buy 2 bottles of their wine every 3 months. And they like to choose the wine for you - which I kind of like! They also do a BBQ with wine and a band every few months as well. Sounds like a good time to me!

Beer could never do all this for me.

Back to the tour...

We started at the bar of the winery where the first tasting was of their Pinos Gris (of which I purchased a bottle, along with a bottle of their 2007 GSM.). We then stepped outside the door of the winery (sun shining, glasses in hand) to where the winery's one and only vine is growing. This winery is not on a vineyard and actually imports their grapes, usually from the States. This little vine is growing out of a crack in the pavement. I was able to use my knowledge from a previous wine class (taught by none other than Wine Snob), to be a smarty pants and mention that if this vine does produce grapes, they might be very delicious as they would have to work hard and overcome the adversity of growing from pavement to produce it's fruit...

We then went inside the warehouse to a beautifully set table with various wine glasses and plates of nibbles. Didn't we think we were fancy...

(Brought along my point and shoot but was I ever missing my Rebel)

Not only were we impressed with the different varieties of wine that they had us sample but also check out this snack plate! We each had a plate like this in front of us along with a sliced baguette and crackers in the centre of the table to share.

We then sauntered around the winery (glasses in hand) and were given a lesson on how the different wines are produced. I honestly learned a bunch and thoroughly enjoyed the lesson!

And when it was all over, I don't think any of us wanted to leave. Pacific Breeze Winery treated us very well. Maurice, our tour guide, was very patient with us and answered all our questions and also put up with some heckling and smart ass comments - which became more frequent closer to the end of the tasting.

This was a really fun and excellent opportunity. I'm so glad we got to do it and I'm looking forward to my next visit to PBW.

Crazy Bunnies

2011-08-11T12:32:00.001-07:00

A couple of weeks ago my dad was out mowing the yard using the lawn tractor (they have a big yard), when he unknowingly drove over (or near) a rabbit hole. Suddenly there were at least 6 baby bunnies that popped out of the hole, running crazy in a thousand different directions all over the place! They were zigging and zagging and bumping into each other and going this way and that way, ears straight back. Scared as shit and out of their little bunny minds, not knowing what the hell had happened and seeking shelter.

I feel like that's how things have been in my head lately. I was going along, relatively happy and relaxed and laid back and then suddenly something happened in my head and all the little bunnies came out of their hole and went bat shit crazy. My anxiety was through the roof. My thoughts were ridiculous. I felt like I had a million things to think about and worry about and I couldn't get hold of any of them. I even imagined things that "might" or "could" happen and obsessed over them, as if the real stuff wasn't enough. My mouth would open and I would hear the shit that was flying out of it and scold myself for not choosing my words more carefully. I felt like I was talking too much when I should have just been quiet. I wrote emails and forgot to send them and then fretted over why I didn't get a response. I buzzed about things that I normally don't even give second thought to. I tried to write but I'm afraid it came out all wrong since it was hard to nail down one problem and sort it out. I even cried at my desk one day because I felt so guilty for not sending jackets with my kids to daycare even though it was a decent day (what if it got cold!!??).

Add to that, some actual legitimate life difficulties that are out of the norm, and I felt like I was losing control, and my mind.

Stop the bunnies!

This happens to me sometimes and I probably know why. It's probably hormonal. And I should probably expect it. But it seems that every time it happens, I freak out and make mountains out of bunny hills.

And then one day (about a week later) I wake up and it seems that the crazy bunnies have found their way back to their safe little home. They are calm and quiet and safe again. And I feel like I can function normally. Strong and happy, in control and... NORMAL.

In celebration of the bunnies being back in their hole, I'm taking tomorrow off work to get my "house" in order. I'm going to clean up the mess that the bunnies made by going for a 5km run, painting my toenails and doing some light housework (clean house makes Tarable happy and relaxed!) I hope to soak up a little sunshine, maybe take a nap and definitely take some pictures.

The next time the bunnies pop out of their hole, I want to be ready for them...

Disclaimer: No bunnies were harmed in the mowing of the lawn or the making of this blog post.

Inspired by Photography

2011-08-10T15:27:00.000-07:00

Inspired by the Project 10 post by Robyn and 9 other fantastic photographers (it's cool, go check it out) I have decided that I am going to start posting more pictures here, on my blog.

I always worry a bit about what my readers will find interesting or funny or entertaining or whatever and I've been hesitant to post pictures for whatever reason. Maybe I think you'll think it's boring, I don't know. That's dumb because this is my house and I should do what I want in my house. Comments and opinions of others be damned!

Taking pictures makes me happy. I recently bought Robyn's Canon Rebel (DLSR) and I adore it, even if I am still a little bit intimidated by it. I am finding that the more I use it the better I get at it. Go figure. I've also been reading Tykeography, where I have learned a few things.

I sometimes still use my Canon point and shoot and other times I have to resort to using the camera function on my Blackberry - like when I am sitting on the deck, checking twitter on my phone and a cute baby decides to start rearranging the patio furniture. Had I ran to grab a camera, I would have missed this...

I'll admit that I've also been a little bit shy to post pictures that I've taken because I've somehow become self conscious of the photos I take. I'm afraid the photo savvy folks who read my blog will see a picture that I think is really good and they will see that the lighting is wrong (I am terrible with lighting!), or the angle is wrong, or I should have used a different lens, or, or, or...

I keep saying that I want to take a beginner photography course so I can know my camera better and so I can learn some photography basics. And I keep thinking that once I do that I'll do more with the DSLR. Because right now I'm a total photography rookie (I hate being a rookie!! I want to be the best at everything!!!!).

But in looking for a pick-me-up and little happy, I'm deciding here and now that I will post more of my pictures. I'll try to be less shy and self concious and just post them.

What the hell, why not.

Holding Grief

2011-08-09T09:55:00.000-07:00

My dear, sweet grandmother is very ill. She’s been suffering horribly with a variety of life threatening ailments and things do not look good at this point. This has been going on for a while, getting progressively worse. She’d been refusing to leave her home for medical attention because she didn’t want to “go to some filthy hospital to die”. Sadly it got to the point where the choice had to be made to force her to be taken by ambulance and admitted to a hospital.

At the hospital she had a blood transfusion and was given morphine for her pain. She made some improvement and was feeling a little better which gave us all a little bit of hope. But yesterday was not a good day, she took another turn for the worst. One of her lungs is filled with fluid and she can not breathe. Without an oxygen mask she feels like she is drowning and she thrashes about, grasping at anything as if she is under water. She can’t eat much - taking bites of food requires the removal of the oxygen mask. Food or oxygen – what a horrible choice to have to make. Her body is swollen terribly. She has a large hard lump protruding from her stomach. Her liver is failing.

I want to go to her. I want to be with her. I want to hold her hand. I want to kiss her cheek.

I want to hear her voice.

I want to talk to her nurses and doctors. I want to know exactly what’s wrong and what can or can’t be done for her. I want to make sure she’s being cared for in the best possible manner.

None of this is possible because she lives on the other side of the country, in Ontario.

I have been getting daily updates from my mom, who is devastated.

I hate hearing my mom cry. It kills me.

I am trying to help my mom through this and doing my best to hide my grief from her. She is far away from her own mom and feeling even more helpless than me. She’s heartbroken and needs comfort. Hearing my sadness would only add to hers. As hers is adding to mine, I suppose. And so I try to talk to her clearly and logically and carefully.

I discovered last night that I must also hide my grief from Steve. After a difficult discussion with my mom I hung up the phone and cried. Steve seemed annoyed with me and even raised his voice at me. I tried to explain some of what was going on only to find that it was “bringing back bad memories” of when his dad was passing. He got up from the table and went to bed to watch TV. Leaving me alone in a dark kitchen, to cry quietly as to keep him from hearing me. I try not to take it personally, I understand his own wounds are still fresh. I just wish he could offer me some comfort in my time of struggle.

Of course I also must not show my sadness in front of my little ones. Particularly Ruby who is very observant, aware and sensitive to everything around her including people’s feelings. It can affect her sleeping, her eating, her behavior. She tries to understand things that are bigger than a 2.5 year old needs to understand and picks up on any ripple of my moods.

In all of this, I feel pretty alone. I am holding in a whole lot of stuff with no outlet for release. Those whom I want to comfort me or listen or give me a shoulder, can not or will not.

Is this what it is to be a good wife, mother, daughter? I suppose so. It’s my responsibility to care for others around me and find my own way to care for myself without burdening my family. The problem right now is that I’m not sure how to carry it all and it’s getting rather heavy. The need to keep on going and to show little to no weakness is making me feel rather fragile and I’m afraid the damn might break at the wrong place or the wrong time.

Manic Mind

2011-08-07T21:02:00.000-07:00

Somehow the grandiose plans for the weekend managed to (thankfully) get scaled back somewhat. Still, I was out and about on Friday (cocktails after work), Saturday (took the kids to farm/petting zoo) and Sunday (afternoon BBQ). We managed to cut out the extra BBQ and the airshow (turns out the airshow isn't until next weekend anyways).

On top of all that, I still managed to get groceries, get the laundry and dishes done, get the house somewhat clean, and make everyone's lunches and set out clothes for tomorrow.

Side note: I also had to clean up a mega-puke from Lincoln on Saturday evening while Steve was still out golfing and today Ruby is suffering from bad allergies and also had a giant barf while I held a bowl up to her face - which made me want to also join in on Barfapalooza.

I will take my martyr crown now, if you please.

I'm exhausted and can't wait to go crawl into my bed which has freshly washed sheets on it - yet I am sitting alone in my kitchen and wouldn't you know my mind is racing forward to next weekend already.

Next weekend looks a little busy too, and I must say that I've been so housebound and isolated for so long that I'm not used to being busy like this every weekend.

Saturday I'm doing a tour/tasting of a local "garage winery" with 3 of my girlfriends. The tour goes from 4pm - 6pm on Saturday. I happen to know that there is no way that me and these girls are going to do a 2 hour wine tour and then kiss each other goodbye and go home. Just what we might get up to remains to be seen.

Steve will be taking the kids to visit his mom for the day and then Ruby is staying over at my mom's house and the two of them are going to see Elmo the next day.

All I can think about right now is the amount of organizing and packing and preplanning that I will have to do for next weekend to happen. What will they wear, what will they eat, where and how will they take their naps, will I pick up Ruby on Sunday or will my mom bring her home... and so on.

The thought of all of it exhausts me further than I am already feeling right now - which is kind of wrecking the quiet Sunday evening that I've been begging for for the past few months.

I am my own worst enemy.

Current Events

2011-08-04T14:06:00.001-07:00

~~~
I’m going for cocktail with a coworker/friend tomorrow after work. Something about doing that – going directly from work to an establishment to consume liquor with a girlfriend – makes me feel so carefree and a little bit full of myself. Even though I had to do some serious planning and pre-organizing for it to be able to happen. And I know I will pay dearly for it when I get home and the kids are running free-range around the house, naked, screaming, having been fed nothing but sugar, and refusing to sleep at bedtime just when my buzz will be wearing off.
~~~
I was in the “twelve items or less” lineup at the grocery store on Sunday, waiting patiently for the slow cashier to get to my less-than-twelve items. When it was nearly my turn to be next I noticed that the man standing behind me only had one carton of milk on the conveyor. I looked at him and said, “Oh! You might as well just go ahead of me, with your one carton of milk.” And so he did. Without smiling. Or saying thank you. Or even without making eye contact for that matter. He just stepped ahead of me, paid and walked away with his miserable, mean, old man face. I probably looked like an idiot standing with my jaw hanging open in "I live in a bubble" shock. I wish the rage had hit me sooner so I could have said, “Have a nice day, FUCKFACE!!!” to his actual face instead of saying it over and over to myself as I stormed all the way back to my van.
~~~
I’m feeling good and strong back on WW. Very glad I made the choice to get back on the wagon. We’ll see how badly I can blow that all to shit tomorrow after work. (See above).
~~~
Steve came home last night after being out for a few cocktails himself. He was in a great mood and informed me of all of the happy plans he has made for us for this weekend. He is in a golf tournament all day Saturday for which he had previously told me to consider him a “write off” for the entire day and night. Apparently though, when he gets home from that event he and I and the kids (who will likely have been in bed and sleeping for a good two hours) are going to friends’ house for a BBQ. It’s ok! He’ll make it work. Then the following day we’re going to another friends’ house for a BBQ – at noon - but we’re also going to an airshow (an airshow??), which is a two hour drive in the opposite direction of the BBQ. I’m not sure how that all works, but if I happen to shed a little light on the unrealisticness of doing all these things in one weekend I become the Big Bad Bitch (I always wreck all the fun stuff!). So I’ll leave it in his hands and see how it all shakes down.
~~~
We bought two itty bitty tomato plants a few months ago. Putting cages on them seemed ridiculous at the time because they were so small – and also because with my black thumb and my two kids who can’t keep their hands out of the pots, I really had very little hope that they’d survive a month. But now, a couple of months later they are huge and busting out of their cages and there are so many new tomatoes on them, I can’t even count them all! I can’t wait to start harvesting them and eating them and making fresh salsa with them!

And with salsa comes nacho chips and with nacho chips comes beer. Ice cold beer. Come on tomatoes, Mama wants a Corona!

~~~!~~~

Off the wagon

2011-07-31T09:26:00.002-07:00

Just over a week ago, during a time of high stress and constant chaos everything that I was responsible for in my life became overwhelming. I was pretty sure I couldn't keep going the way I was. Everything was too much. In one of my "make change to make it better" modes I started to look for ways I could make things easier. Something had to give.

Since selling the children to the circus wasn't a viable option, and Steve wasn't willing to quit his job and become my full time nanny/chef/handyman I started to look within.

I am all about simplifying. I love letting go of the things that don't serve me/us.

And after much thought and looking for an "out", I decided it was time for me to hang up the gloves on Weight Watchers.

I had lots of reasons for ending my subscription - some of them valid like the cost of the monthly pass, the fact that I only lost 10lbs in 3 months (which is both disheartening and NOT cost effective), the fact that I'm sick of the mental game that I play with myself. Some reasons were less valid - like beer, nachos and chicken wings. Enough said.

I knew that I would likely not keep losing weight but I told myself that I look ok now and if I had to stay at this weight from now on, then I would be ok with that. I figured I would save money, be less ~~bitchy~~ hungry and therefore able to handle the kids better in the crazy time between daycare pickup and bedtime. In my head I was going to still keep track of everything I ate and also keep up my running.

And while I did ok with the running, I wrote down what I ate for about 3/4 of a day - and then went out for cocktails and appies and never looked back.

Although I didn't blow the whole thing out of the water, it didn't turn out how I had envisioned.

I realized a few things...

I'm an emotional eater and that hasn't been cured by the fact that I've lost 30lbs. So during times of high stress (in other words, my regular life), I found myself grabbing a handful of almonds here and a cheeseburger there... *ahem* Without the structure of Weight Watchers, I struggled with keeping the stress eating in line.

I'm actually not satisfied with where I'm at right now in regards to weight loss. I mean, I look ok. No, I look good. I do. But... I could look better. And I want to look better. I also want to feel even better, be more fit and to wear smaller clothes. Also I'm pretty sure that the day I cancelled my Weight Watchers subscription that my belly flab grew at least a couple of inches around my middle.

I also realized that I kinda like doing Weight Watchers after all. It gives me structure and a base for eating and exercise. I always know where I stand in regards to what I'm eating and how much I'm exercising. The online portion of the plan is a fantastic tool for tracking. I like tracking.

I like tracking?

I didn't think I liked that part but I guess I do.

And in the end, going off Weight Watchers didn't magically take the stress and chaos out of my life. I'd even go so far to say that it actually made things worse.

And so... as of this past Friday, I'm back on the wagon. I know, who in their right mind signs up for a diet plan on a Friday, much less the Friday of a long weekend? Actually that didn't really matter to me. I was ready on Friday. The only change I made was to sign up for the online portion of the plan only instead of the full meal deal which included meetings that I never attended. The cost difference was considerable and I should have probably done that a lot sooner.

Its been a couple of days and I already feel so much better. I'm back to taking good care of myself and that feels good, makes me happier, which makes the chaos easier for me to deal with - and that is good for everyone. The break was good because it brought me around to where I needed to be.

Seeking Balance

2011-07-25T11:20:00.000-07:00

Since returning to work just over a month ago, I’ve found myself constantly tweaking and adjusting and changing things in an effort to try to get things to run more smoothly and to try to make everyone happy. Or happier I should say – since making everyone happy all the time is pretty much unattainable.

I’m trying to be the woman who rolls with the punches, adjusts easily, yet who isn’t afraid of a little hard work or tough sledding in hopes of a happy outcome.

I feel fairly confident in saying that my kids are now fully adjusted to daycare and actually look forward to going there. It’s a huge relief and I feel accomplished that we’ve managed to get to where we are from where we started (which was a lot of crying and anxiety and mommy guilt).

Another HUGE accomplishment on my part is having ended Ruby’s lifelong affair with her soother. Jesus, I’m humiliated to admit that she’s had it to this point. I’d like to give a good reason that I’ve allowed her obsession with it to go on this long but the bottom line is that I didn’t want to deal with the fallout of getting rid of it. That was until every day I was dealing with fallout and tantrums anyways and figured things couldn’t get much worse. So the soother is gone and remarkably, we are all ok.

As I just alluded to, we have however been dealing with Ruby being extremely moody, difficult and ever so unruly. Also Lincoln is currently cutting every single one of his molars all at once. Evenings and particularly bedtimes have been an absolute fucking nightmare.

Other issues include: What the kids will and won’t eat, and when. What they will or will not wear. Assaulting one another. Screaming contests. Throwing things. And Ruby’s favorite word… “NO!!!!”

To make matters worse, Steve and I have two very different styles of parenting. I’m more of the school that we do what is best for our children even if it’s by not giving them everything they demand (chocolate, pop, chips, soother, late bedtime, etc, etc...). Steve is more of the school of giving in to their every single whim (chocolate, pop, chips, soother, late bedtime, etc, etc...) because he “loves them so much” and he “just wants them to be happy”. This gives Ruby free rein to play him like a fiddle and to refuse to listen/talk/behave with me. Which in turn causes Steve and I to do battle, sometimes fiercely.

The frustration that I’ve felt has added to my already fragile nerves and I’m not all that proud to admit that I’ve lost my temper more times than a rational, responsible parent should. I have yelled and slammed and kicked things (thankfully not my children). I’ve thrown things and stomped my feet. After working all day I’m tired and haggard and worn and having someone screeeeeam for the full 20 minute car ride to go pick Steve up from work, in ridiculous traffic because she wanted to strap her “SELLLLLF!!!” into her carseat is sometimes more than my frazzled set of nerves can handle.

Just sayin'.

But that doesn’t mean that it’s right or that it feels good or that it’s productive for me to lose my cool. It’s not. And on those particularly bad days, I go to bed feeling depressed and defeated and absolutely shitty. Sleep is not restful – even though I’m bloody well exhausted.

So last week my effort continued in my quest to make us happier by adjusting things that weren’t working. I started bringing juice boxes on our ride to pick up Steve from work so they had something to shove in their little mouths to shut them up. Steve and I discussed trying to mesh our parenting styles (For the love of god, stop giving them everything they want!!!) And as mentioned we got rid of Ruby’s soother.

I also thought (however foolishly) that if I loosened up my exercise regime and didn’t worry so obsessively over Weight Watchers my nerves might be a little less frayed at the end of the day. And that worked. With a little more food in my belly and not obsessing about when I can fit in my next 5km run, I was able to be a little bit calmer and more chill.

That is until it was Friday and I hadn’t exercised since Monday and the kids went to Grandma’s overnight and I had too much to drink and then woke up Saturday morning with a hangover but absolutely needed to catch up on my running. So I went out in the warm sun and ran 5km with a hangover.

I don’t recommend it.

While I was all full of myself and admired my own determination at the time, it actually eventually exaggerated my dehydration, causing a terrible headache and later in the day my exhaustion was nearly unbearable except I then had to parent my maniac kids after they had a free-for-all overnighter at Grandma’s house, rendering me a nerve shattered freak, and feeling like shit for the rest of the weekend.

Here we are now, on Monday morning and I’m still smarting a little from the weekend. So once again I am in full on adjustment mode. Because last week just didn’t work for me – even if everyone else got what they needed, I’m going back on some of the adjustments I made and I’m taking back my exercise routine and healthy eating habits. I’ve cut out and given up a lot of things but as it turns out, certain things just can not be negotiable.

I bought myself a pretty agenda this weekend in which I hope to keep track of our lives so I'm not trying to remember when Steve is going golfing for the day or when he's on early shift or when Lincoln has his shots or when Ruby has a birthday party or even, EVEN when I go on local mini wine tour.

Please let the agenda be the answer. Or part of the answer.

Even a teensy bit of the answer???

Balancing life has never been so hard for me - nor have I ever wanted balance so badly.

Uncle Badass

2011-07-24T09:30:00.003-07:00

As wild, carefree, crazy, badass and sometimes troubled as my brother is, he's fantastic with kids. My kids love him.

And if he ever stops ~~chasing around~~ dating... *ahem*... "questionable" women, and someday settles down with a family - he's going to be a great dad.

I just hope he hurries up. Contrary to what he apparently believes, he's not getting any younger.

Struggle

2011-07-20T19:25:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, no matter how hard I try - I just don't seem good enough.

When things aren't working and the going is tough - I recognize it and I do my best to restore peace and happiness. I make changes. Make more sacrifices. Give things up. Give in. I try to be extra kind. I talk. I make my feelings known. I try to be understanding of others living in my house and their feelings. I read books and websites and seek advice on how I can make things better for my family and how I can resolve our issues in a way that makes us all happy in the end.

I try very hard. I just want happiness.

Sometimes though, it seems all for naught.

I'm ignored. I'm yelled at. I'm walked on.

I try to remind myself that it's not (always) me. I'm truly doing my best. People have inner struggles of their own and it can manifest as anger and cruelty to the nearest and easiest target...

I will keep doing what I do. I will keep trying. I will do my best to keep the peace.

But sometimes, as tough and resilient as I seem on the outside - I really hurt on the inside.

Thirty Pounds

2011-07-18T07:58:00.001-07:00

When I said I was going to take a picture of myself for every 20lbs I lost, I didn't realize it would be almost three months from my 20lbs loss to my 30lbs loss. (I'm almost ashamed to type that.) The last 10lbs have taken their sweet ass time getting off my body. But here I am, at 30.4lbs lost. Finally.

Finally.

When I look at the picture I took after losing 20lbs, I realize that the shirt and jeans I'm wearing in that picture no longer fit, and they haven't for a while. In fact, even clothes that I've purchased since then no longer fit and have been relegated to the basement closet.

And although I've been frustrated with the slow loss of the last 10lbs, I've actually accomplished quite a bit in the time it took to burn that weight off.

I did the Grouse Grind - which was a HUGE accomplishment for me. And I now rarely do runs that are less than 5km - in fact I recently did a 4.8km trail 3 times in one weekend - twice in one shot. I've also returned to the work force full time and have been tweaking my new lifestyle quite a bit, trying to find the right groove for me and my family. It's certainly not been easy - my entire life changed and I'm still not sure I've got it balanced the way I'd like.

I've been eating really well and my alcohol consumption has gone way down since the NHL playoffs ended (although since I've recently discovered my new favorite wine, I could see consumption rising again).

I feel that I am now ingrained with healthy eating and exercising.

Yet the really long time it took to lose the last ten have brought forth internal (and some external) struggle and questions on if I want to continue with Weight Watchers.

But if I had quit at any point along the way I wouldn't be where I am. Even if it did take a while. A really long while.

I'm certainly not done yet - even if I am concerned about how much time it's going to take to shed the remaining 18lbs that I'd like to lose. (13 if you ask my husband's opinion)

As encouragement to myself, I was going to repost my starting picture, my 20lb loss picture and my most recent 30lbs lost picture. However, in looking at the 30lbs loss picture that I took this weekend - to the naked eye it really doesn't look all that dramatically different from the 20lbs picture. (And that is not all that encouraging at all!) Although I personally see and feel a difference, the 30lbs lost picture really isn't doing it for me. So I'll stick with my original plan of posting pictures after every 20lbs.

Only 9.6lbs to go to the next picture. Hopefully it happens before September...

Rebel

2011-07-16T21:25:00.001-07:00

I've long been in love with taking pictures. I've never had a fancy camera though. For the longest time I've been using a Canon Elph - which I love. But I've been interested in something bigger and better for a while.

And then out of the blue my good friend Robyn - who is a very talented photographer, decided to sell her Canon Rebel EOS xTi. And even though times are tight and wallets are squeaky, I scrounged up the money to buy her first professional camera and she was kind enough to throw in some great lenses and a few other goodies.

This camera is my gift to myself. For having two babies so close together and still being alive. For being a great mom. For being a great wife. For losing 30lbs (more on this in an upcoming post). For doing the Grouse Grind. It's my birthday present. My mothers day present. My Christmas present. It's everything that I deserve.

To me, from me.

I got the camera late this past week and I am totally intimidated by it and it's many functions and abilities. I realize that I am a complete rookie when it comes to cameras bigger than my Elph.

Still, I've been playing with it a little bit each day. Slowly learning what it can do and what I can do with it.

I've taken over a hundred pictures already. Here are a few that turned out kinda cool...

I am totally addicted to this now. I can't wait to see what else I can do...

Big Attitudes Come in Small Packages

2011-07-10T20:52:00.002-07:00

The original intention of this video was to have a conversation with her on camera because it's been a couple of weeks since I've posted anything on the kids' blog and I thought she'd say something cute. Instead this snotty 16 year old attitude came channeling through.

Come on! She's only two and a half! The teenage years are going to age me something fierce...

Wine Class

2011-07-07T07:33:00.000-07:00

About three weeks ago, I attended a lesson on Italian wines at the Italian Cultural Centre. The class was taught by none other than my good friend, Winesnob.

I've been wanting to write about my experience since about 5 minutes after the class was over, but as often happens to me these days my life got in the way.

Better late than never.

I'd long been wanting to learn more about wine and thought this the perfect opportunity for that. I couldn't have been more right.

Although Winesnob (Marta) is an accredited Sommelier - and I a wine simpleton - she taught the two hour class in a way that made full sense to me, was interesting and was not at all over my head. There were others in the class who obviously had much more experience and knowledge than myself and as I looked around at the class I could see that Marta had each and every person's full attention and interest.

I will admit that sitting in a class room setting with two of my girlfriends, who attended the class with me, made it very hard for me not to giggle when Marta advised that there was an empty cup on the table for those who chose to spit instead of swallow and had I made eye contact with either of my girlfriends I would have embarrassed myself with an inappropriate comment or outburst. Marta stayed the course though, as a true professional would.

Marta didn't hand select the wines chosen for the lesson and sampling, but she had full knowledge of each and every one of them (one white, three reds), and there was no question asked that she didn't have an answer to. The wines were lovely and I came away with a new favorite red: Mastroberardino Aglianico Campania 2007. (Don't I sound fancy!?)

Marta looked lovely. She spoke eloquently and confidently. She applied just enough sense of humor to make it fun while educating the class on Italian wine (and wine in general). I couldn't help but to feel a sense of pride that she is my close friend. I also couldn't help but think about how proud her late father - an immigrant from Italy who made his own wine, would be of her.

She is a phenomenal speaker and teacher and should you get the opportunity to attend any future classes that she instructs, I think you should jump at the chance.

Cheers!

Seven Year Grind

2011-07-04T11:55:00.008-07:00

This past Saturday (July 2) marked my 7 year wedding anniversary.

Seven years is not ten or twenty or thirty years. Those numbers are all so big and round and significant.

Five years even seems like a significant number, but seven is just... seven.

I don't specifically recall what Steve and I did to celebrate any of our anniversaries - except our first (or was it our second?) when we packed some drinks and snacks and went topless at Wreck Beach. I was so out of shape I could barely make it up the long staircase leaving the beach - in fact I remember having to stop to catch my breath while all the nudist, pot-smoking hippies trekked on by. And afterwards we went out for dinner at the Keg and we both had the absolute worst sunburn we've ever had in our lives.

That one was reasonably memorable.

Since then we've celebrated in different ways. Dinner. Drinks. Sometimes golf. I honestly can't remember any specific details of any of them. I'm sure they were lovely though.

This past year, our seventh year, was our hardest. So much happened to us and around us and within us. There were times when I honestly didn't know if we would make it. It was a really, really difficult time.

Somehow we managed to persevere and pull through.

I really wanted to do something memorable and special and symbolic to celebrate this year's anniversary.

I've never done the Grouse Grind before and I've always wanted to. And after all the hard work I've done over the past months I felt that I was at a physical and mental level where I could pull it off. I felt like it was the perfect thing for us to do on our anniversary.

I mean how symbolic, right? We climb a mountain, together. Blood, sweat and tears. The reward of working so hard to make it to the top, together.

And even though it was his buddy's 40th birthday party that very same day and all the guys were riding in a limo to a fancy golf course to play a round - he agreed to do this with me. (Perhaps somewhat reluctantly.)

Here I am at the base of the trail:

And my lovely Sherpa:

This is just around the 1/4 way mark. This is actually one of the easiest parts of the climb:

Here we are at half way!

And finally, this is us at the top!

There is a Grizzly bear habitat at the top of Grouse Mountain. We got to get fairly close to this guy (with the comfort of an electric fence between us). It was amazing to see this huge bear so close. Steve is interested in bears and had never seen a grizzly before. I guess I haven't either. It was a great part of the experience.

And then we sat on a patio, overlooking the world, in the sunshine. The view is literally breathtaking. We enjoyed a couple of cold beers and a slice of pizza together. It was really amazing.

The feeling of making it the top of that mountain was like no other. I get a pretty good "runner's high" after doing a run but this was even more than that. There was so much more to it. It meant so much, for so many different reasons. And the fact that we were able to do it together was such a neat bonding experience that we both really needed. One that couldn't come from a dinner out, or beers at a pub, or a round of golf. Or even from matching sunburns from the nude beach.

(And by the way I could totally sprint up those Wreck Beach stairs now!).

One

2011-06-24T22:00:00.000-07:00

Happy first birthday to my son...

Back at it

2011-06-22T20:58:00.001-07:00

I've been back in the working world for two days now and you know... it's not been so bad. I've been able to drink coffee while it's still hot and pee with the door closed. And it's quiet there. People just leave me alone to do my work.

I've eaten my lunch two days in a row and nobody stole bites of my food only to chew it up and spit it back on my plate.

My boss doesn't throw hardcover books at my head.

I don't have to sing to anyone when they are pooing. In fact, I don't even have to be in the same room when someone is pooing. Actually, it's preferred that way!

I do my hair and makeup and get to wear nice clothes. Nobody wipes snot on my pant legs!!!

My kids are doing well in daycare. I really did pick the right one. They do still cry every morning when they are dropped off but I have ever so cleverly managed to connive Steve into doing the drop off. Let him carry around their sad faces in his head all day. Then of course when I pick them up at the end of the day they're very happy and excited to see me! Bonus!

Yes, the first two days have been not nearly as bad or as traumatic as I had anticipated. I am, however, very aware that I'm in the honeymoon phase and I'm sure I will one day (soon) look back on this post and want to punch myself in the eyes.

Is it me?

2011-06-19T14:56:00.001-07:00

It's Father's Day and Steve is a little bit quiet. I know he doesn't realize he's doing it but it makes me self conscious. I know not everything is about me yet I feel like it's my responsibility to give him a good Father's Day and his distance makes me feel guilty for some reason, like I'm not doing something right. I'm working hard at it though - the kids made him cards and I got him a neat gift (perfect for the BBQ guy!). We got Starbucks and went for a fun family walk at a nearby park and it was really nice. Still, I can't help but notice he's not fully present. It's his first Father's Day without his dad and even though he says. "No, I'm fine, I'm doing good!" I feel like maybe he's not really.

Either that or it's because I'm tired and bitchy and oversensitive and reading far too much into things and he'd really just rather I leave him the hell alone so he can watch the US Open in peace without me bugging him to talk about what's "bothering" him.

Maybe I'm bothering him.

Nah....

The day after...

2011-06-16T16:45:00.000-07:00

The Canucks did not win the Stanley Cup. We are die hard, avid Canucks fans and we really believed that this was "our" year.

But it wasn't. That's unfortunate.

When we realized about half way through the game that it wasn't going to turn out in our favor, things got quiet and the tension thickened. We may or may not have even shed a few tears at the end.

Strangely though, Steve got up this morning and got ready for work - just like any other day. He held up Lincoln and said, "Here's my Stanley Cup, right here." - which I think is pretty damn cool.

The fact of the matter is that, really, it's just a hockey game. And life... life goes on.

To be honest I actually have a feeling of relief today. No more ups and downs with wins and losses.  No more planning meals and events and evenings and weekends around hockey games. No more anxiety on game days. No more constant speculation if our team can/will win the coveted Stanley Cup.

And also, I don't have to return to work next week with a request for a day off to attend the Stanley Cup parade.

All that is gone. It's over.

Is it ok to say that I'm glad it's over? Not glad that they lost, just glad that it's over.

***

There were terrible riots in the city of Vancouver last night after the Canucks lost. I watched it unfold on the news. I was overwhelmed with shock and horror and yes, even fear - even though I don't live anywhere near the downtown core. I just couldn't believe the footage I was seeing. I had no idea that there were this many people, with this mentality that would partake in this atrocious behavior.

I fell asleep with the TV on with a blistering headache.

This morning I watched the 7am news and then the TV was shut off and has stayed that way today.  I don't want to see any more of it. I don't really want to talk about it (although that's been hard to avoid considering the magnitude of it all). I asked Steve to stop talking to me about it. It happened and it was terrible. Rehashing it and over exposing ourselves to it only breeds negativity and bad feelings.  It happened, we saw it, we know about it, it's not going to un-happen if we ignore it now but it doesn't need to live in this house, or my head.

There's no room for it in either place.

Blah Blah Blah

2011-06-14T16:20:00.001-07:00

Blah... Tomorrow the kids do their first full day of daycare. I am anxiety riddled and nervous about how it will all go down. I have imagined every possible scenario. I have made lists. I have tried to prep them as best I can. I have nightmares about the drop-off, knowing it will be a tear-fest.

Blah... I have sold a bunch of baby stuff in the past week. Bigger stuff. I have been stashing the money and plan on spending it on some new clothes and a pedicure before I go back to work. The only clothes I have worn to work since 2008 have been maternity clothes. I'm excited every time that little stash gets a little bigger but I oddly started to cry when I walked past the place in my garage where one of my strollers used to sit. (I had 3).

Blah... I AM looking quite forward to a couple of days to myself. Wednesday, Friday and Monday the kids will be in daycare and I will be free. Friday I have scheduled a pedicure and a new set of semi-permanent lashes (thanks, Groupon!). Aren't I fancy?? One of those days I will have to hit the mall and see if I can find some new work clothes. The rest of the time I'll probably spend crying.

Blah... The Canucks are killing me. Really. Killing me. Killing my marriage. Killing my emotional stability (whatever little I have left). Killing my bottle of Ativan. Also, I can't keep drinking like this!! Would they just win the Stanley Cup already!? Steve is unable to communicate during a game or in the days following a loss. And things get snippy and edgy in our house if they do not win. Tomorrow is the biggest night in Canuck history. I just hope and pray that they can win the cup. It literally means so much to us. And I can't afford a divorce lawyer if they don't. I am also not sure we can afford to live off disability cheques if Steve goes off the deep end, takes to his bed and can no longer attend work - in the event of a loss.

Blah... Tonight I am going into the city for an Italian wine tasting/lesson, taught by my good friend Wine Snob . I've always wished I knew more about wine, so to go to a lesson/tasting that is taught by a dear friend is a bonus. I'm meeting a couple of girlfriends and there is talk of going for a bite to eat afterwards. How good does all that sound right about now? Pretty damn good.

Spice Jars

2011-06-12T17:07:00.003-07:00

Initially, I would label myself as a non-crafty person but I guess that's not entirely right. I've made a few things - including a pink graduation cap when Ruby turned 6 months old and "graduated" from our Mommy/Baby group (don't worry, I'm rolling my own eyes at myself right now). I also transformed a baby lion costume into a baby Big-Bad-Wolf costume to go with Ruby's Red Riding Hood Halloween costume (which I bought). Ok, I also fashioned myself a Granny costume to go along with the theme and to try to bag myself a few chocolate bars whilst trick-or-treating this past Halloween. I also used to cross stitch and at one point in my life I used to knew how to knit. I used to be able to draw too.

So I guess my lack of crafting comes from lack of time and energy and also lack of crafts that I actually want to spend my "spare" time doing.

One thing I also didn't spend my time doing over the past year was being the mom that made her kid baby food. I did it for about a two week span and then decided I wasn't organized enough / didn't have the time / couldn't be bothered.

So one day when I was surfing the internet (instead of making baby food) I came across this awesome idea. And since I'd been saving baby food jars, I already had the first thing I needed!

Last Friday I decided that I was finally going to go ahead and do this thing. I have THE smallest (and most crowded) kitchen on the planet so clearing out the cupboard where I keep my spices would free up some much needed cupboard space.

So off I headed to the craft store - to which I am a stranger and felt totally out of place trying to find the supplies I needed. Total cost of the supplies was $60. And that included this... thing, which I bribed my kids with to stop crying and whining and ripping items off the shelves of Michaels...

It also included this cool hot glue gun which I didn't really need but wanted...

Once home I took stock of my spices - and I had a lot of them. More than I realized because they were crammed into a cupboard where I couldn't see half of them...

And then I made sure I had enough jars, which I most certainly did (and then some)...

So after the kids were in bed and I had a glass of wine poured, I got to work cutting out labels. The god forsaken, millions of god damned circles. By the time I was done, my gnarled hand had to be pried free of the scissors.

There is not enough wine in the world to make me want to cut out that many circles ever again. (Beer maybe, but not wine.)

That was when the realization hit me that this project was not going to be finished in one day. Or two for that matter.

The next day I utilized the kid's nap time to cut out the paper strips for wrapping around the jars, wrote out the labels for each spice and used Mod Podge for the first time in my life. For the record, I think Mod Podge is cool shit. I will have my eye open now for other things I can Mod Podge around the house.

I tried to do some gluing of labels and wrappers in the afternoon when the kids were awake but then they made themselves a self-serve cereal buffet and I had to stop...

(At least the whines of "I'm huuuuungry" stopped for a while.)

When bedtime FINALLY came last night, I got busy Mod Podging and was able to complete the jar portion of this ordeal...

Finally, today I had Steve run interference while I finished the lids. This was trickier than I thought. Turns out the two sticks of glue that came with the cool hot glue gun were enough for about 3 lids.

And then the glue wouldn't adhere to the lids. Or I wasn't fast enough on the glue gun draw.

Whatever, either way I had to go back to the store to find an alternative. I ended up picking up some "LocTight" superglue which worked awesome.

Then, it was all done except for transferring the spices into their new jars. During this time I had odd and sudden cravings for garlic bread, butter chicken, souvlaki and pumpkin pie. I also discovered that baby jars will shatter when dropped and that garlic powder is oddly "sticky" on a tile floor.

In the end, I am extremely happy with the results. I think they look cool, they're functional and they've given me more cupboard space.

There is actually many more than shown here, I ended up with 35 jars of spice.

So I guess the summary is that I do have the ability to be somewhat crafty, should I find the ~~wine~~ time, and need for the item I am crafting.

Note: I did exactly as directed on this blog post. The only thing I changed up, as I mentioned, was the glue used to attach the magnets to the lids. It's a great project but as she says in this post (which I obviously didn't read until it was too late), it takes a bit of time and only a little skill.

On Quitting

2011-06-10T14:54:00.003-07:00

Lately I've had thoughts of quitting Weight Watchers.

I tell myself the following:

*I was on a plateau for two weeks, it's too much work to continue for nothing.
*I've lost 26lbs now anyways, I look just fine.
*There's too much stress right now, if I cut this out I'd have less to worry about.
*I just want to have a fucking beer (or 5) and not worry about tracking the stupid points for it (them).
*I can't afford it. Quitting would save money.

That's the loudest voice speaking those words. That voice is stifling the quieter voice who is down a little deeper, who knows better.

That voice says:

*Even on a plateau, it's not for nothing. I am being good to my body, eating well and exercising. And the plateau did just break and look! Now you're over 26lbs lost! Plateaus always eventually break if you keep working at it. Giving up certainly doesn't break plateaus. It's always worth it to push through.
*26lbs is great (it's fucking awesome!) but there is more to lose before I am at a good, healthy weight. I look "fine" now, but I could look (and feel) better.
*Cutting out WW might reduce some stress, temporarily. But when weight starts creeping back on, what will the stress level be like then? It will be high, I can assure you.
*I want to drink beer freely with reckless abandon? That's a good reason to quit? Really?
*Yes, I'd save money if I quit. But don't I deserve this? Don't I deserve to pay some money each month to help me take good care of myself? I think I do.

Ok, I feel better. I just needed to let the quieter voice get her chance on the soapbox.

I can't quit now.

This is the one thing that is for ME and only ME. Everything else I do is for the other people in my life. How could I give this one thing up? No, it's not easy. Especially now with the extra stress (and the playoffs) but nothing worth having comes easy. The things you work the hardest for are the most rewarding.

So I must keep on keeping on. And I will.

Impending change

2011-06-08T12:18:00.003-07:00

There is now less than two weeks sitting between today and the day I return to work.

Sometimes I look forward to it.

Sometimes I am completely overwhelmed with the absolute enormity of change that is about to occur. The bottle of Ativan is draining at an alarming rate, and I have drowned my stress in potent potables more often in the past few weeks than I, a respectable mother of two, care to admit.

Just under the wire, I have secured a good daycare. This is one huge, HUGE weight lifted off my shoulders. I felt literally lighter after having checked this big stresser off my list. We did a test run yesterday for a couple of hours and it went off without a hitch. The kids will now go two days full time next week (while I'm still home) and then full time starting the following Monday. And I return to work on the Tuesday.

There are so many details that I feel need to be taken care of to ensure a smooth transition, my head feels like it might explode sometimes. In particular, last night when at 10pm my eyes would barely stay open and I shut off the light, rested my weary head on the pillow, closed my eyes and BLAM! A trillion thoughts bombarded my head! After about 10 minutes, I flicked the light back on and read my book to try to override the craziness in my head.

And again at 3am when Lincoln sighed in his sleep and I heard it through the monitor, causing me to wake up and once again the flood gates to Crazy Town were open.

Everybody knows that nothing is solved at 3am. And really, I know thoughts of what I'm going to put in the kids lunches each day can probably wait until daylight, preferably the next time I'm at the grocery store.

I'm trying to go easy on myself and just feel what I feel and do what I do and roll with it all. The reality is that of the past 30 months, I have spent 24 of them on maternity leave. The only 6 months that I was actually in the work force over the past two and a half years, I was pregnant and putting in my time until I was done again. In all honesty I wasn't sure at that time if I would return to my job (or if my job would still be there - it almost wasn't).

June 21st is going to be the end of an era, so to speak. The end of my time at home with my babies. I think I've made the best of it, despite some major challenges, difficulties and even heartache. I think I've done a great job with them. I think I've made some great kids that I can be proud of. And I think I'm ready to move forward into real life and the real world.

I'm not a person who is overly resistant to change. I often welcome it, enjoy it even. I think we need change in our lives to stay fresh and alive and thinking.

But this is a lot of change. A lot of BIG change.

Again, I'm not resistant to it. I'm just struggling in the anticipation of it all.

Isn't the worst part of impending major change the anticipation of it? Because once it happens, it just happens. It will be what it is going to be. And a million sleepless nights will not change any of it.

I will be doing my best to just enjoy the time I have left, and, to be as prepared as I can be to make it as easy on everyone as possible. What else can I do?

Meant-To-Be Daycare?

2011-06-06T11:09:00.004-07:00

Saturday night an opportunity arose for me to go interview a daycare. I almost didn't go. The Canucks game was on, I'd had a beer, had a shitty day, and I was feeling very disheartened in the daycare department. I thought I knew what daycare I would likely be using - the Irish grandmother who was recommended by my previous daycare provider. Why waste everyone's time?

But then... I don't know, I just thought "What the hell". This daycare was only halfway around the block from my house and I could probably make it there and back in the first intermission of the hockey game.

So Lincoln and I headed over there to check it out.

I was FULL of skepticism. I had made up my mind that I was not going to like this daycare and I totally wouldn't believe anything the daycare lady said. I threw everything at her I could. I told her about Lincoln being a mama's boy and how he and Ruby both would need extra attention in order for them to get comfortable and adjust. I told her they'd cry a lot when I left. I told her we'd been "kicked out" of a daycare before because Ruby had such bad separation anxiety. I told her about Lincoln's sleep issues and how he would require a sound therapy machine at nap time. I told her Ruby was a fussy eater. Lincoln is still taking bottles...

She was cool about all of it. She was confident. She had reasonable answers and potential solutions. She has a history of working with kids overcome separation anxiety.

The facility was SPOTLESS. I mean absolutely spotless. Everything was brand spanking new and sparkling clean. She had pictures on the wall of the other kids that go there. She has a bachelors degree in physical education. She has three teenage kids - a son whom just got accepted at UBC, and two daughters (whom I fantasize could become babysitters for say, a Saturday night some time?). There is a well kept outdoor play area complete with a baby swing, and a sandbox. She has another woman who also works for her. I like that she's got help and backup should she ever need to have a day off. She told me her daycare is never closed. (The Irish Granny has already warned me she is closed the first two weeks of July. What would I do then??). She showed me the structured daily schedule, and the fun days they have planned for each month (Pyjama Day, Fathers Day, Halloween, etc). She said she takes lots of pictures throughout the year and gives the parents a slide show on CD at the end of the year. She said she tries to get them prepared for kindergarten as best she can.

I spent more time there than I had intended (missing much of the 2nd period). I wanted to stay there longer. Slowly I got more and more comfortable and felt more and more excited about all the good things I was seeing. I liked this woman more with every minute I spent with her.

It's a little pricier than the Nightmare Daycare and she does not provide lunches (but does provide breakfast, snacks and drinks) - but to have my kids in a place where I know they are well cared for, is worth paying much more. (Steve is looking at taking a weekend job.)

The daycare is so close to our home. It would take more time to strap my kids into their car seats than it would to walk them to the daycare. She also told me that her teenage daughters would be happy to walk the kids home on odd days if I'm tired or busy.

She gave me registration forms and a glossy, color booklet detailing her policies and procedures for the daycare. Color me impressed.

Mommy instincts are telling me this is the place.

I did have an appointment to meet with the Irish Granny this evening but she just called me to tell me that she is indeed taking the first two weeks of July off and she will be closed for that time. What would I do? I would only be back at work for 2 weeks so it's not like I could take 2 weeks vacation. I think she's also a little bit "old school" and mostly just does daycare to look after her own grandchildren. I feel like perhaps she might be more like a daily babysitter (I trust she'd be a good babysitter) and less of a structured, educational daycare.
In my efforts to simplify my life as much as possible and cut out the unnecessary (and to go with my instincts)- I decided to cancel tonight's appointment and just go forth with the daycare around the corner.

I can not even begin to express the weight I feel lifted from my shoulders. My head feels so much less cluttered and I am less agitated and irritated and stressed. There are still a load of things that need to be taken care of and we are still about to undergo and HUGE transition but the fact that I can feel good about who and where my kids are going to be cared for is a GIANT relief.

I truly believe that things work out for a reason. All the stress I had been feeling in the past couple weeks were greatly due to me trying to push down my instincts on this daycare that we had originally set up. I tried to tell myself it would be fine but I never really did feel good about it (except for the fact that I wouldn't have had to make lunches). And so last Friday when I got up early and went out for a run in an effort to work out some of the stress - I came up with the idea to send them for a test run for two hours while I got groceries. It was all I needed to confirm my feelings and despite not having a backup plan, putting an immediate end to any future with the horrible "daycare". And now, only a few days later - I'm in a much better place already.

This whole situation makes me realize that I need to trust myself more. Go with my gut when my gut tells me something. LISTEN to myself and my thoughts and feelings. Stop trying to suppress the voices in my head (well, some of them anyways).

Nightmare Daycare - Part 2

2011-06-04T09:48:00.002-07:00

Anyone remember the absolute hell I went through when I was going back to work after my maternity leave with Ruby was over? It was not nice. Very stressful. I did end up finding a good daycare where Ruby was well cared for and eventually even became like a member of the woman's family. Sadly, that woman closed her daycare when we no longer needed her services when I went on my second maternity leave.
I've been carrying around a lot of stress lately because my mat leave is ending and I am terrified of any sort of repeat.

Sadly, we are not off to a good start.

Months and months ago, Steve hooked up with a woman he works with who was going to hire a nanny. She suggested we do a nanny share. We'd pay half of what it would cost to send two kids to daycare and would take our kids to her house each day and her nanny would care for our kids. Sounded like a good deal... in theory. However, I didn't feel great about the situation. This woman's kids would be in school every day and I really wanted my kids to be in a more social situation. The other family lives clear across town in the opposite direction of my work, it would add serious time to my morning commute. But one of the biggest problems was the nanny. First she was from Germany. Then she was from Austria. Then she was Chinese. Then she was coming from Taiwan. She was going to be here in March. Then she didn't have her paperwork done so she wasn't able to come til April. April came and the nanny didn't. But her flight was to arrive May 9th. May 10th when there was still no nanny, Steve pulled the chute. Finally he started to feel the trepidation that I had been feeling all along he called the whole thing off.

Through another person at work Steve heard of a woman who would have openings in her daycare in June. We called, she sounded very nice. We visited. I didn't like it. I can't say it was much more than mother's instinct but I felt apprehensive. She was too nice. Can that be possible? I got the feeling that maybe she would say anything to get our business (our money). She also didnt' speak english very well at all - which I have a problem with. My kids are developing and learning and I worry that they'll not develop their language skills if they don't understand the woman who's caring for them. And her daycare was a little beat up (I felt bad for letting that bother me). She gave us a smoking deal though. And I didn't really have anything solid to make me say no.

I had lots of anxiety and stress worrying about sending them off to daycare.

Finally, yesterday I decided to just get on with things and send them there for a couple of hours to start getting them used to the place.

So glad I did.

Ruby was excited to go and chatted about it all the way there. But when we got there, she panicked. She didn't want to leave my side and she certainly didn't want me to leave her there. I decided to sit down and stay for a bit while Ruby got adjusted. Sitting on the couch in the daycare I started to get a sick feeling in my stomach. I saw one kid, who was about 5, fall off a toy and make a loud crash. He then scampered away on all fours - like a dog - and went and hid under a table, looking out like he was scared to death. A little while later the same kid stood in front of the daycare lady and screamed. A really high pitched scream, almost like a whistle and he didn't stop. He just kept doing it. She said something to him in Punjabi (which bugs me) and tried to shoo him away. He just kept doing it. She either didn't know how to handle it or the way she would normally handle it was inappropriate while I was there. She kept looking at me out of the corner of her eye. It felt wrong.

Finally, Ruby was distracted enough for me to leave. She cried as I went out the door.

I was gone for 2 hours. I called while I was out and the woman told me everything was just fine. Ruby only cried for 15 minutes and now she was fine.

When I returned to pick them up Lincoln was heave-sobbing and had been for a while. She had tried to feed him an ice cold bottle of milk and couldn't figure out why he wouldn't take it.

Ruby ran to me when she saw me and burst into tears again. She said, "Ruby had to go to bed!!" I eyed the woman and said, "She had to go to bed?" She said to Ruby, "NO Ruby! That was the sofa! Don't you remember??"

I knew she was lying. And holy fuck did it piss me off.

First, she made a little girl who was already scared, go into a room by herself and go to bed??? And second - that she lied about it and made out that Ruby was lying.

And I know Ruby wasn't lying. She talked about it more later and told me "that lady said go to sleep, Ruby". I asked her if she did sleep and she said "No, no machine in that room". Ruby and Lincoln sleep with noise therapy machines on. There's no way that shit was made up by Ruby. I know Ruby. She was telling the truth.

When I left, I forgot a pack of wipes and diapers.

I went back a couple of hours later to pick them up and to tell this woman that we would not be needing her services after all. I told her that her "daycare" was not a good fit for our family. It felt good to tell her in person, to her face. She didn't bat an eye though. I might as well have been telling her that the weather was going to be lovely this week.

She just said, "Ok! If you ever need me just give me a call."

Yeah, that won't be happening.

So now, I am just over 2 weeks from returning to work and I have no daycare for my two kids.

Stress much?

I have a couple of leads though. There are a couple of daycares that are very close to my house that have openings. One of them happens to have been recommended by our daycare lady that was so good to Ruby while I was between mat leaves. The other is just around the corner. I can almost see her house from my back yard - we would be considered "neighbors". I am interviewing both of them within the next couple of days.

Really hoping something good comes along. And quickly.

Driving through the fog

2011-06-02T09:40:00.000-07:00

I drank too much last night.

I was going to stop at my usual limit but it was just feeling too good to be a little bit numb and a little bit carefree and to not think about all the things that have been plaguing my thoughts lately. The kids were in bed, the Canucks game was on and I had a great music playlist rolling between periods. With every (light) beer I cracked, I got further and further from the anxiety that has been running the show around here lately. Numb. Numb. Numb. Ahhhh....

However, eventually this morning arrived. Extra early today with Lincoln up at 5:15am. I've got a headache, a kink in my neck, I'm tired and if I have to read "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" one more time I think I might lose what's left of my sanity.

Funny thing though, I feel a little more subdued and calm today. I'm a bit... sluggish, but that actually feels like a good thing. Just like you would slow your car down and be more attentive when driving on a road thick with fog, I am doing the much same with my thoughts. Does that make any sense? I feel more systematic and logical - even simplistic perhaps - and much less manic in my thought process.

And I have Sleeman Clear to thank for that? Well, that and this damn headache.

Scattered

2011-05-31T11:28:00.000-07:00

I've been forgetting lots of stuff lately. And losing stuff. And reading things wrong - like actual words that I see. And I can't seem to keep up with the housework - which makes things feel even more chaotic. I'm flying around by the seat of my pants again, in life and in my head. I've had way more anxiety attacks than I care to endure and depression has even leaked in the cracks a little. I need to get grounded. I just don't know exactly how to rein it all in and regain control. I've been looking into meditation but... heh... I don't have time to learn it and then actually put it into practice. And I certainly can't afford therapy sessions. So for now, I'm writing some of this shit out of my head...

~ June starts tomorrow. I go back to work in June. I need to start getting the kids used to their new daycare. I want to break them in slowly - starting ASAP, but that seems like a MONUMENTAL task. So much thought seems to need to go into it. I want to do everything right for them. I want it to be smooth. I want them to be happy and not scared and to eat and sleep properly and to not cry for their mom. Please, I do not want them to cry for their mom.

I need to get another sound therapy machine so Lincoln will nap properly while he's there. And he has a little stuffed frog that he sleeps with. What if we forget it one day??? And will Ruby will eat properly and use the potty? I hope the daycare lady is compassionate if they struggle for a while. I hope the other kids are nice.

Getting up every morning and getting them both ready to go for the day is another big one. What time will I have to get up? What time will I get them up? What all needs to be done before we leave the house each day?

I know that working full time and sending kids to daycare is a part of life for most people. Millions of women do it. And maybe I'm just grasping at some positive angle in this but I do think Ruby is ready for it. I think she needs more stimulation and structure and socialization than I can provide her at this point. And I like to tell myself that Lincoln will be fine because he will be with his sister (whom he adores). But I'd be a fool to think there's it's all going to be seamless and painless.

The anxiety is coming on strong while I write about this topic. It's a huge thing for me to think/panic/worry about. I work really hard every day to raise happy, healthy, behaved kids. Now I have to hand that responsibility over to a stranger. It's such a mega change and I suppose hard for me to let go of the control that I have over their daily lives.
~~~

~ As for me actually returning to work - if I'm totally honest, I'm almost looking forward to it. I'll be using my brain again. I will get to wear something other than sweat pants. I can pee in a bathroom all by myself!!! Nobody will be hanging off my arm stealing chunks of food from my lunch - only to chew it up and spit it on the floor. I will actually GET a lunch break. Perhaps the best part? Nobody at work is going to ask me to watch them and sing to them while they take a poo! The thoughts of it are very exciting. Still, it's going to be a transition getting used to going to work again and getting into a routine and getting comfortable with my job.
~~~

~ Lincoln is refusing to eat any food that is offered to him via spoon. He must eat everything with his bare hands. This makes my brain work a little harder at trying to think of what to feed him. Also, he is bloody well MESSY! He slobbers and mashes and grinds his chewed up food into his hair, his face, his clothes, his highchair, the floor... basically everything within a 10 foot radius. The amount of housework this has added to my life is exponential.
~~~

~ The Canucks, our beloved Canucks have made it to the Stanley Cup finals. They last played last week. The final round doesn't start until tomorrow. It feels like a really long time to wait between games. We lose our hockey momentum a bit. I know we'll get it back as soon as game day arrives. I guess I have become somewhat addicted to the excitement and adrenaline and something to cheer for that has been with us while riding the wave of our team making it this far in the playoffs. It feels really good. But damn, lets get on with it already!
~~~

~ The weather has really sucked this spring. We have been stuck indoors a lot. It gets tiring. It gets cabin feverish. And it's extra work to get out of the house. It's also depressing.
~~~

~ Money is TIGHT. Ugh. It's brutal. Two back-to-back years of maternity leave wages plus any debt that we were already carrying prior to that (Hello, $20,000 worth of IVF treatments)... It's getting really hard to make ends meet. Adds stress to absolutely EVERYTHING.
~~~

~ And finally, I am now absolutely consumed with thoughts of Madison Scott and her family. Madison lives in the town where I was raised. I know and am close with some of her family. I can not imagine what they are going through. It is gut wrenching and very disturbing. Please, Lord. Bring Madison home safe.

~~~

Phewf...

My Gain

2011-05-27T14:05:00.001-07:00

I gained a little weight over the long weekend. And by a little weight I do mean a little. Half a pound to be exact.

I know, hardly worth batting a false eyelash over.

Actually I figured it would likely be more than that. Surely you can not get away with eating a plate of Chinese food in a hotel bed while watching Saturday Night Live after drinking a few more beers than usual without paying a price. Considering I had a danish with my coffee each morning and pasta salad tossed in oil (*gasp*) for lunch? I'm feeling like I got off lucky with the half pound gain.

Normally after such a weekend I would steer clear of the scale for a good week. Usually I have something else very important to do on weigh-in night after such a weekend. Something like burying my head in the sand, or making a list of excuses for why I "deserved" to blow off the diet. But for whatever reason I faced the music and headed on down to the WW meeting to be accountable. (Ok, I desperately needed to get away from the kids for 20 minutes).

Then I came home and ate this for dinner:

I'm totally back on track. Actually I was back on track the day after I got home. The fact of the matter is that long weekends, special occasions, off days, etc. are all a reality of life. They happen and they should be enjoyed. Sure I could have stayed on plan for the long weekend, bringing my kitchen scales with me and getting up every morning to go for a jog and writing down everything I ate... but I simply didn't want to. I wanted a fun, worry-less, enjoyable, indulgent weekend. And I got it. And I DID enjoy it.

I've kicked ass so far. And I have no intention of giving it up. I work so hard at it every day. If I never took any sort of a break from it, I likely would have worn out my enthusiasm and determination to continue long ago.

I do enjoy eating healthy. I do love jogging (no, really, I do) and walking. I love eating vegetables. I love sweating my ass off. It all makes me feel very good about myself in so many ways. However, I do also enjoy drinking too many cold beer in the sunshine and filling up on a greasy hotdog and a bag of chips once in a while. All in moderation. Too much or too little of either just wouldn't work. Both sides of it, balanced out with just the right ratio are what real life, and (successful weight loss) is all about.

So what I really gained was great memories, a fun weekend, enjoyment and a readiness to keep on going when it was all over.

Long Weekend Me

2011-05-24T15:29:00.006-07:00

We went away this long weekend. Steve played in an annual soccer tournament. I had originally thought we'd all go - as a family. Then I'd changed my mind, thinking that toting two little kids around would be too much work. Then a week before he was to leave, I woke up and realized that if I didn't go then I would be a single mom for 5 days. Weighing out what would be worse, I decided we'd join him after all.

The only catch was that he had already planned to leave a day early to go golfing with one of his teammates - meaning I would have to do the drive to Vernon alone, with two kids.

I actually did quite well. I packed the van myself, like it was a real life game of Tetris. Loaded the kids with toys and snacks. Stopped often. I was very organized. The kids were decently behaved. Someone was watching over us, I'm sure.

The weekend was good. We had a good time. Kids got to go swimming and see and experience different things. We got some sun (glorious sun!!). Steve said he was happy that we went.

I was happy that we went.

I had an interesting time. I discovered some things about myself. Good things...

Most of my life I've said that I don't care what people think of me but if I'm going to be totally honest, that's not very true. I've been self conscious and unsure. I would think (maybe imagine) that people are always judging me. I would strive to be funny and crazy and cool - as to attract a certain crowd of people and "impress" everyone. I would dress a certain way. I would say certain things. Do certain things. Things that weren't necessarily who I wanted to be but I don't know if I knew any better.

I've felt myself changing over the past few years - probably much of it comes from becoming a mother. But some of it also comes from not having things too easy. It's really hard being a mom of two kids 18 months apart. Harder than I could ever put into words. You do things, you sacrifice things, you make things work, you let things go, you miss things, you give things up. You also realize that you can do things that you never would have or thought you could have done before. It's your only choice. You have to, no matter how hard or uncomfortable or inconvenient. Because it's not about you anymore. And you learn to accept it and be proud of your accomplishments and appreciate the little things. You realize you are stronger and tougher and more resilient than you would ever have imagined.

Having vertigo for 7 weeks also changed me. There is something about having a debilitating illness - in your HEAD - that changes you. I totally get how people are different after concussions or car accidents. It's life changing. It really is.

Two IVFs, depression, weight gain, back-to-back pregnancies and everything in between? It's all just added to it. Added to the personal change.

So this weekend, when I found myself in the midst of a group of people that I mostly didn't know, I was surprisingly confident, calm, laid back and self assured.

I was just... me. I didn't try to impress. Couldn't have cared less what people thought of me (for real) and if they liked me or not. There was even a clique of women who have been on this trip every year for many years and who have known each other for a very long time - I didn't bother to even try to get in on their game.

I just did my own thing. Sometimes sitting by myself in the middle of the party, just taking it all in. Enjoying myself. I mean, enjoying MYSELF - my own company. Just being myself.

Interestingly enough, I found that eventually people came to me. Even the clique wanted to hang with me. I had some great conversations. Some good laughs. I met some really fun and nice people. I had a good time. My demeanor drew people to me. By the end of the trip I had met a whole bunch of new people and was known by most everyone there - and strangely enough, not for any of my "Girls Gone Wild" antics - but for just being myself.

Turns out I'm quite likable when I'm just me. Huh. Who knew?

Today is our first full day home and I've been busy doing laundry and emptying duffel bags and catching the kids up on sleep. Aside from being tired and a little bit sunburned I feel pretty good inside. I spent the weekend being the person I am, and I have nothing to regret or wish I'd done differently.

That's a pretty cool thing.

Good Karma Van Repairs

2011-05-14T17:59:00.005-07:00

I know I'm not the only who who absolutely HATES having to have any repairs or maintenance done on my vehicle. I hate the inconvenience a lot. Steve and I still share one vehicle and if we have to take it in to be fixed and NEITHER of us can use it? Big freakin' pain in the ass for a 4-person family. Even more than that, I hate the cost. I HATE paying my hard earned pennies for someone to fix/replace/repair anything on my vehicle. Tires, brakes, oil changes... right down to fueling up with GAS! I hate it all.

And since one of Steve's most prominent characteristics is procrastination, this doesn't bode well for our vehicles.

Oil changes tend to go far, far past the recommendation of 5000 kms. We run on fumes until we MUST gas up. We pretend we can't hear that obnoxious squealing every time we hit the brakes.

Which brings me to our most recent repair. Brakes.

Those babies have been squealing for months. I'm not exaggerating. Neither Steve nor I would speak of it for a long time. Eventually I got to the point where I brought it up. He claimed he didn't know what I was talking about. Said he couldn't hear it. Really? Now that is some good denial.

I mean, if I was in the back of the house, running water for a bath, had the music on, and was running the vacuum at the same time? I could still tell when he pulled in the driveway.

Scrrrrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaach!

So finally, when we decided to take a road trip with the kids, for safety reasons we could not live in denial any longer. Those brakes needed to be fixed. Pronto.

Naturally we argued about it. How bad it was. If we'd now worn through the brake pads down to the roters. How much it was going to cost us. How we'd pay. Who would take the van in. What day would work best. How we'd pay for it. Who we would get to fix it.

My vote was for Fountain Tire. It's a few blocks away so I could drop it off and then walk home. And if it cost us an arm and leg, at least we'd get Airmiles for it.

Steve went against my wishes and decided to take it to Newton Auto Care upon the suggestion of a few people at work. He was told they were the cheapest place around. Which I figured meant that they would do shoddy work and then razzle dazzle us with how they had to do more than we'd needed but they'd only charge us for two arms and no legs. I braced myself for a rip off.

Even worse, the appointment was for 8am this morning. SATURDAY morning. And Steve would have to likely hang out for a few hours until the work was done. There goes my Saturday.

Last night, Steve tossed and turned. And since we don't have the bowling ball / glass of red wine mattress, I also had a shitty sleep. He was so worried about how much this was going to cost us that he had a hard time sleeping.

Naturally I woke up edgy.

He left at 7:50am with a promise he'd call with an update when he had it.

At 8:20am he called and asked if I'd like the good news or the bad news first.

I picked bad news. (I always pick the bad news first so I can be "cheered up" with the good news)

His response? "There is no bad news. This isn't going to cost us a dime"

Whaaaaaa???

Apparently Newton Auto Care took the tires off and looked at the brakes and found that there was some dirt and debris that needed to be cleaned out - but that they were in really great shape. So they cleaned things up, put the tires back on and sent Steve on his way - NO CHARGE.

NO CHARGE!

Uh, this just doesn't happen. It's unheard of. We always pay through the nose.

AND he was home in 45 minutes!

I am beyond thrilled! Truly blown away.

No really, this has rocked my day.

As it turns out, this business is already well known for it's great service, low prices and good karma mechanics.

Really, when you think about it - there are so many car mechanic shops out there that overcharge and take advantage of unknowing people. What a cool way to run a business. Honesty and the odd freebee. Because even if someone else was honest about what needed to be done to our brakes, they still would have charged megabucks for every single second my van spent in their posession. Plus parts. Plus labour. Plus enviro fees. Plus appointment booking fees. Plus accounting fees. Plus coffee break costs.

Again, they charged us NOTHING!

I don't know, I think this is the shit.

Guess where I'm going for my next oil change? (which was due 3000km ago)

May Monday Misc (Part 2)

2011-05-09T11:04:00.001-07:00

~Started my Monday morning with a jog. It sucked. I felt heavy and foggy and tired and my legs didn't want to co-operate. Why is it that some times the jogging feels soooo good and I feel like I could go forever and never stop, and other days I feel 20lbs heavier and my body and mind just won't cooperate? Buuuuuut... I did get out and and exercise at 6:30am on a Monday morning none the less. So I suppose a shitty jog is better than none at all.

~Linc decided he doesn't want oatmeal for breakfast anymore. So I fed him yogurt instead. Then I tried to trick him and slip a couple spoonfuls of oatmeal in his mouth. Well the trick was on me because he threw it up, all of it. Oatmeal, yogurt and his bottle of milk he had earlier. Big thick, stinky, sticky mess. So I stripped him and left him naked to protect himself against his sister and I hauled the highchair outside and turned the hose on it. It cleaned up beautifully and now I'm just hoping for a bit of warmth out there to dry it out. ALL kids stuff should be able to be cleaned that way. To my neighbors: You're welcome for the entertainment of watching me pressure wash a highchair in my front yard at 8am.

~Ruby walked up to me earlier today with a very guilty look on her face. I thought she maybe pooped her pants or broke something. I said, "Ruby... do you have something you'd like to tell Mommy?" She quietly said, "Yes..." I said, "Ok, what is it?" And she looked at me with a guilty smirk and said, "Fuck sakes." ...which is a good reminder for me to scale back the F-bombs in front of the kids. In my defence, I cut my thumb pretty good on Saturday night, and this morning we are out of bandaids and I bumped my thumb causing it to start gushing blood and hurting like a motherfucker. Whoops, there's that word again...

~Mothers Day was a bit of a bust for me. All I wanted was to feel appreciated and to have a little quiet time to myself. None of that happened. Quite the opposite actually. It was a busy day filled with visiting my MIL, then my Mom and celebrating my dad's 60th birthday (which is all good and nice, but it's a lot of work to tote the kids around). Steve BBQ'd dinner at my parents house while he drank beer with my dad and my uncle and I looked after the kids and then drove his drunk ass home afterwards. I told him it wasn't really a great day for me and he said next year would be better because the kids would be older. He said he had a really fun day. I'm glad I could make his Mother's Day so special for him.

~I should have known it was going to be a rough one when the first thing out of Steve's mouth when we woke up that morning was not "Happy Mother's Day" but "Fuck, the Canucks lost last night".

~Struggling a bit with my eating lately. Coincidentally I've also been struggling with my mood. Yeah, I realize the two are securely tied together and once I get my head in order, I'll be good with the food again. Just feeling like I'm barely hanging on to my eating plan right now. Also had some really sad days where I just would like to be alone to sort things out in my head and maybe cry it out a bit. It's hard to find the "right time" (or any time) to do that.

~Looking even more at my return to work and starting to set some plans in motion. We had a nanny-share planned but my gut didn't feel right about it. Now due to a few different circumstances it looks like it's not going to work out after all. Even though we're left with finding care for the kids on shortish notice, I feel relief for some reason. I don't know why but I never felt right about the nanny thing and I'm glad we're not going forward with it. So today we are going to look at a daycare. My fingers are crossed that it works out and that I get a good feeling from it. The woman has openings as soon as the beginning of next month. I would fully intend on taking advantage of that and getting the kids used to going there ASAP to make the official transition easier on all of us - as I don't return to work until near the end of next month. She has offered us a decent deal on the cost and it's relatively close to Steve's work. Perhaps eventually HE would be responsible for drop-off and pick-up? Wouldn't that make my life easier!!! Whoa now, I shouldn't go counting chickens just yet. I've also looked at changing my return to work date to a week earlier and on a Tuesday instead of a Monday. That way I start with a shorter week to break be back into the "real" world. Trying hard to figure ways to make it less traumatic for everyone. Maybe those sleepless nights with a busy mind will pay off after all.

Recipe: Beef and Yam Stew

2011-05-04T16:00:00.000-07:00

Have you ever looked through your recipe books wanting to make something but totally boycotting certain recipes because of weird ingredients or just simply because you've never had that food before?

Well one day I went through one of my recipe books and decided to make something different.

SOOOO glad I did. I picked the Beef and Yam Stew out of the Company's Coming "Most Loved Main Courses". It is seriously the BEST thing that ever happened to my dinner table. Everyone loves it and we sometimes get into fights over the leftovers. For real.

First though, I have to tell you that you must NOT let the ingredients scare you away - even if they seem icky or weird to put in a stew.

Second, this isn't an overly WW friendly meal at 14 points per 1 cup serving - however, it is a complete meal in one dish. I do think you could totally trim down the points a bit if you were so inclined to do so.

And now for the recipe...

Beef and Yam Stew

1 Tbsp Peanut (or cooking) oil
2 lbs Beef inside round steak, cut into 1 inch cubes

1 Tbsp Peanut (or cooking) oil
1 Large onion, chopped

1 tsp Garlic powder
2-3 tsp Ground coriander
1/2 - 1 tsp Chili powder

2 cups Prepared beef broth
1/4 cup Tomato paste

2 cups Yam (or sweet potato), cut into 1 inch cubes
2/3 cup Raisins
1/2 tsp Salt
1/5 tsp Pepper

1/3 cup Smooth peanut butter
1 1/2 cups Fresh spinach, stems removed

Heat first amount of oil in large pot on med-high. Add beef. Cook until browned on all sides. Remove from pot.

Heat second amount of oil in same pot on medium. Add onion. Cook for 5-10 minutes, stirring often, until softened.

Add garlic powder, coriander and chili powder. Heat and stir for 1 to 2 minutes until fragrant.

Add beef, broth and tomato paste. Stir. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low. Cover. Simmer for 1 hour, stirring occasionally.

Add next 4 ingredients. Cover. Simmer for about 45 minutes, stirring occasionally, until beef and yam are tender.

Add peanut butter and spinach. Stir. Heat and stir for 2 to 3 minutes until combined and spinach is wilted.

Makes 6 cups. Serves 6

May Monday Misc

2011-05-02T12:43:00.003-07:00

~ I had a lovely birthday. Kids stayed at my my parents. Steve and I sat in the glorious sunshine on a patio overlooking the ocean and sipped Killer Whale Ale and snacked on appies. We later went to a pub with one of my bestest friends and had fun dancing and singing with a Rolling Stones tribute band. We were home and in bed by midnight. Had a really fun, enjoyable time - which is why I REFUSE to allow the guilt and depression overtake me today. I know they are not genuine emotions or feelings that come from any place of remote validation, and are actually a bogus result of having more drinks that I'm used to and much less sleep than I'm used to. I will combat with my usual Monday routine of cleaning and cleansing and relaxing music and hopefully, hopefully, cooperative children.

~ I have strange, mixed feelings about Osama Bin Laden's assassination. Bin Laden was an evil man who exploited religion to spread evil and fear through the world. While I understand that his death was something that was necessary for the safety and good of the world... some of the reactions I've been seeing and hearing make me feel uncomfortable. I don't want to get too deep into this one, I know everyone has strong feelings and emotions around it and I do not wish to get into a debate or discussion on this topic. I just apparently feel a different reaction to the news than much of the rest of the world. More thinking about the ways of the world and why things are the way they are and less cheerleaders forming pyramids in front of the White house and much less chanting, "USA! USA! USA!". I guess I have a hard time feeling that this is a "happy" event. NOT that I think it's wrong that he was killed, I do think it needed to happen, I guess - but the whole thing and the reactions to it just feel... weird to me.

~ After flipping the calendar from April to May this morning, I realized a few things. My son turns one next month. And I will return to work next month. NEXT MONTH. This will bring about such huge changes in all of our lives. I am trying to anticipate as many of the changes as possible so I can at least attempt to start preparing for it now - but for the most part I don't really know exactly what to expect. I worry about the kids adjusting to spending their days with someone else - someone who is a complete stranger to them at this point. I worry about missing them and having someone else influence and guide them. I worry about my transition back into the work world. I worry that I'm the only one worried about it and therefore I carry all the burden right now. I find myself waking in the middle of the night more and more often, trying to solve problems that haven't even arisen yet. Watch for more posts about this in the future.

~ Some motherfucker tried to break in to my recently widowed Mother-In-Law's home in the wee hours of Friday morning, by attempting to bust down the door. Scared her half to death, naturally. It upset me more than I can say. I spent much of Friday in tears and laying on the couch trying to process the situation. How WRONG and unfair is that?! It seriously ate me up. Measures have since been taken to secure her home a little better and to deter any further criminal activity - although I do think it was a one-off situation. One that makes me feel sick to think about it.

~ After a beautiful day of sunshine yesterday, it's back to dreary and raining again here today. It doesn't feel good. I'm so tired of the rain. All the more reason why I need to keep busy today, and make the INSIDE of my house a happy, warm, enjoyable place. *sigh*

In a rude world, seeking random acts of kindness

2011-04-27T14:50:00.002-07:00

If I could avoid shopping with my 10 month old baby and 2 year old toddler, I would (and usually do). However, my cupboards were bare and we need to eat. I chose the quietest time of the day and week to do the grocery shopping. I planned for it all morning - orchestrating naps, diaper changes, meals, clothing and snacks in order to make it go as smoothly as possible. I wrote out a list of things I needed and I hauled ass through the store to get the outing over with as quickly as possible.

I will say that both my kids behaved outstanding. Other than a few arguments over who got to hold the box of MumMums and one hair pulling incident - they were good as gold.

Upon reaching the checkout, I chose the till with the shortest line. That happened to be till number 12. Please note, ignorant, asshole shoppers - that is TILL 12, not the 12 items or less till. (FYI: those are tills 13 and 14). So the stupid bitch behind me with 7 items who kept giving me snotty looks can go suck rocks.

Also - to the self absorbed ignorant cow in front of me who used the entire conveyor belt to hold her twelve items who stood with her arms crossed and watched me try to keep the kids happy and entertained - don't look so shocked that I gave you a firm little shove out of the way with my shoulder as I reached across your groceries to grab the order-separating stick and rammed your groceries down the conveyor belt so I could unload my cart. Sorry to jolt you out of your people watching/judging mode.

I also did my best to self-bag my groceries, while the kids asked me a million questions and tried to grab items from my cart, as fast as I could while the clerk processed other orders after me. I had $200 worth of groceries to bag. I did my best while people glared and gave me snotty looks. In my haste my bag of oatmeal broke open - spilling throughout my bags, the bread got squished, the potato chips got crushed and I broke a nail.

I even stopped packing to move my cart so the bitch behind me could get by. Instead of slipping by quickly she stopped and fiddled in her purse while I waited to resume my grocery packing. She then walked past without so much as a glance at me. Fuck off.

Not a kind word nor a smile was offered to me the entire time I was there.

Let me say that it isn't easy being a good mom. It's especially disheartening and difficult when people would rather stare and judge and be completely non-helpful with zero attempt to be the least bit friendly - because they're too self absorbed to think about offering any sort of kindness. It's a lonely and thankless job and sometimes just a small tiny kind gesture can make a world of difference in someone's day.

Because of this, I am going to make an effort to do a random act of kindness to someone - preferably a mom, because I know how hard it is and how much a little bit of kindness is so greatly appreciated.

I'm open to suggestions.

What random act of kindness could I do for another mother?

Has anyone done a R.A.K for you or have you done something nice for someone else? What was it??

Engagement Anniversary

2011-04-26T13:16:00.002-07:00

8 years ago today, unbeknownst to me, Steve phoned my father and asked for his permission to request my hand in marriage. Later that morning he took me for a walk along a beautiful wharf on a river bank, and while harbour seals played happily in the water, and the sun glinted off the waves, he slipped a ring on my finger and asked me to be his wife. He then pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and read a poem that he, himself had written just for me. He then took me to our favorite restaurant for our first lunch as an engaged couple.

As I sit here today, reflecting back over the past 8 years I have come to realize that the magical day of our engagement so many years ago, used up every, single, romantic molecule that Steve had in his body - tapping him dry for the rest of our life together.

Twenty Pounds

2011-04-23T19:57:00.000-07:00

I was brave enough to take a "before" picture of myself when I started Weight Watchers in January.

It wasn't pretty and I knew that. But I also knew that I was determined and was about to kick some weight loss ass and it would/could only get better from there.

I'm glad I took it now. I have decided to take a picture every time I lose 20lbs - which I have now done. Its nice to see how far I've come. I don't think I really realized what I looked like 20lbs ago. I suppose after my next 20lbs I'll look back at today's picture and think the same thing. But for now, I appreciate and enjoy the change in myself and am thankful for all the hard work I have done to get this far.

It is the best gift I could give myself.

Twenty pounds off my body makes a big difference. In so many different ways - not just my appearance. My physical abilities and endurance have greatly increased. My mental health has been positively affected. My confidence has risen. I have dropped two clothing sizes. I am more comfortable in my own skin.

I'm suddenly feeling a bit self conscious about posting these pictures now...

Bah! Here goes nothing...

Here's the difference 20lbs makes on a 5"2 frame.

January 2011

April 2011

Here's to the next 20!

She said, he heard

2011-04-21T09:33:00.004-07:00

Me: For my birthday this year I thought maybe the kids could stay at my mom and dad's and you and I would get a nice hotel in the city and do a little shopping during the day and then a nice dinner and maybe catch a show? Then in the morning I'd like to go for a fancy coffee at a little cafe and then head home. How does that sound?

Him: Sure.

Then... two days later...

Him: So on your birthday you wanted to take the skytrain into Vancouver and go pub hopping and then come home, right?

...In his own mind, that is EXACTLY what he heard - because that is what he wanted to hear.

Allergic?

2011-04-18T16:24:00.000-07:00

I'm allergic to something. No idea what. It seems to be lack of sleep. Is that possible?

Often after a few days of shitty or little sleep, I will experience some sort of allergy attack. My nose gets ITCHY!! Insane itchy. And I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze! And I can't breathe. And my eyes want to close. My lips get dry. My head hurts. I get cold. Then I get hot. And of course I'm exhausted because I've had a few days of shitty or little sleep and there is no option to slip in a nap.

Yesterday I OD'd on Benadryl. I normally only take it at night but yesterday my face felt like there was an active bee hive under my skin and my watery eyes would not open. I was desperate for relief so I took 2 Benedryl tablets.

Oh wow was I ever fucked up. I haven't been that stoned, ever!

Ok, well maybe that's not entirely true.

But I haven't been that stoned ever, on legal narcotics.

Ok, that might not be true either.

But it's been a REALLY long time since I've been that high - on anything, legal or otherwise. It was wild.

I sat slumped in my chair with drool running out of the corner of my mouth and snot trickling down my face while my children screamed and whined and climbed all over me and threw books at my head and my husband looked at me, disgusted, like I had just shot up heroin in front of my kids and had Ruby load the syringe while Lincoln tied off my arm. (Empathy and sympathy are not his strong suits.)

Today he told me I can't do Benadryl during the day, in front of the kids anymore.

He also seems annoyed that I'm still sick. He asked me 3 times before noon if I had tried blowing my nose? What? Blow my nose? Why, the thought had never occurred to me.

By the way, could you take out the garbage which is overflowing with USED KLEENEX tissues?

*sigh*

I have always taken great pride in the appearance of my children when I take them out of the house. I prefer to have them dressed in decent, clean, matching clothes, hair combed, faces washed. It sometimes takes a little extra effort and time to get out of the house but it makes me feel proud of them when we're out.

Today though, I needed to walk them to the store and by god I couldn't give a fuck what they looked like. Lincoln had no shoes on and had a huge, dark purple patch on his head where Ruby decided to color him with markers. Crusty, snotty nose. Runny eyes.

And Ruby... well... The hair was half in a pony tail. Same crusty snotty nose as her bro. She drew all over her arms so she could have tattoos like mom. Cute, huh? Then she wiped her snotty nose with her inked arm and smeared the blue ink from her nose across her cheek. It crusted and dried there, like thick blue snot. Her shirt was too big, her pants too small. Gumboots on the wrong feet.

Ohhhh! What adorable children you have.

I can't taste food - which might make normal people stop eating. But I can't stop feeding myself. Everything tastes the same so it would be a great time to consume extra veggies, right? No, I prefer chocolate and danishes. With coffee that burns my stomach and might as well be boiled, black, mud water.

The children are running free range and wild through the house. It takes one little squeak or whine and I will give them whatever they want. Cookies, pizza, chips, more cookies... I have allowed them to eat rice on the carpet and to draw on the kitchen floor (and each other, as previously mentioned). If nobody gets seriously injured today I will consider it a success.

I have considered ramming a wire brush down my throat to stop the itching.

If it is lack of sleep that causes this "condition" (and if it's not lack of sleep it's a very odd and strange coincidence), it's hard to recover from it since it's pretty impossible to sleep with snot running out of your nose while you sneeze 17 times in a row, your lips are cracked and dry, and you have to wake up every 20 minutes to sip water for your parched and dry mouth because you are stuffed up and mouth breathing. nose.

It's a long, slow recovery process.

Laugh

2011-04-14T14:18:00.005-07:00

The worst time in my day is between 3pm and 5:30pm (when Steve FINALLY gets home and I am no longer outnumbered by two relentless tyrants).

It's when the kids are getting tired. They are whiny. They cry. They demand. They yell. They whine. They throw shit. They don't listen. They can't behave. They whine.

The WHIIIIIIINING....

Their behavior coincides with the time of day when my patience is worn down to almost nothing. I'm tired. I'm frazzled. I'm frustrated. I'm worn the fuck out physically and mentally. I am hanging by a psychological thread, twisting in the wind, ready to snap at the drop of a hat - or sippy cup full of milk as it may be. It's the time of day when I would do just about anything for a tiny bit of peace and quiet.

The clock ticks so slowly. The chaos is intense.

Yesterday I was so worn down that I foolishly dared to sit on the couch for a few moments and tried to hear what Stevie Nicks was saying to Oprah. I just really wanted to tune out my living room and tune in to something adult in which I happened to be interested.

It was foolish of me to even try. In retrospect I should have set the PVR to record it and watch it at a more relaxed, less hectic time.

Instead, Lincoln kept fussing. Whining. Crying. I tried to feed him and he wouldn't eat. I tried to hold him and he pushed away. The only thing I could do was to put him in the jumperoo - which is noisy and obnoxious and makes it hard to concentrate on anything. He still fussed and cried loudly (on top of the sounds of the jumperoo) but at least he was contained.

Ruby had already taken my Blackberry and when I tried to get it from her she smashed it on the hardwood floor. She did the same with my camera and the house phone. When everything of value was secured out of her reach, she got bored and decided she was hungry - even though she wasn't.

"I'm hungry" ...No you're not.

"I'm hungry" ...What would you like?

"I'm HUNGRY" ...Shhhhh...

"I'M HUNGRY!!!" ...WHAT WOULD YOU LIKE, RUBY???

"Mommy, I'M HUNGRY" ...Ruby, could you go play with your farmhouse!!!?

"I'M HUNGRYYYYY!!!"

At that I got over-the-top irritated, stood up and took her by the hand to the pantry. With an angry, raised voice I said, "FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! WHAT DO YOU WANT THEN, RUBY? WHAT?! SHOW ME! TELL ME! WHAT EXACTLY DO YOU WANT?!!??"

Her solemn little face look up at me and she said one word, quietly.

"laugh"

I stopped in my tracks. "What did you say?"

"Mama, laugh."

My face fell. I said, "You want me to laugh?"

"yes"

I scooped her up in my arms and hugged her and cried a little bit. I felt ashamed for allowing myself get so frustrated.

I have less than two months to go before my maternity leave is up, I return to work and someone else will be spending all this time with my kids and I know it will break my heart and I will miss them tremendously.

I need to make the best of whatever time I have with them right now. Enjoy every minute as much as I can. Maybe we need to have a dance party during that time. Maybe we need to go for a walk (weather pending). Maybe we need to read books. Anything to pass the time more enjoyably. Do things to make us whine and cry less. Smile more.

And... as Ruby requests, laugh.

Rain, Rain, GO AWAY!

2011-04-11T13:07:00.004-07:00

When I first moved to the Lower Mainland, I used to get asked by people from my hometown in Northern BC, "How can you stand all that rain??" Cheekily, I used to respond, "I don't mind it at all! I don't have to shovel rain or scrape it off my windshield." - referring, of course, to the cold, snowy and seemingly forever lasting winters of Northern British Columbia. Once I remember bragging to my Aunt who lives in Ontario that I had just been out jogging in my t-shirt, in February.

I may have also be quoted as obnoxiously saying, "I don't mind the rain! I'm not made of sugar, I won't melt!"

It was the truth though, I didn't mind the rain. After growing up in a place where winter lasted from October to April (and sometimes longer), I was more than content to put up with the rain and maybe one or two snowfalls per year.

To the whiners? Bah, grab an umbrella, a little rain never hurt anyone.

But... In my 9th or so year of living here. I think... I think... I might be getting sick of the God forsaken, heart submerging, soul drowning, life ruining, depression inducing, motherfucking rain.

For the love of God, make it stop!!!! MERCY, I cry!!! MERCY!!!!

I have been feeling trapped in my house and depressed and sad and mad and frustrated a lot lately. Yeah, I had the big attitude turnaround last Monday but I fought the blues for the rest of the week. The asshole weather man reported that the whole week was going to be filled with heavy rain - crushing any hope I may have had for actually leaving my house or even opening my blinds.

I mean, is there anything more disheartening than hearing on Monday that there is NO CHANCE of sunshine for yet another week?

Put away the sharp knifes and hide mom's bottle of sleeping pills! I am getting depressed!

And then when the sun DOES make an appearance (however brief), what happens to me? I am so stricken with panic, feeling immense pressure to make the absolute best of this gift of light and enjoy the day to the fullest - that I end up running around my house in circles, getting nowhere until I am hugging my knees, rocking back and forth on the couch with a big fat anxiety attack.

You think I'm joking. I'm not.

The pressure was so great when the sun came out - unexpectedly - for a WHOLE DAY last week that I was so excited I made myself sick trying to figure out how to take maximum advantage of it.

I ended up sitting myself down and making a list, with shaking hand, of all the things that I wanted to do while the sun was shining - so that I could make a logical decision without random fleeting thoughts rushing my brain.

It was quite the experience.

I don't know if it's because my outings are somewhat limited by two young children and a stroller, if it's because I've been on maternity leave for two of the last two and a half years - spending more time inside my house than I ever have in my life - or if there is actually a lot more darkness and rain this year than the Lower Mainland (and myself) is used to but I really am ready for some sunshine.

REALLY ready....

Monday Cleansing

2011-04-04T14:40:00.002-07:00

I shouldn't have wasted my Saturday night stewing over how terrible Monday would be - what a waste of a few quiet hours to myself.

What I SHOULD have wasted it on was stewing over how shitty SUNDAY would be. I had wrangy kids and a tired body and mind. Drove out to watch husband play soccer in the afternoon and had to keep two little ones warm and happy and fed and entertained and calm in the freezing cold of a soggy soccer field.

Ruby kept wanting to run onto the field to see her dad, saying "Oh! There's Dada!" and then trucking off toward him with her little arm swinging in determination as if he had been missing for weeks and she had been the one to find him and bring him home.

Lincoln, who is like a cinder block with arms and legs, was only happy in the stroller for short periods of time - which means I had to pack him the rest of the time.

After 3 days of being a single mom, at a point of exhaustion I decided to just strap the miserable little brats in their car seats and head for the hills while I bawled my eyes out in pure frustration. From her carseat Ruby yelled "NO LINKY NO!!!" at Lincoln who was cry-whining in his carseat, which made him cry louder, which made me ~~yell at~~ tell Ruby not to yell at her brother, which made Ruby start fake crying - which is worse than real crying - which made me cry harder, which made Ruby cry, which made Lincoln cry.

But if you drive long enough and far enough, they eventually fall asleep. The trick is to not drive off a cliff to end the agony before you reach the promised land.

To make an ugly story short, it wasn't the happy, zen-like, lovely, family time Sunday that I would prefer.

So today, when Monday morning rolled in all dreary and wet and cold, I thought, "Oh no you don't, Monday." The time for being miserable is up. Time to kick this shit and get back on track.

I decided that we (I) would start our second round of Spiritual Spring Cleaning, which I tried one day last week thanks to a link sent to me by Shonna. On went the Galaxy channel - The Chill Lounge (432 on Shaw), which I am in LOVE with since discovering it last week. I ran the water. The toothpicks went in my pocket. The windows opened a crack to let in the fresh, lovely smell of rain. And away I went on my cleansing. (In between potty training and diaper changing, of course).

Shortly after Lincoln went down for his first nap there was a knock at the door. My dad had been rained out at work so he thought he'd come for a visit and possibly watch the kids while I hit the gym.

Oh hell yes!

After my fantastic little workout I came home in full energized mode. I felt great. Actually happy and peaceful inside. We did lunch and then while my dad entertained the kids (watched Treehouse with them), I swept and vacuumed, made baby food, wiped tables, counters, chairs and mopped. Granted I had to put my Chill music on hold until he left, but it was a sacrifice worth making.

Kids are napping now and the Chill Lounge is back on. My bare feet are padding on clean floors (however temporary that may be, I am enjoying it now). Laundry is going full force and I will be sleeping on clean bedding tonight after a hot shower to wash away the well earned sweaty smell that I am currently emanating.

I've got the rest of the afternoon to made a hot, healthy, comforting dinner for the family and to continue my whirlwind of cleansing. If I get really brave, I may even tackle a bathroom (ok, that's not going to actually happen).

After a weekend of barely hanging on to my sanity by the skin of my teeth, it feels good on my soul to exert myself in such a positive, healthy, cleansing way.

I should not have allowed the anxiety of dreading Monday to reach into my weekend and affect my Saturday night. I am making up for it now. I just hope I don't burn myself out for the rest of the week... Ah, I will worry about the rest of the week when it happens.

Enjoy your Monday.

Saturday dreading Monday

2011-04-02T20:43:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday night and I'm sitting on the couch in a quiet house - the children are sleeping and my husband isn't home.

Normally, this would be ideal. I generally really enjoy evenings to myself.

But tonight... I'm just not liking it. Feeling a bit blue in fact.

Husband is playing soccer all weekend in a town 45 minutes away. Tonight there is a soccer party for his team which he is attending and won't be making it home tonight. In fairness he did invite me along but I have no babysitter (my mom is out of town) and so I told him to go ahead without me and I took the children home after watching his afternoon game.

Usually the evening routine is shared by he and I. The feeding, the dual baths, pj's, book reading, baby bouncing, bottle feeding, playing, tucking in, and putting each of them to bed. Tonight I was the sole worker on shift. It's definitely not a first - and once in a while I don't mind. To me, the reward is a quiet evening.

Usually though, another reward is that the next morning I don't have to also be up at 6am to start all over again, on my own with the two monsters. But since he's not coming home until tomorrow afternoons sometime, I'm doing double duty again tomorrow. Starting bright and early.

I'd also be lying if I said it didn't hurt my feelings a tiny bit that he hasn't called or sent me a text at all this evening just to see how I am holding up. I know he's out there having a great time with his soccer/drinking buddies, I don't begrudge him for that, I'd just like a little love sent in my direction.

(Maybe I do begrudge just a teeny tiny bit - might as well be honest...)

I'm also a little bit lonely for some reason.

Not sure when or how he will make it home tomorrow since he is there without a vehicle and hopes to catch a ride with someone - although nobody on his team lives near us.

I know tomorrow is going to be another long day.

And do you know what the next day is? That would be Monday. Monday's suck at the best of times. But they really suck when you've been acting as a single parent over the whole weekend and haven't had a chance to decompress or hit the reset button.

So it's Saturday and I'm dreading Monday already.

How stupid is that?

Breakfast

2011-03-31T09:59:00.000-07:00

Healthy, wholesome, feel-good, delicious.

*Mushrooms, Red Onions, Red-Green-Yellow Peppers, Zuchini - stir fried in a pan.
*3 egg whites, sprinkle of Pepper, dab of Water - scrambled in a bowl & poured on top of veggies in pan.
*Cover.
*Sprinkle with light cheddar and fold in half.
*Side of WW Multigrain toast and 1tsp butter.

= Egg White Veggie Omelet and Toast.
(5 WW PointsPlus)

(Inspired by my friend Robyn's breakfast tweet this morning)

Housecleaning

2011-03-29T13:25:00.001-07:00

There has been a lot of turmoil in my life the past few months. I've been trying to manage it all as best I can but recently it bubbled up and spilled over causing a big ugly mess. A nasty, toxic, horrid mess.

Time to do some housecleaning.

Figuratively and literally.

I went through my closet a few days ago. There were a lot of clothes hanging there that I have not worn in a very long time. Some, over a year. I removed them from my closet, put them in a pile on my bed. There was a beautiful shirt that I bought a few months ago at the Gap. I bought it in XL as that was my size at the time. Since buying it, I've lost some weight and it no longer fits - however I've never had the opportunity to wear it. I regret wasting money on it but keeping it in my closet is not going to do any good. Out of the closet, onto the pile. The jeans I bought that I've been meaning to get shortened that no longer fit nicely. Onto the pile. Into the basement to be sorted through and donated.

Some things sit in your house for so long that you don't even realize that you don't have a need for them anymore. They just become a part of what you see everyday. I'm working on weeding through that stuff. For starters, the nursing pillow that I've been using to cushion Lincoln if he falls backwards. Well Lincoln is big and strong enough now he doesn't need it any more. The bouncy chair that I have sitting in the kitchen for those times when I was cooking dinner and Lincoln wanted to be able to see me? Well he's long surpassed the allowable GVW on that and it's just been stowed under my chopping block. Gone and gone. To my old nemesis, the electric breast pump that's hanging in it's carrying bag in the laundry room? Watch out, you're next.

The new blog that some friends and I started up - Food, Mood, Attitude. I'm deleting it. It's not working out how I had envisioned and I don't have the energy to keep it up - taking pictures of everything I eat and thinking of clever things to write in regards to getting healthy is taking up more time and energy than I'm willing to donate. Ironically, in part of keeping myself mentally healthy, letting this extra bit of thinking and writing go is necessary. Thank you to all who contributed and commented on this little project. I do plan on incorporating some of what I did there into this very blog, here. Getting healthy is part of my life right now and I won't be ashamed to write about it here.

While I have really enjoyed reading The Hunger Games Trilogy, I am now halfway through the final book and I'm really ready to be done with Katniss Everdeen. Enough already. I do need to finish reading this book because I need to know what happens to her and District 13 and Peeta and the fight against the Capital - but once it's done I think I will stay away from teen book series for a while and read some things a little more grown up. I've got my eye on "The Kitchen House" right now.

Cleaning and decluttering my living space opens the door to allow my my mind to be more clear and free to sort through other things. Internal things. There is a LOT in my head that needs to be cleaned and sorted and weeded out right now. The unnecessary thoughts and worries need to be swept out. I need to stop thinking and worrying about things that I can not change. Stop feeling guilty for things I am not responsible for. Let go of negativity.

In doing that I hope to open up a little more to the bit of personal spirituality that I've experienced in the past few months and the positivity that it's brought with it.

I think I'll write a little more too. I received so many positive comments on my last blog post, nudging me to be more open and write more "nakedly" again. I feel encouraged to do just that. And for those who don't approve or don't like what I say - just too bad for you. Start your own blog then and YOU can say whatever YOU like. Stop "spying" on me and judging me or using me for your entertainment.

Hmph. Just writing that makes me feel better

Naked blogging

2011-03-27T10:08:00.000-07:00

I'm afraid to write like I used to. I never thought I would be blog shy but every time I go to write a post lately I think of all the different people whom I know that read my blog and if this one would be offended, or that one would "tsk tsk" at me, or if another would roll their eyes at me and think I'm an over-dramatic wackjob.

I've always liked to write when I'm stressed or upset about things or sad or mad or frustrated or whatever. I can usually put some sort of humorous spin on it and have always been able to laugh at myself. Unfortunately the other people in my life don't always appreciate my laughing at myself - because it sometimes means that I'm also laughing at them. Or with them. Whatever. Laughing. Laughing feels good. But then it doesn't when you get in trouble for it.

And so with having to consider everyone's feelings and thoughts and judgements, it's gotten harder and harder to write freely (or nakedly as it's called in the blog world), and honestly... it's not quite as therapeutic or as fun as it used to be.

Sure I could write a bunch of fluff about my children and the weather and laundry but that would suck the life out of me as a blogger. I need to keep my edge. I need to write as me. I need to write freely.

I need to find a way to do that.

I don't really have an answer right now but I sure am thinking a lot about it lately. Changes need to be made.

Morning Coffee

2011-03-22T09:30:00.000-07:00

Am I ever looking forward to experiencing the joys that are sure to be bestowed upon me this morning after Ruby snatched my half drank cup of coffee from the table and chugged it, looking at me with her big doe eyes over the rim of the mug, wild with defiance as I ran across the room yelling "No! No! NOOOOO!".

Because 2 year olds aren't obnoxious enough!? Now she's going to be all jacked up on caffeine! And that coffee is all I have to somewhat even the playing field so that I have a raindrop's hope in Hell of surviving the day and keeping up with her and her 9 month old brother. Now the scales have been tipped dangerously in her favor.

Well, trying to look on the bright side of things maybe I can use this to my advantage. Maybe I'll get her to do the vacuuming or rearrange the furniture for me.

Follow up

2011-03-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

As a follow up to yesterday's post - apparently she learned a thing or two from that book she was reading...