It's October 31 again...
Which means Halloween is almost over...
Officially, it's today only, but the entire month of October is one big creep-fest for most people...scary movies on tv and in theatres, kids trying to find the creepiest, ghouliest (it's a word) costumes possible...my boys trying to figure out how best to scare the crap out me...
I hate it.
I hate being scared. I hate scary movies, scary costumes and scary music. Hate it, hate it, hate it...I know there are others out there who feel the same way I do (my sisters being two of them, not sure about my brother), but we seem to be few and far between...
We used to have a babysitter who would watch horror movies after she put our kids to bed. One night, we came home to find the house dark (or mostly, only one light was on upstairs), and our lovely babysitter Ashley, sitting in our darkened basement, watching "The Fog"...
"Are you well?" I asked her.
"Oh, I love scary movies," she told me.
I'm creeped out just thinking about it.
Personally, I'm a Christmas girl...I get giddy seeing Christmas decorations in the store in August. I call my husband and giggle like a school girl each time I see some new sign that Christmas is getting closer...I plan baking and turkey dinners and where to hide the gifts so the kids don't find them...I love Christmas music (and especially the radio station in town that plays Christmas music 24 hours a day, seven days a week from November 24 to December 25)...I love watching Christmas specials and watching the first flakes come down...
It's almost here...I just have to get through today...
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Gluten Kicked My Butt Again...
A few weeks ago, my sister, who was in town for work, told me that she doesn't believe that I have celiac disease. "I think you're gluten intolerant, but not an actual celiac," she said. "Because you don't get sick like two of my friends back home."
"Well," I replied. "My doctor, the guy with the medical degrees, says that I do, so I'm gonna go with that, 'k?"
On Sunday morning, my husband sent my sister a text describing my reaction to ingesting a tiny amount of gluten (and who the heck puts barley in chicken broth? Oh yeah, Campbell's...thanks a whole heck of a lot boys)..."she looks like the Stay Puff marshmallow man"...if you've never seen "Ghostbusters", then you won't get the reference, suffice it to say that I was a tad bloated.
And in pain.
I had a blinding headache, my eyeballs hurt, my feet were so swollen I had trouble getting my shoes on (and in fact, Saturday night when we got in the car to go home, I took off my socks and shoes because they were too tight), my stomach was bloated out so far I looked about 7 months pregnant, every bone in my body hurt, and I was so exhausted I did not want to get out of bed.
Then there was the nausea.
What was that about not being sick when I eat gluten?
It's three days later and I'm finally starting to feel human again...but damn, that gluten is a bitch. A nasty, take-no-prisoners-slash-your-tires-because-you-broke-up-with-her-bitch.
I hope I never run into her again...
"Well," I replied. "My doctor, the guy with the medical degrees, says that I do, so I'm gonna go with that, 'k?"
On Sunday morning, my husband sent my sister a text describing my reaction to ingesting a tiny amount of gluten (and who the heck puts barley in chicken broth? Oh yeah, Campbell's...thanks a whole heck of a lot boys)..."she looks like the Stay Puff marshmallow man"...if you've never seen "Ghostbusters", then you won't get the reference, suffice it to say that I was a tad bloated.
And in pain.
I had a blinding headache, my eyeballs hurt, my feet were so swollen I had trouble getting my shoes on (and in fact, Saturday night when we got in the car to go home, I took off my socks and shoes because they were too tight), my stomach was bloated out so far I looked about 7 months pregnant, every bone in my body hurt, and I was so exhausted I did not want to get out of bed.
Then there was the nausea.
What was that about not being sick when I eat gluten?
It's three days later and I'm finally starting to feel human again...but damn, that gluten is a bitch. A nasty, take-no-prisoners-slash-your-tires-because-you-broke-up-with-her-bitch.
I hope I never run into her again...
Friday, May 25, 2012
I think I have developed seasonal allergies.
Which really, really, really ticks me off.
I've already had to give up gluten (which includes wheat, barley, rye, spelt and kamut), dairy (which means milk, cheese and cream) and now processed sugar (which includes pretty much anything fun).
So to not be able to go outside without my eyes getting itchy and watery, my nose either continuously running or stuffed so badly I can't breathe and feeling like I'm surrounded by a fog, really makes me want to scream.
I need to get in to see my doctor, but he doesn't have any spots open until September, unless I call next Friday morning at 8, when I can try to get an appointment for the following week...it's all very confusing...
In the meantime, what I thought was a cold is not affected in the slightest by cold medication, but clears up completely when I take allergy meds...
And maybe it's nothing at all...
That's what I'm hoping for...
Which really, really, really ticks me off.
I've already had to give up gluten (which includes wheat, barley, rye, spelt and kamut), dairy (which means milk, cheese and cream) and now processed sugar (which includes pretty much anything fun).
So to not be able to go outside without my eyes getting itchy and watery, my nose either continuously running or stuffed so badly I can't breathe and feeling like I'm surrounded by a fog, really makes me want to scream.
I need to get in to see my doctor, but he doesn't have any spots open until September, unless I call next Friday morning at 8, when I can try to get an appointment for the following week...it's all very confusing...
In the meantime, what I thought was a cold is not affected in the slightest by cold medication, but clears up completely when I take allergy meds...
And maybe it's nothing at all...
That's what I'm hoping for...
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Worst. Blogger. Ever.
Here's the short version:
Since August:
Ian's 12.
Avery's 9 1/2. A pre-teen. May the Lord save us all.
Emma and Jamie are 8 and nearly as tall as I am.
We bought a new house.
Brian's still writing a book.
Ok, not the same book.
We have a new puppy who likes to terrorize our cat.
We had to have our second cat put down.
The children think I am the "pet murderer".
Nasty cat (aka Reggie) has become much nicer since we had his claws removed.
We had him fixed over a year ago, so he's probably wondering what the hell we'll do to him next.
Got into two car accidents in one day (rear ended by some moron and hit ice and spun out 9 hours later-while driving through the only blizzard Ottawa had this year).
School's almost done for another year and then I will have a child entering high school, an event I'm not sure he's ready for.
I am definitely not ready for it.
Some days I feel like Ferris Bueller..."life moves pretty fast...if you don't stop and look around some time, you might miss it..." I'm trying not to miss it...
Here's the short version:
Since August:
Ian's 12.
Avery's 9 1/2. A pre-teen. May the Lord save us all.
Emma and Jamie are 8 and nearly as tall as I am.
We bought a new house.
Brian's still writing a book.
Ok, not the same book.
We have a new puppy who likes to terrorize our cat.
We had to have our second cat put down.
The children think I am the "pet murderer".
Nasty cat (aka Reggie) has become much nicer since we had his claws removed.
We had him fixed over a year ago, so he's probably wondering what the hell we'll do to him next.
Got into two car accidents in one day (rear ended by some moron and hit ice and spun out 9 hours later-while driving through the only blizzard Ottawa had this year).
School's almost done for another year and then I will have a child entering high school, an event I'm not sure he's ready for.
I am definitely not ready for it.
Some days I feel like Ferris Bueller..."life moves pretty fast...if you don't stop and look around some time, you might miss it..." I'm trying not to miss it...
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Time, She Flies...
It's the beginning of August. The last time I posted here was in February. I stopped writing because I figured, what's the point? No one is that interested in my ramblings...
Truth be told, it had nothing to do with that...it had to do with the fact that I sat down in prayer one day, asked what (other than being a wife and mother) I should be doing with my time/talents/life and received an answer I didn't want to hear...
"You should be writing," is what came to me.
Which of course meant that that was the last thing I would do.
My husband writes. I have several friends who write. Me? I like colour, I told God. I want to draw and paint.
"No reason you can't do both," I was gently reminded.
No, no, no, I replied. I can't do that. That would be too simple. How 'bout I just run away from the whole idea for a time and I'll get back to you on this whole writing thing?
Problem is, no matter how far (or fast) I run, I can never really escape...and eventually, I come back to Him, head hanging down, asking for forgiveness (which is always given) and help in doing what He suggested in the first place...
It would be much easier if I just accepted His word in the first place, no?
Sigh...
In the meantime, we've had to put our Murphy down (she would have been 14 next month), been to one funeral, gone to Vegas (just us! No kids! First time we've been away/alone together for that length of time since our honeymoon-nearly 13 years ago), Brian's working on his book (his tv show - and the Sun News Network - launched in April), the kids are trying to ignore the fact that school starts in four short weeks and I've missed too many karate classes (what with kids home for the summer and the continued re-injuring of my right deltoid-something-or-other)...
It's life, ya know?
Truth be told, it had nothing to do with that...it had to do with the fact that I sat down in prayer one day, asked what (other than being a wife and mother) I should be doing with my time/talents/life and received an answer I didn't want to hear...
"You should be writing," is what came to me.
Which of course meant that that was the last thing I would do.
My husband writes. I have several friends who write. Me? I like colour, I told God. I want to draw and paint.
"No reason you can't do both," I was gently reminded.
No, no, no, I replied. I can't do that. That would be too simple. How 'bout I just run away from the whole idea for a time and I'll get back to you on this whole writing thing?
Problem is, no matter how far (or fast) I run, I can never really escape...and eventually, I come back to Him, head hanging down, asking for forgiveness (which is always given) and help in doing what He suggested in the first place...
It would be much easier if I just accepted His word in the first place, no?
Sigh...
In the meantime, we've had to put our Murphy down (she would have been 14 next month), been to one funeral, gone to Vegas (just us! No kids! First time we've been away/alone together for that length of time since our honeymoon-nearly 13 years ago), Brian's working on his book (his tv show - and the Sun News Network - launched in April), the kids are trying to ignore the fact that school starts in four short weeks and I've missed too many karate classes (what with kids home for the summer and the continued re-injuring of my right deltoid-something-or-other)...
It's life, ya know?
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Know What Else Drives Me Nuts?...
...me...
Yes, that's what I said...me. I drive me crazy. And not in a good way...
I am almost 43 years old and I am still fighting the demons that tell me I'm not good enough...wait, no...not that I'm not good enough...that I'm not thin enough...fit enough...not perfect...
After my karate class Saturday morning, I was talking with a friend of mine...I admire her a lot...she's a second degree black belt, knows how to shoot an AK-47, is smart, funny, beautiful, happily married...she has written I don't know how many books, has a law degree and is just an amazing woman...and she seems to be perfectly comfortable with her body...
She is exactly the kind of woman I want to be when I grow up...
Anyway, I was telling her that I had asked Brian to draw my outline on a huge piece of paper...
"Why?" she wanted to know.
Good question.
The answer is that I have an inability to see my body the way it actually looks. I trace it back to my childhood (and I am not one to blame all of my problems on what happened when I was a kid), but in this case, I spent years hearing how I was built like a football player and that I wasn't thin enough and how I would be "so pretty if I just lost a little weight" (looking back on pictures, I don't think I would ever have been categorized as fat, other than the baby fat in (on?) my face, which would have been there no matter how thin I was)...and despite my husband telling me (pretty much every day) how beautiful he thinks I am, I still doubt him...I mean, what else is he going to say? "Ya know honey, you'd be real purty if you lost some o' that fat!"? Any man with an ounce of self-preservation knows better than to say such a thing to his wife...
After Brian had taken pen to paper around my figure (all the while thinking his wife had completely lost it, I'm sure)...I stared at the picture and then said, "That can't be right. It's too small."
My husband looked at me like I was crazy. So did my friend when I told her.
This morning I got on the scale (and don't tell me I'm not supposed to weigh myself, that I should go by the feel of my clothes or the numbers on the tape measure...I already know that...applying it to myself has never worked)...and the number there did not make me happy...
And I got mad...not just angry or frustrated...mad...
At the scale and at myself...
And I declared angrily, "That's it! No food (except the ones that make my stomach blow up-like gluten) is off limits! I'm tired of this crap!"
My thinking is that if no food is off limits, it will no longer hold some sort of power over me (be it gorging on or denying myself said food)...that I will be like my friend...who eats to sustain her body and keep herself healthy...while at the same time not denying herself the small pleasures in life like a nice glass of Merlot if she feels like it...
What I want, more than anything, is to be done with this constant battle...I do not want to send the message to my girls (or to my sons) that there is something wrong with their bodies if they don't look like fitness models...I want to be strong and healthy...physically and mentally...
Just like my friend...
Yes, that's what I said...me. I drive me crazy. And not in a good way...
I am almost 43 years old and I am still fighting the demons that tell me I'm not good enough...wait, no...not that I'm not good enough...that I'm not thin enough...fit enough...not perfect...
After my karate class Saturday morning, I was talking with a friend of mine...I admire her a lot...she's a second degree black belt, knows how to shoot an AK-47, is smart, funny, beautiful, happily married...she has written I don't know how many books, has a law degree and is just an amazing woman...and she seems to be perfectly comfortable with her body...
She is exactly the kind of woman I want to be when I grow up...
Anyway, I was telling her that I had asked Brian to draw my outline on a huge piece of paper...
"Why?" she wanted to know.
Good question.
The answer is that I have an inability to see my body the way it actually looks. I trace it back to my childhood (and I am not one to blame all of my problems on what happened when I was a kid), but in this case, I spent years hearing how I was built like a football player and that I wasn't thin enough and how I would be "so pretty if I just lost a little weight" (looking back on pictures, I don't think I would ever have been categorized as fat, other than the baby fat in (on?) my face, which would have been there no matter how thin I was)...and despite my husband telling me (pretty much every day) how beautiful he thinks I am, I still doubt him...I mean, what else is he going to say? "Ya know honey, you'd be real purty if you lost some o' that fat!"? Any man with an ounce of self-preservation knows better than to say such a thing to his wife...
After Brian had taken pen to paper around my figure (all the while thinking his wife had completely lost it, I'm sure)...I stared at the picture and then said, "That can't be right. It's too small."
My husband looked at me like I was crazy. So did my friend when I told her.
This morning I got on the scale (and don't tell me I'm not supposed to weigh myself, that I should go by the feel of my clothes or the numbers on the tape measure...I already know that...applying it to myself has never worked)...and the number there did not make me happy...
And I got mad...not just angry or frustrated...mad...
At the scale and at myself...
And I declared angrily, "That's it! No food (except the ones that make my stomach blow up-like gluten) is off limits! I'm tired of this crap!"
My thinking is that if no food is off limits, it will no longer hold some sort of power over me (be it gorging on or denying myself said food)...that I will be like my friend...who eats to sustain her body and keep herself healthy...while at the same time not denying herself the small pleasures in life like a nice glass of Merlot if she feels like it...
What I want, more than anything, is to be done with this constant battle...I do not want to send the message to my girls (or to my sons) that there is something wrong with their bodies if they don't look like fitness models...I want to be strong and healthy...physically and mentally...
Just like my friend...
Monday, January 31, 2011
Know What Drives Me Nuts?...
...when I say I want to do something or go somewhere and someone (usually someone older) says, "Oh, you don't want to do that!"
Well, actually, yes, I do. Because, you see, if I didn't want to do something a certain way or go to a certain place, I wouldn't have said, "I want to do this" (insert desire here)...
And while I appreciate that whoever has claimed to know me better than I know myself has my best interest at heart and wishes to impart his or her experience to me, really? I'm old enough to decide for myself what I do or don't want to do...
So when I want your advice on how to live my life, I'll ask you for it...until then, remember, you've lived your life your way and done it the way you wanted...it's my turn to do the same...
Well, actually, yes, I do. Because, you see, if I didn't want to do something a certain way or go to a certain place, I wouldn't have said, "I want to do this" (insert desire here)...
And while I appreciate that whoever has claimed to know me better than I know myself has my best interest at heart and wishes to impart his or her experience to me, really? I'm old enough to decide for myself what I do or don't want to do...
So when I want your advice on how to live my life, I'll ask you for it...until then, remember, you've lived your life your way and done it the way you wanted...it's my turn to do the same...
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