The morning in paradise

I had a great weekend, it started off in a little corner of heaven called Deep Cove.  I went hiking with a friend of mine, Carol-Ann.  I could describe it for you but I thought I'd give you a little picturesque tour of my morning!

Now I didn't take any photos of the beginning of the trail which was very steep and had me huffing and puffing within seconds.  It was really rather pathetic and even more so when an old man ran past us as if I was standing still!

This was the first picture I took, it was just so beautiful I had to capture it.

Anyway, as we went along our way I was awed by the incredible beauty of our surroundings, it was amazing.  even at 7:30 in the morning on a Saturday.  When I first committed to get up and into North Vancouver by 7am my inner voice was shouting "ARE YOU NUTS?!?!?"

As I walked on I felt the stress and the worries slowly drift away on that creek and in the air and in my heart.  for a moment I was completely at peace.

A poem for the moment:

The stream lightly moves

Wet moss covered rocks frolic

Nourishing my heart

 
 
 
So Carol-Ann and I walked up, and up and up until we stood on a giant rock and looked over deep cove.  I have to say looking over that mist shrouded morning made me feel alive and somehow a part of it all.  It was amazing.
 
 

 

 

I was wet from the misty rain and my legs were killing me from the killer climb but when I stood on this rock and overlooked the cove it was all worth it. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here is Carol-Ann and I on our way down the trail, do you see the glow on my face?  Yeah, that's called sweat.

After we finished our hike Carol-Ann took me to a lovely place where she and her husband volunteer their time, it is a bird refuge called Maplewood, and it is gorgeous!  We walked through the trails here because the two hours of leg killing hiking wasn't enough for us, we were gluttons for punishment!

This log just struck me for some reason, it was a stump of a tree, which had obviously died but on it was new growth, like the Phoenix, that arose from the ashes.  So as you can see not only was my hike beautiful but it infused my psyche with some much needed optimism and peace.  Life has been so incredibly hectic recently that I have forgotten to stop and look at the beautiful place that surrounds me and just feel.  Feel alive, feel at peace, feel at one with myself.  It felt good.  I need to do this more often and not just for the benefit of my fat ass.

Anyway, the rest of my weekend was lovely too, my mother in law had a brief visit (not long enough though!) so we got to spend time with her, which the kids love, they adore her!  Our friend Tony came over, he and my lovely husband cooked us an awesome steak and lobster dinner!  (Photos to come to prove it) I helped my sister pack (you pack rat you!) and with the help of mucho flax seed and fibre i think I pooped out part of my colon today.  I know, after all of this beauty I had to go and ruin in and mention poop, but come on, it wouldn't be me if I didn't.

For the love of sushi

It always amazes me after a long weekend how the week seems to drag by like it somehow stuck in a time warp and four days stretch into a seemingly endless stream of minutes, hours, days. How can four days feel like forty? It’s Thursday today but feels like it should be Saturday. If it were Saturday I sure as heck would not be awake at this hour!


I’m getting ready for work. I know it’s an exciting chore. Shower, dress, brush hair, brush teeth, put on war paint and fragrance to disguise my truly evil nature. She can’t be bad she smells so good, MWAHAHAHAH.

This week has been relatively uneventful, no flying poop or other such shenanigans. It’s a sad state of affairs when you begin to judge your week by poop incidents. You know you’re a parent when. It’s funny how things change when you become a parent. Take milk for instance. Before kids it was just milk. Now that I have kids there are two kinds of milk, chocolate and white. I love the look on the waitresses face when you ask for white milk. You can tell right away if she has kids or not. If she has kids she nods her head with total understanding. If she doesn’t she looks at you like you’ve grown another head while she stood there. That’s also the case when you ask the waitress to put the kids meal into the freezer for a couple of minutes before brining it out. If she doesn’t have kids she just doesn’t get it. Why would you do that lady? She’ll learn. The first time her kid picks up a piping hot French fry and pops it into their mouth.

So I’ve been pretty good this week, I’ve managed to peel my lazy behind out of bed and go walking every morning (well except this morning). I’ve been watching what I eat (mostly)and exercising, you’re probably thinking I must have lost weight then! Nope. I stepped on the scale yesterday morning. I’ve gained five pounds. Wow this diet and exercise thing is really working for me. Good thing I gave up all food that tastes good, otherwise I would be fat. Oh wait a minute. Sigh. Grunt. Whine.

I’ve been taking a lot of vitamins lately in the same vein as the whole healthy lifestyle thing but I swear it just messes me up more. I’ve been taking iron because I am border line anaemic and after my period I’m down right exhausted. The problem with that is that the industrial size fibre intake and iron intake battle with my colon making my bowel movements kind of bipolar. One minute I feel like I’m trying to poop out a watermelon, the next it’s like I’ve lost control of a pressure washer. It’s a fun guessing game every time I get that little gurgle in my stomach.

On a totally unrelated note, I have a great life, no sarcasm. I was driving to work today and it just kind of hit me in the gut. I have a great husband, great kids, great friends, a good job, a nice home, life is grand. I know I poke fun at a lot of aspects of my life but I do so strictly for my own amusement…and to keep my husband on his toes.

Speaking of Scott, I told him I loved him in the best possible way yesterday, I bought him sushi. Nothing says “I love you” like raw fish, rice and seaweed. I did hint that it was like him getting me flowers. Do you think he got the hint? Yeah, I know, not likely. Maybe I should tell him the pool water is “fine”.

Butter chicken cleanses and submarines

Where did the weekend go, have any of you seen it? One second it was here right in front of me and I blink my eyes for just a second it seems and it’s gone. Sigh. If only I could live in a soap opera, where everyone seems to be independently wealthy and always has great hair.

I did get a lot accomplished this weekend from cleaning out the fridge, which had seriously bad garlic breath, to cleaning out my bedroom closet. I also managed to clean the house, weed the garden, help my sister pack boxes and even went out for dinner. I know, what can I say, I’m amazing.

Speaking of dinner, we went to the All you can Eat Indian buffet not too far from us. It always makes me feel better when I go to an all you can eat with Scott, because he seems to take that as a personal mission, to eat as much as he can possibly stuff in his face. It doesn’t make me feel so bad for not doing that. Although it makes me a bit envious, how he can shovel food in like he’s saving up for hibernation and not gain weight. Me, I look at the food and somehow it’s already relocated to my hips.

I had my favourite, butter chicken, mmm, mmm, mmm good. I still stand by my theory though, that butter chicken works wonders in cleaning out the colon. The morning after eating it my body seems to say “evacuate, evacuate!” I should patent the “butter chicken cleanse”.

I got up at five am this morning to go for a walk. It was a lovely morning, just slightly sprinkling with rain, light, birds singing, cars starting to make their way to work. I must be completely mentally unbalanced. This weekend I decided enough is enough. I was sorting through the giant pile of clothing that doesn’t fit and decided I needed to fit into them again. Cramming my body into them as is doesn’t work, trust me, I tried. Apparently there is no other way besides the whole diet and exercise thing so I guess that is what I’ll do. Again.

Speaking of being active, Finnegan is growing up too fast! He is saying new words every day and some of them I can even understand! He got a new toddler bed this weekend and loves it. By new I mean recycled from my sister, who had it in her garage. It’s in the shape of a VW Bug, with holes in the sides, ends and top. He climbed into bed last night, pulled up his covers and smiled at the daddy as he waved goodbye. He really is the cutest toddler, with his giant eyelashes that Tammy Faye Baker would be envious of.

Toddlers may be adorable but they are still gross. Finnegan was in the bathtub on Sunday morning and decided to take a poop, and not just a little poop but a giant log. One minute the kid is squatting (hey don’t judge me, I thought he was playing!) and the next minute there is a giant submarine floating in the water. Apparently he thought it was gross too so he picked it up before i could stop him and hucked it out of the tub onto the floor. That is when I did what any sane mother would do. I yelled “HONEY!  Come deal with your son!”

We went swimming last night, the outdoor pool in our townhouse complex opened this weekend, and the kids were raring to go. It was pretty nice out so we decided to try it out. I sent Scott and Meghan on a scouting mission to see if the water was okay. They came back to say it was fine so we all made our way over to the pool. I’m not sure what Scott’s definition of “fine” is but the water was colder than hell frozen over. The man is seriously delusional. I jumped in and I swear to god I couldn’t breathe. After swimming laps for a couple of minutes it wasn’t as bone chilling but it was cool. After about twenty minutes Finnegan’s teeth were chattering so loud it sounded like Morse code.

I’m thinking though, that since Scott said it was “Fine” but it wasn’t, maybe he really is beginning to understand the code of woman.

Hazard pay

I’m pooped. No I haven’t had too much fibre (although the way I’ve been crop dusting all day would indicate this), I’m just really tired, like someone took my body for a joy ride and put it away before I noticed. (And no it wasn’t Scott, you perverts.) Although I’m sure Scott wishes he had, sadly he’s working graveyards this week so the only man sleeping next to me is seven and drooling on his dads pillow. He’s super cute especially now that he’s asleep and not moving and talking a mile a minute. Logan got a hair cut the other day and looks presentable again. He has very thick hair and I always know it’s time for a haircut when it starts to look like he’s wearing a hair helmet on his head. He got it cut pretty short and was all happy about the spikey hair; apparently “it looks fancy”. He seems to have an obsession about looking fancy these days although I’m not sure how fancy one can look prancing around in tighty-whitey underpants.

Do you ever notice how quickly kids grow and change? Meghan has suddenly turned from my sweet, sensitive perfect daughter to a raging, argumentative ball of hormones that vaguely resembles her, it’s so fun to talk to her on the phone these days “Hi, yeah, no, bye”, she’s just so expressive. Although she does seem to be communicating with barking seals lately. With her allergies acting up she sounds like a seasoned smoker, it’s a delightful sound, almost as fun for me as somebody chewing with their mouth open. It’s no wonder I’m heavily medicated, between puberty and allergy season one of us may not survive. I should definitely be getting hazard pay.

I cannot believe that my baby boy Finnegan will be two next month, it just doesn’t seem possible. It’s strange, in one way it feels like it’s been forever and in another it feels like I was just pregnant. Maybe it’s because I still look pregnant or that my psyche has fragmented and lost large pieces of time. I’m pretty sure they call that motherhood. Finnegan’s communication skills are improving rapidly, I can now understand about every fourth word that comes out of his mouth which is more than I can say about half the people I know! (It’s a joke, geesh, I didn’t mean YOU, I meant everyone else but you...)

Speaking of communication, at work I am currently preparing for an interview I may or may not be invited to; does that not strike you as completely insane? I’ve created a spreadsheet of possible behavioural interview questions and examples I have for each, now I have to study them. My luck none of the questions asked in the interview will be even remotely similar to those I’ve studied! Anyway, I believe I will be interviewed but where and when are unknown and a bit stressful. Pfft, I laugh in the face of stress (and maybe shed an extra thirty pounds of hair!)

Not that shedding would make much difference to me, I’m like a chia pet on crack; the hair just keeps on growing and growing and growing. Every time I run my hand through my hair my hand comes away with large chunks of hair. For the average person this would be devastating and bald spots would be a definite. For me you can’t even notice, except the giant piles of hair everywhere. In my bathroom I have giant hair bunnies where many small creatures could happily make their home. Finnegan likes to find my hair; the kid has a really gross hair fetish. He takes a long piece of hair and runs it through his mouth like dental floss. That kid has some serious issues. He must get them from Scott.

Speaking of Scott, do any of you ever wonder how man and woman can live together without killing each other? Men are so annoying, they don’t truly appreciate the value of folding laundry, or wiping the counters clean, or making their significant others feel sexy, loved and appreciated. Men think if they take them for a joy ride they’ve done their job! Well boys I hate to tell you but foreplay for the middle aged woman includes housework, spontaneous flowers, discussions and a deep seated appreciation for the absolute rulers of their universe! Don’t get me wrong Scott is a great guy, smart, sensitive, funny, he cooks and is a great dad. Ask him to clean up or plan a romantic evening and I may as well have asked him to fly. I love you honey but seriously I could use some good romancing and some folded laundry!

Sometimes I think maybe my expectations are too high and then I remember, hey wait a minute I can do them why can’t everyone else!

So that’s a day in the life of, I know, boring and a little disturbing but aren’t you glad you have validation that someone is at least as messed up as you?

Messages of love, written in dirt

My life has become a series of spreadsheets and lists. Schedules, budgets, interview question practice, wish lists, goal lists, chore charts and “to do” lists for my “to do” lists. My life has been reduced to what can neatly be placed in columns and cells (Too bad for my hubby I haven’t added an intimacy column).

Do you ever wonder where time goes? Finnegan will be two years old next month and I still look pregnant. Apparently my body isn’t aware of the fast pace of time either. Speaking of Finnegan the boy is a nudist. Logan will be so proud. Last Thursday morning I heard him chattering to himself so I went in to get him out of his crib. When I walked in he was standing there with a grin from ear to ear completely naked. His footy jammies and diaper lay discarded beside him.

I don’t understand where my children get their desire to be naked from, it’s not like I wander around the house in my underwear or anything…oh wait…never mind, next topic.

This morning while helping Logan get his lunch together he asked if he could have one of the chocolate chip cookies we were putting in his lunch. Since he’d had a big bowl of Mini Wheat’s I said he could. He grabbed a cookie, stared at it with adoration and said “Oh, cookie you are a yummy ball of goodness”. He then promptly shoved the whole cookie into his mouth and munched happily. Kids are so weird.

This past Friday I went to a movie with my friend Shannon. We went to see Letters from Juliet, a romantic comedy, which was very good. I haven’t laughed so hard in a very long time. No, the movie wasn’t all that funny, but the lady in the row front of us sure was. She had gone to the bathroom and upon returning sat in the wrong chair (the seat next to hers). As she sat down I heard a loud “crunch” as she sat on her (or someone else’s) bag of popcorn. For some reason this struck me as the funniest thing on the planet, especially when Shannon turned to look at me grinning like a maniac.

I had just started to calm down ten minutes later when the lady casually got up and slid into the correct seat, sans popcorn bag. That got me going again and it was another ten minutes before I could breathe without bursting into totally inappropriate laughter. I suppose you had to be there to see the humour in it but let me tell you I STILL laugh when I think about it.

Speaking of romantic comedies, it’s amazing how your thoughts change as a relationship progresses from the blush of first love into the comfortableness of marriage, kids, life. I was driving behind a truck the other day on the way home from work that had “I love Daniel” written in the dirt. I though “aw how sweet” before immediately thinking about what I would have written if it were Scott’s car. It would say something romantic like “Wash your damn car Scott”.

But I’d say it with love.

Mother's day and voluntary torture.

My body hurts. When I say this I don’t mean in a good “I’m alive” kind of way. I mean it in the most negative of ways, with a lot of whining and groaning attached. I walked in the Vancouver Sun run this past Sunday, a total of 10k in 1 hour and 50 minutes. It was a beautiful sunny, Mother’s day morning and the walk itself turned out pleasantly. In fact after I finished I smugly thought “I should do this more often”. I’m an idiot.

Three days later and I can sort of move my legs without complaining. (I complain anyway because I can). I made the mistake of going bike riding the next evening with my Girl Guide unit. Now my legs AND my ass hurt. It’s rather symbolic that I chose to torture myself on Mother’s day. It was kind of like labour and delivery in retrospect. You start out going “Hey, this isn’t so bad” to “WHAT WAS I THINKING; I DON”T WANNA DO THIS ANYMORE!” then afterwards you walk around like you crapped a baby out of your vagina for a week. Happy mother’s day to me.

Well I did it. I set a goal and accomplished it. Apparently training before hand would have prevented the whole pain issue, personally I kind of think it may have prolonged it.

When I was busy whining about it yesterday one of the ladies that work in the department next door commented that it was a good thing. I looked at her like she was insane. She completely ignored my stink eye as she then inserted common sense and logic into the conversation. She raised her perfect eyebrow and stated “We only have one body, we don’t get another one, so it’s best we take care of it” and went on to give some more sage advice before sauntering off, her perfect figure figuratively flipping me the bird.

All it made me think about was I wished I could get an upgrade. Sigh, ow!

My children and husband cleaned the house on Friday for me (sort of) for Mother’s day and were so proud of themselves you would have thought they’d cured disease. I wonder what would happen if I did that every time I cleaned the house. It was nice though and I really did bite my tongue and didn’t mention the little piles of stuff in corners, on counters, etc. That alone should have made me the best mother ever.

Meghan and I put in our garden this weekend, another layer to my body torture. The garden looks great (for now) but who knew bending was so hard when you’re fat. I ended up sitting in the middle of the garden and weeding around me. Not a pretty sight, but effective.

Muliebrity (The sense of being a woman) - Dictionary.com word of the day

Boobs – check
Although a little lower

Vagina – check
Although a little wider

Sense of humour – check
Although a little more peculiar

Children – check
Although a little messier

Muliebrity – intact

Has Anyone seen my lollypop?

Okay I am back on track! After not just falling off the clean eating wagon but also falling into a deep fryer of greasy fast food goodness I have decided to behave once again. I’ve had so much water in the past two days I could fill a water cooler. I feel kind of LIKE a water cooler, sloshing when I move suddenly. I also tried these “internal cleanse” herbal pills, which by the way is just secret code for holy crap I just shit a Buick and six of its closest relatives.
Sadly Scott’s weight loss method of taking a dump isn’t working so well for me but it could be because my bladder is so over enlarged and set to burst at any moment. I haven’t had a diet coke in two days, man it’s hard when all around you people are drinking it. Tea is just as satisfying; really it is (okay maybe if I was an old English lady it would be). I really need to try to be successful at this though, it`s really depressing to walk by a mirror and think `Who`s that fat chick? OMG that overinflated Shannon doll is me!!!

I’ve also started taking my iron pills again, which I’m hoping will give me more much needed energy. Although the bottle should warn you “CAUTION MAY CAUSE REALLY BLACK POOP” so you don’t madly go over your diet from the past twenty four hours wondering when you last ate tar.

I’m in the midst of a three day leadership course right now, which is very interesting indeed. We did a survey before the course started and from that we received a profile that detailed our individual management styles. I know this will come to a shock to all of you who know me but apparently I’m action oriented, fast paced and results focused. Apparently they haven’t been reading my blog. My profile was actually pretty accurate but it’s funny how people at my table learned this about me and all got this pained look on their faces like “Okay now she kinda scares me” . I suppose it’s a good thing none of them have read my blog either!

I attended Megs choir “Spring Sing” last night where three elementary schools and the high school choirs got together to put on a concert. My baby girl sang a solo and let me tell you she was amazing, I was so proud of her. I suppose coming from her mother it isn’t really an accurate indicator of talent though considering I was probably just as proud the first time she pooped on the potty and that honestly doesn’t take much talent at all, although it apparently takes talent to not pee on the seat in a public bathroom. Every time I go to the bathroom in a public stall I swear there is pee on the seat and this is in the ladies! How is that possible? When I go I sit my fat ass on the toilet and pee into the giant hole in the middle.

There has been the odd time however where I thought someone has peed on the seat until I wipe the liquid up, mumble and complain to myself, go potty, flush the toilet and have to jump back not to get my pants wet. Some of those public toilets have quite the flush; it’s like a mini tidal wave in the bowl. I especially love the automatic flushers that flush mid flow and splash up onto your ass like you’re sitting on a bidet. That used to freak the crap out of Meghan when she was little and not much scared that kid. I think she was afraid she’d go down with the water.

How is it that my mind flow always ends up in the toilet? Man, I need to get out more! Anyway, back on topic, Megs did a wonderful job and her school choir was amazing! When the next choir got up to sing it wasn’t so amazing, my ears still hurt from the experience.

Not much else is new in my world, Finnegan is still fascinated with his penis, and Logan is too, if I think about it Scott probably is too. Meghan has actual boobs now which are mildly disturbing; she’s in the half a woman still a baby stage that I’ll probably see her in forever.

It’s 11pm and I’m pooped, my brain hurts from all of the edumucating today, so I’m hitting the sack but will be back soon. On a parting note Finnegan got his lollipop stuck to the back of his head the other day which was amusing especially after I removed said lolly from his head and he had a little peacock thing going on at the back of his head. He’s funny that way; he sticks his lollypops in funny places to save them for later, usually on the side of a chair, the wall, a toy. Then when he comes and points to his Halloween candy bin and I tell him not right now he simply goes to his secret stash, pulls one off of wherever and pops it into his mouth. He’s a resourceful kid.

Toddler Torture and cable TV

Wow it’s been a busy week! Thursday night was Logan’s turn for a Spring Concert; it was the Primary kids turn at the microphone! Timing dictated that I meet them at the school straight from work and wouldn’t you know it, an eight car fender bender on the bridge! So I had a harrowing journey across the Lower Mainland to get there on time to hear two hundred little kids sing off key! It was a close call and very stressful indeed. Scott was in charge of getting one twelve year old girl, one seven year old boy and a toddler there and the way he whined it sounded like he was personally ushering the two hundred kids! (I make fun but if our roles were reversed I’d most likely be whining a heck of a lot louder, but then I have double standards.) Upon getting the kids into the van and pulling out of our parking spot Logan piped up “Where’s my tuxedo? I wanna look fancy”


The kid wears jogging pants, tee shirts and that’s about it. He complains if his pants don’t have an elastic waist and hates wearing jeans. I swear sometimes he’s channelling my true feelings. Anyway when Scott told me that I almost peed my pants, trust Logan to have some wacky thought process, I have no idea where he gets that from (shut up Scott). He didn’t look fancy but he did look cute, up there on stage with his classmates singing with hand movements and facial expressions. If there is one thing Logan can do well it is facial expressions. Too bad he’s not marked on that. After the concert when I went to pick him up at his classroom his teacher looked exhausted and in serious need of a drink, kind of what I look like on a Saturday night when I’ve spent the entire day with my children.

I loved the plea at the beginning of the concert when the principal got up and asked that people do not try to sneak out after their kid’s song was finished, could you imagine the mass exodus if he hadn’t mentioned that? Instead we were all forced to sit through the torture. I joke, but it really was quite sweet, the little kids are so wonderful with their honest voices, facial expressions and smiles. Do any of you ever even remember the days you were just so confident in yourself, so uninhibited, so free to go wholly with the moment without worry, regret or thought? I certainly don’t, I over analyse every little thing, it’s really rather pathetic. Isn’t it funny how human nature works? Someone looks at you funny and you instantly start wondering what you’ve done, why they’re upset with you, then your mind goes in fifteen different directions looking for the answer, when really the other person was concentrating on not farting, or what to make for dinner or some other completely unrelated to you event.

That could be just a woman thing though, I could imagine Scott looking over at Bill and upon seeing a funny look on his face either thinking “Dude’s trying not to fart” or not even registering that Bill has a funny look on his face.

Do you ever deliberately torture your children? Its fun you should try it. I just have to mention the word period or cramps and Megs face gets all red and she mumbles “yeah mom I know”. Do it in public and the reaction is even more satisfying. I figure by the time I’m done explaining in detail all about the body and sex she’ll be so grossed out she will never want to try it! It kind of backfires with Logan though, he apparently inherited my innate sense of curiosity and all he wants is MORE information, which in his seven year old brain he processes completely wonky and the output is so much funnier.

In other news Finnegan has a new game. Yesterday morning the kid pooped out a basketball so needed a bath (aren’t you all so glad I share these details?). Since I hadn’t had my shower yet I decided we’d have one together, since Finnegan likes that. I stripped him down and was putting my contact lenses in so I could see the little bugger. When I had finally glued them onto my eyeballs I turned to see what all the giggling was about. Finnegan was leaning his elbows onto the ledge of the bathtub, swivelling his hips, looking down and giggling at his bouncing penis. I think I may have wasted a lot of money on unnecessary toys for this kid; all he ever really needed was his penis and containers. Toy companies would make a killing just selling the packaging of toys, no need to put the toy in!

Yesterday was Saturday, and before leaving for Beaveree, Scott took Finnegan down to Meghan and asked her to watch her brother so I could get a bit of extra sleep. Twenty minutes later Finnegan is bouncing on my bed, trying to peel my eyelids open and giggling as he burrows into the blankets. When I brought the little bugger back down to his sister she seemed surprised he was missing she was so busy watching cartoons (cable is having a brain melting affect on this household!) You’d think that she’d learn to pay more attention. Nope. The toddler escaped once again and after twenty five minutes of very active toddler torture of the mama I brought the little bundle of evil back down to his sister. She says “He escaped again?” “Yes Meg TWENTY FIVE MINUTES AGO”. Man puberty stinks, I’m not sure if any of us will survive!

Just an end note, then later when I asked her if she had done what I had asked to her to do when she woke up (sort through her clothes, try on and put all items that don’t fit into a pile) she used the excuse “No I was watching Finn”...I should get points for the fact she still stands unharmed.