Archive - 2009

1
What? You want my autograph?
2
MY BUCKET LIST…but not exactly
3
Just Bitchin’
4
A Fine Line Between “Boo Hoo” & “Whoo Hoo!”
5
I Have No Dreams
6
How Confronting My Child’s Doctor Brought Me Peace
7
The Beginning—This Is Not The Life We Ordered
8
Boo Hoo, My Baby’s No Longer Two….
9
Do You Have Spectacula Maculas?
10
Toxic Friendships

What? You want my autograph?

Last month I had the opportunity to step out of my comfort zone (like, WAY out) and film a segment for YMC T.V. The “behind the scenes” blog is here (with a link to the video segment). If Erica had asked me to do this years ago, despite her Ninja mind tricks of persuasion, I would have flat out said, “NO FRICKEN WAY am I doing that!” But, after the recent upheavals and subsequent adjustments to the course my life has taken – I’m changed. Not dramatically. Not even detectable by most, but just enough to be able to embrace the cliche, “life is short.” Really it is. Think about how many opportunities we forgo because of discomfort or unfounded fears. I knew that there was a very strong possibility that I would fall on my face and look like a complete ass working in front of a camera. I did screw up a few times in fact and said “ok” way too much, but the world didn’t end. It turned out ok. Shit. Said it again. Don’t you hate when you latch onto a word and it becomes your security phrase when you’re nervous or tired or stunned? I’m[…]

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MY BUCKET LIST…but not exactly

  I love the idea of writing a bucket list – things you want to do before you kick the bucket. It’s not as easy as you’d think. I tried. I really did. But them I got frustrated and wrote a Fucket List of traits to nix before I kick the bucket. Here they are in no particular order: 1. Stop obsessing over how the weather is going to affect my hair and just go out into the elements and live my life. Do animals give a shit what their fur is doing? No. Humans are stupid. It’s only hair! 2. Stop feeling guilty about every little thing. I’m not even Catholic. 3. Quit worrying about my car, my house, my clothes. Material things DO NOT matter. I know this, I just need to believe it. 4. Stop trying to control everything (people, schedules, household tasks, life) all the time. 5. Seeking the approval of others is pointless. Suck it up ya sensitive pansy and just get on with it. 6. Envy is ugly. So what if she’s a better writer, or he’s wittier or she’s thinner or more in shape or more successful or….fucket. Does it matter? 7. As[…]

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Just Bitchin’

I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother ~ Meredith Brooks I’m pretty even-keeled most of time. I never yell and rarely pitch a fit. I’m generally easy going, unless I’m over-tired. Or super hungry. Throw in a few hormonal spikes and I can be… unpleasant.  At first I get quiet. Which is abnormal. Eerie even. This is a warning sign. Then comes that hyper, giddy, everything is hilarious, burst of energy you have before you crash and that, right there, is when I can become a bit of a bitch. And who is in my line of fire? Surely not my children. They’re too young and innocent to face my wrath full force. No. It’s my closest friend. My soul mate. The one who is legally bound to me until death do we part. Here are the ten things he does to drive me over the edge. Poor man, but he knew what he was in for when he married me.  1. Slurping any liquid. He’s doing it right now as I’m writing this. It’s all I can do not to wrestle that mug away from his grasp and bash him over the head with[…]

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A Fine Line Between “Boo Hoo” & “Whoo Hoo!”

I put the “mental” in sentimental on more than one occasion this week. I could easily write a sappy post about the heartbreak of watching my children head off to school this fall. It’s odd, this weird mixture of nostalgia and fierce pride watching your babies grow up before your eyes. I could lament about my son starting grade one and what a caring, big-hearted little man he is becoming. I could write about how his little sister is missing her playmate desperately and about the fear I have about my daughter, post Epilepsy diagnosis, going to preschool 2x a week. I could. But instead I am going to list the things my dear children do to annoy the living crap out of me on a daily basis—the things that enable mothers to wipe away the tears, and let out an elated “Yeee-ha!” (possibly too elated, as other parents stare, aghast, as you peel out of the parking lot) as you drop off your mini-yous at school. Here is my Top Ten List…in no particular order (though number one is a major pet peeve): 1. Mimicking my every word like a myna bird with an attitude 2. Peeing in the[…]

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I Have No Dreams

I’m not talking about hopes/aspirations kind of dreams– those died the day I had children. Kidding. My dreams aren’t dead, but rather in a temporary coma. I experience dreamless sleep these days. The thing with being sleep deprived (other than the brain numbing duh-ness and scary under eye-bags) is that I don’t dream. Or possibly I do, but I’m just too tired to recall. I used to have crazy vivid dreams every night that I loved recapping the following morning. I’ve never seen my husband laugh as hard at anything than at my “re-enactment” of the dream where I was master of a parade gone horribly wrong. I’d retell it here, but it would be lost in translation without the necessary visuals and accompanying marching song. Many of my creative ideas and quirky inspirations for inventions or organizational tools came from dreams. I’ve even had prophetic dreams and had tea with deceased relatives while dreaming. For the last few months, my sleep has been dreamless. No reverie whatsoever. Not even a simple, run-of-the-mill “running in place, not getting anywhere, while completely naked at my high school reunion as my teeth are falling out” dream. Until last night. I wish I[…]

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How Confronting My Child’s Doctor Brought Me Peace

Since our daughter was little, we’ve worked with cardiologists, neurologists, therapists, orthotists, geneticists, pharmacists, speech pathologists—so many “ists.”. There was a time when I followed a specialist’s advice without question. They were the professional—the expert. Who was I to question them? That was then. Now I question everything. I research every word. I seek second and third opinions. I don’t care about the glares. I don’t care if I’m disliked. I do care about my children. They are my priority. Last week my husband took the kids to his parent’s while I hosted a party at our house. At 11:30 p.m. he phoned to say an ambulance was coming to take Avery to the hospital. She was having a seizure that wouldn’t stop. I met them in the ER. The seizure eventually stopped on its own, without medication this time. They eventually sent us home and told us to follow up with our neurologist. The following afternoon, I put Avery down for her nap. Thanks to our generous family, we now had a video surveillance camera in her room. I could see her lying in her crib on her side, staring, not blinking. I ran to her room as her eyes began repeatedly[…]

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The Beginning—This Is Not The Life We Ordered

My husband gave me a tacky beer cozy—you know those foamy cups that insulate your bottle? “This is not the life I ordered!” was written across it in neon letters. It was a silly gag gift for an occasion I can no longer recall. When our daughter was diagnosed with the genetic disorder that would change all of our lives, I dragged out the beer cozy from a box in the basement and announced that I would be using it to hold all future beverages.  The Beginning: When our daughter was four months old we had concerns. This baby, our second child, wasn’t gaining weight, she refused to nurse or drink from a bottle, and she wasn’t achieving the milestones associated with her age. By six months we were worried. By seven months we were frantic. Our family doctor (the only medical professional who actually listened to us), was at a loss. She ordered the necessary genetic testing, and in the meantime referred us to a pediatrician who I took Avery to see several times. On the last visit, near tears, I begged him to take our concerns seriously. My husband and I knew something wasn’t right. His response to my plea for[…]

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Boo Hoo, My Baby’s No Longer Two….

Teary, Blubbery, Gloomy, Snivelly, Sappy, Sucky and Sobby The new cast of the Seven-Dwarfs? More like a perfect description of me approaching my baby girl’s 3rd birthday. Maybe I was a little grumpy or even a titch witchy? No. Not really witchy (I just used that word so I could use a photo of me as the witch from Snow White!) Really, I was more of a weepy, mush-bag. I could easily write a post wrought with emotion describing how far our little girl has come. How she’s faced obstacles and countless trips to hospitals and appointments with a smile and that giggle of hers that makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I could go on about how her daddy and I burst with pride every time she accomplishes a goal or does something that she was never “supposed” to be able to do. I could. But I won’t. Every parent’s child is special. Every parent bursts with pride on a daily basis. And, every parent feels sentimental on their child’s birthday. I’m no different. This year my husband, 6 year old son and our dog Roger (What? He’s totally part of the family) made[…]

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Do You Have Spectacula Maculas?

  Three nights ago I went a little bit blind. Friday Night after Cardio Boot Camp I logged onto Twitter and noticed that my fellow tweeters were making an LOT of typos–leaving out letters and even whole words. I felt smug. At least I wasn’t the only one who made “twypos”! Then I realized they hadn’t. It was me. My eyes were all wonky. It was looking through broken glass that had been smeared with Vaseline. My husband suggested it was eye strain. That sounded reasonable since I’d been on the computer a lot. As I was contemplating this, things worsened. I suddenly saw wiggly white lights flashing from the centre of my eyes, outward. I freaked out and ran upstairs. Not the smartest move in retrospect. The vision impaired should refrain from running up stairs. I went to bed, shut my eyes tight, and hoped I would see things clearly in the morning. If I had been having a stroke or some other medical emergency, ignoring these symptoms could have been well, not good. In the morning my vision was back to normal, with the exception of those annoying floaties passing across my field of vision. I reported this to[…]

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Toxic Friendships

  A small rant if I may? One long, deep, cleansing breath. Inhale and… …girlfriends. Can’t live without them. Well you could, but life would be a bore. Plus who would give you the straight-up truth in the RW & Co. change room about what those pants REALLY do to your bum? You really can’t afford to go through life without some solid women by your side. They build you up when you’re low, and come along for the ride when you’re riding high. But what if they don’t? What happens when a friendship takes a turn or just plain fizzles out? We’ve all had our hearts stomped on; our confidence shredded into tiny shards by men in our lives at one time or another. But what about the bosom buddies in our lives? When a friendship turns toxic it can do some pretty serious damage. Life has been stressful since our daughter’s diagnosis. Like hair falling out, stomach ulcer, insomnia, panic attacks, kind of stressful. For the most part friends have rallied and have really been there for us despite their own busy lives. I can’t even begin to thank them for that support. Sadly, there have been disappointments.[…]

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