Monday, November 30, 2009


The Hurricane got a "cell phone" with his kid's meal from Wendy's.  Wouldn't you know it, he was getting hang up calls almost right away.  So inconvenient when your imaginary conversations with your imaginary friends are being interrupted by imaginary calls and when you answer these intrusive imaginary calls, nobody is there.  How rude.

The Princess has added a ton of new words to her vocabulary; shockingly, none of them are curse words.  Her favorite stuffed cat is now known as "Puppy."  She is saying, "Hap, mama" when she needs help. With the help of the Hurricane, pee, poop, and butt are becoming more common.  NO!, MINE!, and I DO! are also still in heavy rotation.  She used to be shy on the phone, now she is more than happy to hold an extended conversation completely in Baby Gibberish.  No, don't worry, you don't have to do any of the talking.  As a matter of fact, if you are on the phone with her, don't count on getting any words in. 

Little Dude has discovered a Super Awesome Really Fun way to give mommy a HEART ATTACK.  Stand up in your high chair and turn around.  Then lean waaaay over the back of the high chair so you can touch stuff.  When you get tired, just sit down on your high chair tray.  Eat some snack.  Repeat. Wait for your mom to turn around and DROP DEAD FROM FEAR. If you don't want to scare mom by letting her find you standing up, then you can slide your legs down and get your fat butt stuck under the tray with both legs wedged in on the same side of the divider.  Then squeal like a.. well, like a stuck piglet.

Little Dude is also using the dining room chairs to walk; he got himself stuck underneath the table today. It's probably not very nice to laugh at a baby, but I did.  I have discovered that the word "Snack" will distract him from whatever is making him cry; the downside is that I really do have to give him a snack.  The way this kid is eating, it's going to be expensive.  I may have to pimp him out Toddlers & Tiaras* style so I can afford to feed him.

*Seriously, 4 year olds with spray tans? This is what your children will look like:

"Next time I won't point all the jets at my face."

Friday, November 27, 2009

I found even more stuff wrong with me.

So I'm at the doctor's office the other day, waiting patiently ("patient"ly, get it?) in the exam room, and I notice a sheet entitled Therapeutic Management of Hormone Excess and Deficiency with Marvelon or something similar.  Basically, it's a graph sheet showing estrogen, progesterone, and androgen levels at different times of the cycle, along with other signs and symptoms that the birth control pill, Marvelon, (aka Alesse) can help alleviate.

Curious, I started reading it.  I was surprised to discover that I am Estrogen Deficient:

Difficulty falling asleep
Poor concentration - It's why I never play those stupid Facebook apps.
Forgetfulness (I shit you not, it's on the sheet twice)
Decreased verbal skills
Irregular bleeding
Lower libido
Emotional instability - Did you just call me a flake?

Strangely enough, I am also Estrogen Dominant:

PMS - Pass My Shotgun
Irregular bleeding
Low libido
Heavy menstruation
Weight gain - Because all the other shit on this list isn't enough?
Mood swings - Do you have a problem with my moods?
Sleep disturbances - They're called KIDS.
Sugar cravings

And yes, Progesterone Deficient:

Fluid Retention
Stressed Easily
Weight gain - HELLO? We get it.
Irritability - YEAH. I KNOW ALREADY.
PMS - Pardon My Sweatpants
Heavy Periods
Irregular cycle/spotting between cycles
Over Reacting - Excuse me? Excuse *Me*? What, exactly, are you trying to say? No, no, really. Let's hear it.
Mood swings - I'm sorry I snapped at you.
Irritability - Is there a POINT to this constant repetition?

Oh My Lanta, Androgen Dominant, too?

Acne/oily skin - Especially my forehead. It's reflective, almost.
Facial hair - If I ever run out of turtle wax, I will be sure to use some of my Forehead Grease to keep my mustache and also my chiskers nice and shiny.
Angry - Well, duh, look at what I'm dealing with, here!
Irritable - Stop bringing it up! You're just pissing me off!

Of course I'm Androgen Deficient as well, why wouldn't I be?

Loss of libido
Loss of muscle tone
Wrinkled skin
Lack of drive - Meh..
Demotivation - I'll finish this later..

So what it all comes down to, is that I am a big fat shiny whale with a hair-trigger temper, a mustache, and a bad attitude and I tend to overreact and go Nuclear at the slightest provocation. After said outburst, I'm likely to flop down and have myself a good cry. Who knew I was so much fun?


Wednesday, November 25, 2009


Doreen and I were hanging out yesterday, and we got to talking about how our kids came about.  Not the sex talk, you dirty birds, just the timing of our kids.  (Just for the sake of background, Doreen is in her mid-thirties and has a 13 year old, an 11 year old, and twins who are 20 months old.  All of them are girls.)

Little Dude was totally unexpected.  He was unplanned.  He was not unwanted.  I had my boy and my girl - who was, at the time, still a tiny baby.  I was done having kids. Another baby was so Not In The Plan.  As soon as I got over the initial shock of being pregnant, I was in love with my baby.  Doreen felt the same way with her twins.  At the time she found out she was pregnant, her daughters were both school age and about to head into the tween/pre-teen stages of life.  A baby, let alone two babies, was definitely Not In The Plans.

Is there some kind of taboo that prevents mothers from expressing negative feelings towards the way children come to us in life?  As soon as a woman says, "You know, this is not exactly what I had planned," when it is in reference to children, immediately she qualifies it with, "I wouldn't change a thing, I love my babies."  Just so no one ever doubts her love for her kids.

To be clear, I am not talking about resenting your children for being born.  I'm talking about the resentment towards Life In General.  It was so hard for me for the first 10 months of Little Dude's life.  It was really difficult for Doreen for the first 15 months of her twins' lives.  Why can't we talk about this?  Why can't we say, to the world at large, to Life, having these babies so close together made me feel like a failure lots of times, overwhelmed lots of times, and mad and frustrated with myself for being a failure and overwhelmed? And frankly, I'm still a little pissy about it.

Why can't we say having twins at 34 when I thought I was way done having kids was shitty timing, Life? Or, gee  thanks, Life, I loved being in the hospital for 6 weeks on bedrest and suffering from severe PPD? You know, I'm mostly over it, but not completely. (Ok, so Doreen's life starting getting "difficult" before the twins arrived.)

Just re-reading what I've written, I noticed that I did it myself.  I qualified "Little Dude was unplanned," with "He was not unwanted."  Are we not supposed to say these things out loud or write them where other people can read them, without making sure everyone knows we 'wouldn't change a thing'?  Truthfully, if I could do it over again (with the guarantee that I would still have the same kids), I might choose to have 18 months between my little ones.  Or maybe 2 years.  I'd be willing to bet that Doreen would seriously think about having her twins at 28 instead of 34.

I really think there is a fear about being judged for this.  It's almost as though no matter how many times you say, "I wouldn't change a thing, I love my kids," it never seems to be quite enough to make up for, "I feel a tiny bit resentful towards Life In General for making this child-rearing business so fucking tough."

Me.. I don't really care about being judged.  I want to put it out there for any other mother (or father) who is or ever has been pissy with Life In General because of the wrenches that get thrown in the gears.  You know you love your kids and wouldn't trade them for the world. I know you love your kids and wouldn't trade them for the world. You don't need to qualify it anymore.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Let them eat cake. Dinosaur cake and Rainbow cake.

So here are some shots of the cakes I made for the joint birthday party for the Little Dude and The Princess last weekend, which we held at Boston Pizza.  BTW, holding a party at a restaurant is a great idea: zero clean up, and they don't charge you for a "room."  If you're lucky like us, they will seat other patrons in a different section until the dinner rush starts.

Little Dude's Dinosaur:


And the Princess' rainbow cake:


(That's my arm moving reallysuperfast! in the picture and blurring it up.  Hey, I was in a hurry to get my piece, people. It's yummy rainbow cake. Don't judge; you would be blurry too.  This is the best picture I have right now of the inside of the cake.)

Neither of these cakes are my own ideas.  The dinosaur cake is from the Betty Crocker website.  The rainbow cake is from MckMama's website.

I had a blast making them, because although they look difficult, they are quite easy.  By that I mean you don't need specialized skills or pans or whatnot; just the patience and the time to make a zillion pounds of icing and piss around with cake batter to make sure your colors are bright and your batter is split equally.  I am fairly certain that our house is experiencing frost heave right now, because the back of my cake pans was significantly higher than the front of my cake pans.  (Think tsunami wave. In rainbow colors!)  Despite this, they turned out fairly well.  The rainbow cake looks more lopsided in the picture than it did in real life, mostly because the scrolling around the top edge was bright pink and distracted the eye.

Everyone thought the dinosaur cake was really cute.  Then I cut into the rainbow cake.  The chorus of Oooohhhs and Aaaahhhs when people saw the inside is the real reason I go nuts with birthday cakes.  The compliments from our birthday guests and some of the waitstaff at the restaurant made me feel so good. Not to mention our waitress taking pictures of it on her cell phone because she wanted to show her friends; how awesome is that? Totally awesome.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Everyone Is Somebody

Neil over at Citizen of the Month is again running the Great Interview Experiment.  All you have to do is post a comment on the GIE post.  You interview the person who commented just before you, and the person after you will interview you.  The goal is to help us all suck fresh blood into our blog vortices meet new people who are - hopefully - vastly different from ourselves; think International Singles Mixer plus online speed-dating minus the time limit and illicit bathroom stall sex.  At least, I didn't get any.  But there's always Temerity Jane, who will be interviewing me. No pressure, TJ, we'll go slow.. it's my first time, too.

So my assignment? Monica Peters, from Monica created this website to share information on the events that occur in the Akwesasne Territory.  The Akwesasne (pronounced Ah-kweh-sauce-nee) Territory is a Mohawk Nation: it's western border runs down the St. Lawrence river and around the southern edge of Cornwall Island, ON and includes a chunk of New York and a slice of Quebec.  Monica is also a writer, YouTube wiz, and web app developer.  She is of Onkwehonwe descent and lives on Kawehno:ke (Cornwall Island).

How about a little bit of Personal Information?  Married? Kids? Job – as in, which of the many  hats you wear is the one that comes with a paycheck? Hobbies?

I married in 2005, to a strong Onkwehonwe man from Akwesasne.  He is the love of my life.

I pay my bills, by working as a web applications developer since 1996.  I also author books, technology documents, and an upcoming tabloid about life in Akwesasne.  I am a published author (Army of Web Bots by Monica Lamb). I also host Website Launch parties for clients, that I develop websites for.

Some days I develop innovative software and websites.  Other days, I teach my clients how to manage their own Internet business adventures or how to use various Internet technologies.  I am an entrepreneur with 'Oldest Child Syndrome'.  I enjoy serious challenges and tend to 'go after ant hills with an elephant gun', according to my mother.

I'm the 2007 NAAF recipient for technology, because I developed the world's first Endangered Language translators, back in 1997.  More info:

What prompted you to build

A group of women in Akwesasne discussed that we all wanted to have a safe place to share what we are experiencing in Akwesasne. Historically, various governments have taken advantage of their position, by publishing false and damaging stories about Onkwehonwe. We all agreed that we wanted to speak up and share our stories, pictures, and videos with the world, without asking for permission from any government agency.

I invested my own money and resources into starting up the website. Within a few weeks, some of the women, did not like the stories I posted and they wanted me to ask them for permission before I posted
any of my views.  I reminded them that I am a free Onkwehonwe and I do not ask permission to think or speak freely.  So, we parted our ways and they started a new group and a new website for themselves.

I continue to post stories, videos, and pictures that I capture during my normal daily routine, living in Akwesasne.  I am fortunate that women and men from our original group are still helping to discover and share information, so that I can publish stories on our website. We are a small group and we all work very well together (especially during times of crisis).  Some days, we have a handful of videographers working simultaneously to get all angles during crisis situations.

During crisis situations, we are threatened with violence from various border agents, police officers, military groups, and local government agents,  if we try to document the situation, leave or return to our homes or travel freely around our community of Akwesasne. We are currently receiving the most threats, from various governments that want to force every 'Indian' to become fully assimilated citizens of the USA or Canada governments.

Sometimes, police threaten to take our cameras and equipment.  Other days, border agents threaten to arrest Onkwehonwe if they question the agent, when the agent demands that they answer weird questions - or to
step out of their vehicles.

It can be very scary living in Akwesasne.  It seems like a 'police state' out of a science fiction movie on some days.  The past few weeks have been fairly quiet though.  Except for the coast guard boat that runs so close to our shore (in our backyard) that I think it might hit our trees or rocks, while they peer in our house windows and wave their Canadian flag.  Very strange here sometimes.

Before this year, I enjoyed a relatively quiet happy life here in Akwesasne and traveling the world for my career.  I am still relatively happy for the most part, because we have beautiful and brilliant people in Akwesasne that are always happy to support the sharing of knowledge and resources.

Have you always been involved in social activism, or was there one specific incident that affected you deeply enough that you jumped in?

No, in fact, I can't stand politics at all.  I was able to avoid it all my life, right up until this year.  I have been forced into speaking out, because I have literally been under attack and threatened in my own community this year.

I have no criminal record, I don't smoke, I don't drink, and I do my best to follow the Great Law.  I am not armed nor dangerous, because I respect The Great Law and that is a very peaceful way of life.

You are very clear about your dissatisfaction with the way the Onkwehonwe people are treated by the Canadian and US governments.  In a perfect world, what kind of relationship  would you like to see between Akwesasne and the two countries?

Two Row Wampum*.  I don't try to control others, trick others to become my slave, tell others how to believe, behave, and exist.  I demand the same respect in return.  Respect (as I understand it) is the ability
to co-exist with no fear of intimidation, harassment, or harm of any form (mental, physical, spiritual).

*a wampum belt containing two parallel rows of purple beads on a white bead background was used by the Haudenosaunee to record their 1613 treaty with the Dutch.  The purple rows signify two vessels traveling in the same river side by side but separate.  One boat never tries to steer the other. (Source: Wikipedia)

I get the impression that you regard the Mohawk Council of Akwesasne (MCA) as just another Canadian federal agency; it says on your website, and I’m paraphrasing, that the MCA recognize the Government of Canada as their employer and thus are bound to do whatever the Canadian Government  tells them to, even if it is detrimental to Akwesasne.  What, specifically, is the MCA doing or not  doing to give you this viewpoint?

MCA has many good Onkwehonwe working in their system too.  The problem is not the Onkwehonwe.  The problem is the system - it is created and owned by a British corporation that has proved it's intentions for
hundreds of years now.  They intend to fully assimilate every last 'Indian' into becoming citizens of their corporations (by force and trickery).

Onkwehonwe that have knowledge of our origins, our lands, our waterways, will never agree to become citizens of USA nor Canada.  They treat their citizens like slaves and it's very disappointing to witness. Today we witness the governments mistreating their own citizens, in every way imaginable.

With regards to the bridge that runs from Cornwall, Ontario to Cornwall Island, and then to the Massena Border Post, NY, why is there such  conflict between the Canadian Border Services Agency and the people who live on  Kawehno:ke (Cornwall Is.)?

C.B.S.A. has abused Onkwehonwe and travelers to the point of causing death, harm, and much distress on our small island (Kawehno:ke) since they were forced onto us in the 1950s. They continue to abuse their position and they continue to harass, threaten, bully, and even outright lie about their abusive interactions with Onkwehonwe and travelers they encounter.

They have stated in public media, that they view 'Mohawks' as armed, dangerous, and so scary that they (C.B.S.A.) had to leave their building, because they became so emotionally distressed.  Yet, all the
photographers that were present, show the 'scary mohawks' as Children, Elderly, Men, and Women that are most certainly not armed or dangerous.  In the next statement, C.B.S.A. said that they must carry guns.  What kind of person would ever allow an emotionally distressed agent to carry guns?

The public is just learning that C.B.S.A. actually have been planning and orchestrating a massive media campaign to criminalize all 'Indians'.  Many other government agencies are involved.

A common lament among older First Nations people is that the younger generation is not carrying on the old traditions.  Do you see that happening in Akwesasne?  Are you losing your young people to mainstream Canada or the States?

We are actually alot healthier that some of our sisters and brothers communities.  Of course we have our issues, similar to every community on the planet. Onkwehonwe do not stop existing, just because they are not acting or living, in the way that books, movies, or laws claim they should be acting or living as.

If you could change one stereotype that Whites have about Natives, what would it be? Conversely, if you could change one stereotype that Natives have about Whites, what would it be?

I don't refer to myself as 'Native, Indian, Mohawk, First Nation, Aboriginal, Indigenous' or any English language term.

Every single one of us, is part of this Creation. The Great Law, is for all and it's really not about 'white' vs 'black' vs 'red' vs 'yellow'.

When we acknowledge and understand The Great Law or Natural Law, we can understand that everything is temporary and truly start to just appreciate everything and everyone we encounter. We can proudly look in the mirror, even while our hair, eyes, or skin are not what the man-made laws, dictate they should be.

Best advice I can share with anyone, is to find out what 'Natural Law' is, especially compared to man-made laws.

Who has had the greatest influence on your life? Why?

Creator, because I sincerely do appreciate every experience here. What an incredible experience!

What is the one thing that you would love to do but are absolutely terrified to try?

Hmmm, this is really tough to answer,  because I consistently do things that scare me.  Even things that I'm not too keen about. For example, I keep my cameras rolling during scary incidents around Akwesasne.  Sometimes it's scary, because they are often rude and one even asked their followers to shut down my cameras during public gatherings.

Ok, I know what I'm terrified to try, but I would love to be good at. I would love to be a motivational public speaker.  I would love to share my own story of how I am a survivor of child abuse and learned to sincerely forgive all those that abused me as a child.  That is a terrifying thought, because it's hard to talk about a subject that causes listeners to want to become abusers and go harm the adults that harm children. I would like to help others learn to move into and beyond the knee-jerk reactions to painful events.  I am so honored to have learned how to be truly appreciative and peaceful, even in such chaotic and scary times.

A big thank you to Monica for giving thoughtful answers and not calling me out for the clumsy amateur I really am.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Letters of Intent, Nov 20/09

Letters of Intent

Letters of Intent, brought to you by Julie @ Foursons. Don't forget to click over there when you're done here.

I'm sure anyone with a husband will relate this week..

Dear Husband with a Death Wish,

Yesterday you played hooky from the job you will be leaving soon to do some online training stuff for the company you are about to start with.  I am fairly certain the online training took about three or four hours, but you sat at the computer all day.  You watched me clean the house, wrangle the kids, make bread, and do laundry.  Then I cooked supper.  I did not ask you to watch the kids, or intervene when they were taking turns trying to kill and maim each other.  I specifically told the kids to leave you alone so you could get your computer stuff done.  When I took the Hurricane to tae kwon do at 5, I assumed that you would clean the kitchen, because it has been our deal since the beginning of time that if we are both home, the person who does not cook has to clean.

Much to my dismay, when we got back home at 6, the kitchen was half-assed done.  I appreciate that you cleared the table and ran the dishwasher (that mostly I loaded), but the job is not done until the pots and pans are washed and counters are wiped.  I did not appreciate the shitty way you left it all for me to clean and flat out told me that you weren't going to do any of it.  Then you sat your ass right back down at the computer.

We both know that I am a Woman On The Edge these days, what with the hormone stuff I'm going through.  My doctor's appointment isn't until next Wednesday, so you'd be wise to watch your back, Jack.  This kind of disrespect will take you places you really don't want to go.  Do you really want to share your side of the bed with those unwashed pots and pans?  Or maybe you would prefer that I stuff your pillowcase with every stinky piece of dirty laundry you own? Which, if you keep giving me Shitty Disrespectful Attitude, is going to pile up as I will go on laundry strike.

It is not wise to mess with me, Husband.  I have ways of making your life extremely unpleasant.

Your Loving Wife,

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

I'm Feeling Old Today

Last night, I had to run down to the gas station to grab some milk.  While I was in line, I overheard a conversation between the young cashier and a male friend of hers.  They were discussing whether or not they should get a place in the city together and whether or not the cashier's boyfriend would move into the city, too, so they could all share an apartment.  The cashier tried to explain to her friend that (like.. honestly?) her boyfriend would (totally)  not move into the city.  The male friend looked part mystified and part taken aback and said, "Why would he stay in this small town?"

Well, friends, that instantly made me feel about 80 years old.  Only because at the age of 19 I couldn't wait to leave my own small town and spread my wings in a Big City.  I could never imagine living in a small town ever again, because why would I stay in that small town?  Now, I am the 32-year-old Mom driving the Mom-mobile, wearing sweatpants and very-unstylish-yet-waterproof boots to grab milk at 10:45 at night, only to return to my husband and 3 small babes sleeping in beds in the house on the small acreage in the country, not even on the edge of that small town.

Gone are the days of being young and having endless possibilities for your life.  Gone are the days of having boundless energy; energy to stay up all night, study for a test on the way to school, and pass the test with a B.  Gone are the days of being responsible only to myself and having much more time to donate to Deep Thinking. Gone are the days of wandering around my Big City smelling the smells and hearing the sounds and visiting my most favorite places.

Here, though, are the days of being wiser.  Here are the days of having a bunch of drunken Mini-me's running around like total maniacs and making me laugh.  Here are the days of getting into bed at night and it's already warmed up.  Here are the days of seeing the world through the eyes of a child again.  Here are the days of watching those children make the connections (I swear, sometimes if you're watching their eyes, you can actually see the synapses firing) when they figure out something new.

Here are the days of struggle; of knowing that as much as a struggle as it is, one day you will look back with wistfulness at these days, too.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Me, circa 1990

As a teenager, I truly was awkward.  In pretty much every sense of the word; I was awkward looking, awkward in school, awkward around other people.. well, you get the picture.  In case you don't, this should help you out:

What was I thinking? Perhaps that the hideous shirt would take the emphasis off my face?

We didn't have much money when I was growing up; most of the time we made do with very little.  While my siblings and I did not go to school dressed in tatters, the clothes we wore were rarely name brand.  It was Saan's, Field's, or Woolworth's clothes.  Once in a while, if there was a bit of spare change in the budget, Mom would let us order something from the Sears catalogue.

As soon as I was old enough to babysit and start making my own money, you can bet your sweet ass I took every babysitting gig I was offered. Four kids? Under 7? All day and overnight? For a pittance? SURE!  My mom was very supportive of my babysitting; not only did it (eventually) ease some of the financial pressure of having a 'tween daughter who desperately needs name brand everything or she will die on the spot!! but committing to people and setting up a babysitting schedule helped Teach Me Some Responsibility.  As long as it didn't affect my school, I could babysit a few hours on weeknights, too. I didn't earn very much at first, and I spent what little I made on candy and Tiger Beat.

Vividly, I remember being at the peak of my Ugly Duckling stage in the 8th and 9th grades.  I was tremendously shy, geeky, smart, and most definitely an outsider. There was a group of girls that I used to hang on the fringe of during first break.  I didn't consider them my friends, they were just girls that I followed behind and sat in the same end of the hallway for 10 minutes before it was time to go back to class.  I spent most of the time hoping no one would notice me.  One day, one of the girls got it in her head to pick on me a bit, just a bitchy remark or two, and I sniped right back at her.  So she said to me, "I don't mean to be rude, but," which we all know really means I'm about be really fucking rude, "didn't you wear those jeans yesterday? And the day before? Is that like, your only pair of jeans?"  Truthfully, it was my only pair of jeans.  I was so embarrassed.  All I could do was stand up and walk away, my face burning with humiliation. Never once, until that moment, had being poor really bothered me.

After that, I started hustling up jobs and saving, saving, saving.  Once I got up enough scratch to buy some new threads, I took myself to the boutique-y Jeans North store and spent a wad of cash.  I did mention I was awkward, yes?  Did I also happen to mention I was hopelessly inept at all things fashion-related? See picture day shirt above. I cringe as I remember myself trying on pair after pair of Guess and Levi's jeans and finally walking out of the store the proud (PROUD!) owner of four pairs of jeans: one teal, one green, one red, and one bright blue. 

Can someone please explain this to me?  This fashion trend of looking like a fucking reject from the Reading Rainbow? ("Take a look, it's in our book.. Reading Rainbow.. Reeaaaddding Raaaaaaiiinnnbooooww" sing it with me, Lavar Burton!) AS IF I needed anything else to make my already painful life harder.  I would love to travel back in time, pull my 13 year old self aside and say, "You look fucking ridiculous.  Just buy regular blue jeans."

Alas, I wore the heck out of those jeans.  For $50 a pair, what choice did I have?  I had spent all my money.  Besides, I thought I looked good. The jeans all kind of had the Mom-jean high waist fit - you remember high waisters. Low rise jeans were still pretty far in the future in 1990.  I think we were just heading into the Return of the Bellbottoms and Other Hippy Shit and the Look Like a Hobo Grunge trends.  My God, the clothes we wore.  It's just all so embarrassing.  See picture day shirt above.

At 13 I was sure I was going to be chubby and have pimples forever.


I just realized, at this moment, that not only do I have 20 lbs to lose, I also have a few heaters percolating on my face.  Meh, whatever. 

Important Life Lesson: What you thought was life ending at 13 is not so much at 32.  Which probably means that what you think is life ending at 32 is not so much at 52.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

Letters of Intent, Nov 13/09

Letters of Intent

Letters of Intent, brought to you by Julie @ Foursons

Dear Circles of Hell Save On Foods,

I truly enjoyed our visit through your bolgia aisles tonight.  I know, maybe it's not the best idea ever to drag your three children through the Inferno grocery store at 7pm after a long day and when everyone is tired.  Oops, my bad.

Well, it didn't start off terribly.  I didn't realize the magnitude of my catastrophic mistake until we were just about ready to leave Circle One: Limbo the frozen food section.  That's about when the Little Dude got stuck in the foot-well of the two-child steering wheel "fun" cart, and let out a very unearthly screech when the Princess tried to sit on his head.  And then another screech when I got him unstuck.  Did anyone else's ears start bleeding? Sorry about that.  I had just listened to him cry for the whole ride into town, so I barely heard anything.  Just felt the blood trickle down my face.

Wouldn't you know it, as soon as Little Dude was settled down with a bottle and a jerry-rigged seatbelt so he couldn't slide down anymore, we hit the Third Circle: Gluttony lunch snacks section, and some serious, major whining of, "I'm hungry," and dangerous cart-driving by the Hurricane forced me to enter the Fifth Circle of the Wrathful and the Seventh Circle of the Violent and grab him by the damn jacket and threaten his life firmly yet gently reprimand him.  I hope that guy that the Hurricane plowed into doesn't sue you.  Hey, I apologized.  As a former Single Person myself, I know that Single People much prefer to do their grocery shopping in the evening so they don't have to listen to a bunch of loud, obnoxious kids.

After I got One and Three taken care of, Two figured it was her turn and began leaning precariously over the steering wheel kid-containment area of the shopping cart into the grocery area of the shopping cart.  Her aim? To  open and/or squish and/or smash and/or dump as many boxes and bags as possible like the wraith of the Fourth Circle of Wasters that she is.  I bet your stock-boy thought it was cute; I'm sure he loved chasing after us giving us stuff that was being tossed out of the cart.  The baby's bottle, granola bars, stuff out of my purse..

Eventually, we did make it to the till with all present and accounted for.  I was reminded that there is nothing like a crying baby to make a checkout girl haul ass and get those groceries through the till.  I could tell she was real happy to see me pull out my coupon wallet, too cause I'm still queen of the Fourth Circle Spendthrifts, bitches.

So thanks for showing us a good time, Circles of Hell Save-On Foods.  Let's do it again soon!


Wednesday, November 11, 2009

In Remembrance..

A Poppy

To remember and honour the men and women who fought and died to protect the people and freedoms of our great country.

To pay respects to the soldiers who fought and came home, forever changed.

To support the members of our armed forces currently serving in peacekeeping missions and in conflicts across the world.

Thank you.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Thank you guys so much..

for kicking my ass.

After reading your words of encouragement and feeling the love, I decided I needed to get back on the wagon.  I also decided that I needed two things to accomplish it: Rewards and Accountability.  So I have set up a reward system that gets me awesome stuff whenever I drop 5 lbs. I have also set up another blog, for accountability.  If you feel like poking your head in the door, click here: The Skinny Bitch Inside Me (Tasted Great With Ketchup!).  I just set it up.  Like, Five Minutes Ago just set it up.  So it still has that 'new blog' smell.  And because I am a generous soul, I'm willing to share my title of Grand Poobah Muckety-Muck and the accompanying Posting Permissions on that blog with anyone who is interested.

To answer your unasked question, I have been eating nothing but healthy food and I actually worked out yesterday and today.  So yes, I am sore as all hell. Hey, my first reward is a massage, so the pain is completely worth it.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

Conversations with a 4 Year Old

Sitting in Wendy's on Friday at lunchtime, my Hurricane was staring behind me; not saying anything, just staring...

Me: What are you staring at?

Hurricane: Is that wady a zombie? *points behind me*

Me: What? *looks behind, sees little old lady at a table by herself, eating a burger bigger than her head*

H: Is she a zombie?

Me: *desperately trying to hold in the fits of laughter* No honey, she's not a zombie, and quit staring.  Don't point, either. It's bad manners.

H: Why is her face painted like a zombie?

Me: *again, trying not to choke on french fries and laughter* Her face isn't painted like a zombie, honey, she's just pale.  That's just the color of her skin.


In the truck on the way home from the grocery store, where the Hurricane was a total shit and I was still seriously pissed about his bad behaviour:

H: Are you mad?

Me: Very.

H: Am I going to my room when I get home?

Me: Yup.

H: No I'm not. When we get home, I'm going to hide behind the shed.  silence for a minute.. You won't see me right?

Me: When we get home, you'd better run your little butt up to your room.  I will not put up with bad behaviour in the grocery store.

H: No, I'm going to run behind the garage. I'll sit down under the window and you won't see me.

This kid? Going places.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Letters of Intent, Nov 6/09

Letters of Intent

Letters of Intent, brought to you by Julie @ Foursons. Click on over for some more chicken-scratching and pencil-licking. (pencil-licking *snicker*)

Dear Lungs,

As of yesterday, we are now Officially 3 Months Smoke Free.  How do you feel?  Like a couple of shiny pennies, no doubt.  Or a pair of shiny lungs, even. I am going to continue to try my hardest to not fill you up with cigarette smoke.  Also, thanks for not getting infested with some gnarly bacteria, or worse; The Virus, The Name Of Which Will Remain Unsaid So As Not To Jinx Us.

Keep up the good work!

Dear Cardiovascular System,

In case the Lungs haven't told you, we are 3 months smoke free.  Yes, it is Fan-freaking-tastic!  Have I told you lately you're doing a great job? Because you so are.  And hey, I really appreciate that since we quit smoking, I'm not getting those scary dizzy spells, which always occurred while I was driving, anymore. Was that actually smoking-related? Or just a psychosomatic mechanism to scare the ever-loving shit out of me?  Whatever it was, it worked!

Great job!

Dear Psyche and/or Relevant Parts of My Brain,

Okay, so obviously you know we are past the 3 month mark.  Now, it's going to be a bit tricky for the next couple of weeks, because in the past, this is where you tend to drop the ball.  Don't try to convince the rest of us that, "we can have just one; after all, we've proven we can quit!" We'll all be smoking again in no time if that's how you're going to play it. 

Since I have your attention, I'd like to address something else.  It's time to shut off the Negative Eating Patterns.  Honestly.  I get the whole concept of replacing one addiction with another, but could we please pick something other than food? Something that will keep my hands busy but not cause me to bust out of every pair of pants I own? There is only so much Lycra in these jeans, Brain.

So how do you feel about knitting? Can I get a hell yeah for knitting?

Thanks very much,

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

I'll even let you kick my ass.

As a teenager and young adult, I could never envision a future self who was not filled with an abundance of energy and lust for life.  I would always be decisive; life for me would always be black or white.  I could not see a future time when I would not have the coordinates for the exact direction my life would go.  I had always been able to chart my path and follow it, so why would my adulthood be any different?

Looking back, I have this irresistible urge to give my young self a pat on the head as I laugh in a knowing, condescending way.

I feel as though I have been in a fog for a long time.  I can't say exactly when it started, only that it has been building up for a while.  At the same time, I feel as though I am coming out of the New Baby stage with my Little Dude, and that is like a weight slowly lifting from my shoulders.  Tiny babies are so much work and they take everything.  So, on one hand, my physical workload is getting smaller, but it feels as though my mental workload is getting bigger.  So many things to keep track of, all the time.  Kids, and kid stuff, and money stress and marriage stress, so many balls in the air for one juggler.

The root of the solution begins with me.  I know that.  Finding the root of the problem is unimportant right now, as I need to get out from underneath everything first.  I am missing two things to accomplish this: clarity, and motivation. 

All this fog has left me wishy-washy and seemingly unable to make a decision on anything one way or another.  I spent a good 15 minutes on the phone with Hot Stuff yesterday humming and hawing about whether I should get winter tires or winter-rated all seasons.  He found a great deal on top-of-the-line winter-rated all seasons, and I should have immediately jumped all over it.  I didn't.  I insisted we go through all the pros and cons, because I couldn't decide.  Because I'm some kind of tire expert?  Because I can't just take his word on it?  I had to yell at myself, Take the damn tires, already, before he divorces your soul-sucking ass! before I agreed to get winter-rated all seasons.

What is killing me most is my lack of motivation.  I have really let myself go.  Not just packing on pounds, but not doing anything for myself.  I haven't worked out in a couple of weeks, and I have not been eating well at all for a couple of months.  My diet consists of breakfast, supper, and large amounts of junk food.  Literally.  Not an exaggeration.  I can't actually remember the last time I ate a healthy, decent lunch.  I only shower about twice a week, and forget about keeping my nethers tidy or shaving my legs.  Again, I am not sleeping well.  I am tired all the time.  My period is here and gone, here and gone.  In the past, I have had the most success by starting with diet and exercise, and most of the other stuff resolves itself.  I am really struggling this time to get on track, or even just to tone it down some.

When the Hurricane was born, I lost about 30 pounds of baby weight through breast feeding and just being a new mom, with all that entails.  When he turned one, I got on the scale and weighed in at 172 lbs.  (Just so you don't have to do the math, I was 219 lbs right before I went into the hospital to have him.  He was somewhere between 7 - 8 lbs when he was born. Obviously, I am fucking awesome at eating for 2.)  I was dismayed, to say the least, to realize that I still had 25 lbs to lose to be at my healthy weight.  I did it, though.  The healthy way, with diet and exercise; it only took me 12 weeks, too.  Man, did I feel awesome.  Anyways, this is relevant because: Little Dude turns one in a week; my weight, as of this morning, is 170.5 lbs.  I had seriously hoped to not be in this position again.

I need an ass-kicking to kick-start me back into exercise.  I really, really miss the sweat and pain, as sick as that sounds.  I always feel so much better about myself when I know that I am strong and my clothes feel good.  Heathy body, healthy mind, yo.  I just can't seem to make myself.  My get-up-and-go done got-up-and-left.

Since I can't decide which method I should use to get myself fired up (rewards? threats? psychology? reverse-psychology?), I would love to hear your ways of getting inspired, and/or any fire-in-the-belly speeches you can lay on me.  Feel free to virtually and verbally kick my ass in the spirit of encouragement.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

This soapbox has my name on it

The Olympic Flame landed in Victoria, BC, Canada this past Friday morning, amid much controversy.  The Flame had many supporters turn out to see it's arrival; the protesters showed up later.


Yes. Protesters.

People who have a problem with our provincial governments spending $6 billion dollars on the Olympic Games; I think I might just agree with them.  It's not just the taxpayers of British Columbia who are footing this bill; according to this article in the Vancouver Sun, many of the provinces chipped in financially so Vancouver could hold these Olympics.

Just think about this amount of money for a minute.  Six billion dollars. $6,000,000,000. Do you know what that could buy?

One MRI machine costs $1 million.

Supportive housing costs about $22,000 - $28,000 per person per year.

The BC Government gave $43 million to victims of crime and domestic violence support in the last budget.

NASA spends $450 million per mission to launch a space shuttle.

In 2008, some mad scientists flipped the switch of a $6 billion dollar machine designed to find the origin of mass by recreating the Big Bang.

A degree costs $50,000 - $75,000 for four years at a Canadian university.

I just grabbed a random sampling of Stuff That Looks Expensive for the sake of comparison.  Really, I doubt many of us want our governments to blow $6 bill on Recreating the Big Bang (it would be really awesome to find out what makes stuff stuff, except that the machine has been on the fritz for the last year, and I feel rather let down by that).

I, however, would like our governments to be more responsible and instead of wasting our money on the pomp and circumstance* that surrounds the Olympics, would like to see that money put to much better use. 

*Please note that I did not say the Olympics are a waste of money.  I said all of the "stuff" that goes with the Olympics.  For example: building and/or completely gutting and renovating the hundreds of buildings and pavilions that will be required for holding the games (what's wrong with the arenas that are already there?), housing the athletes; the conference centers; the planning and celebration costs as well as the advertising and displays set up in other countries across the world, etc.  On the surface, it looks good; it will provide jobs and stimulate the economy in the short term, but what happens when the Olympics are all done?

I do think the Olympics are a good morale booster for our country, and God knows, we could all use a little morale boost.  I just can't get past the idea that as much as the Olympics are "good" for Canada, it would be really, really "great" for Canada to spend the money on building more schools and hospitals, or getting abused and/or drug addicted kids off the streets. 

One more thing: while the City of Vancouver, Government of BC, and the Vancouver Olympic Committee are all talking about how they want the world to see Vancouver as the fresh, livable, wonderful Utopia it really is, the police have recently been given the power to force homeless people into shelters.  Sure, Vancouver is fresh, livable, and wonderful, as long as you stay far far away from the Downtown Eastside; the most drug-infested, poorest neighborhood in Canada. 

Why not just design a giant broom to sweep all the ucky homeless and addicted right out of the city?  Hey, I bet it wouldn't cost $6 billion dollars.

Just sayin'.