Wednesday, 30 November 2011

Sometimes You Just Have to Borrow Confidence from Your Therapist

So the past couple of weeks have been down ones.  The reasons are plentiful and yet relatively insignificant if I weren't already, you know, depressed.

This whole depression has had one hell of an effect on my career.  Honestly, there are days when I feel lucky to still have a job.  I have lost almost all of my confidence at work.  I second guess myself pretty much all of the time and struggle to make decisions.  So basically, I am just the type of employee all businesses are looking for . . . or not.

Today I was working on my 2011 self-evaluation.  Wow, when one is already struggling with a pretty much total lack of self-confidence at work it is really hard to sit down and revisit one of the worst years in my career. 

I sat there staring at my computer screen trying desperately to come up something positive to write . . . to come up with one strength that I showed over this past year.  You know what I came up with . . . the ability to complete the necessary tasks under challenging circumstances.  I am not really certain that it is actually a positive when I was the source of these challenging circumstances. 

Luckily this self-evaluation coincided with a session with my therapist.  Oh yes, you did in fact read that correctly . . . I am about to write something positive about my therapist.

By the time I got to her office I had spent a good chunk of the morning slipping lower and lower, on the verge of tears and pretty much hating myself.  I sat down in her office and she asked me how things were and informed her that things could be better.

And then the tears started.  The words came tumbling out.  My fears that my depression has done serious damage to my career.  My struggles to try and figure out how to evaluate my worst year.  My intense sadness at how much time I have lost to this effing depression.

You know what she said . . . she said that it wasn't the worst year of my career . . . it was the year that helped me to determine that I needed help and I was strong enough to seek it out.  As silly as this may sound, just hearing her say she was proud of how hard I have been working these past few months made me feel good. 

I have been working hard.  I have been trying to reframe my thinking and find ways of recognising and dealing with my triggers so that I don't spiral back downwards.  I admitted that I desperately needed help and I got medication.  I accepted responsibility for actions that were not positive, that were a symptom of my depression, and I tried to learn from them.

So today I walked out of my therapists office determined to borrow her confidence in me to complete my evaluation . . . and I did.  Hopefully some day, in the very near future, I will have some confidence of my very own . . . that will certainly be a step towards being able to say that I "Survived PPD".


Tuesday, 29 November 2011


Becoming a parent brings with it a whole host of emotions . . . which I am sure most of you already know.

There is of course the whole overwhelming joy, love and pride.  The ubiquitous mommy guilt.  There are days when frustration seems to be the most prominent emotion. 

Then of course there can be nagging fears.  The occasionally worry that something could harm your child.  Fearing for their safety as they climb to the highest point on the jungle gym. 

I admit that there are a couple of fears that preoccupy my mind every once in a while. There are days, particularly when the little man seems to be at his most two-year old self, when I fear that my depression may be having a negative affect on him.  You see, the little guy has seen me at my worst, my lowest, my most horrible parenting moments. 

So if kids learn how to deal with their own emotions by watching their parents what has my son learnt?  He has learnt that mommy is often reacts with anger, occasionally almost out of control, when faced with challenges.  Needless to say, that is not how I want to react to challenges and that is certainly not how I want him to react to them. 

I am not one of those people who thinks of death all that often but I have to admit that every once in a while I worry about my family if something where to happen to me.  I am not afraid that Brad wouldn't be able to handle things and be all that my kidlets need because he is an amazing father, I fear not being here to watch my kids grow up. 

This morning the fear is there.  A worry that a little nothing may not actually be nothing.  Of course it may be nothing . . . but what if it isn't.  Sigh

If I am being honest with myself, I do believe that this fear is rather baseless and yet there it is, front and centre in my mind. 

Perhaps it is the rainy weather that has brought these fears to the front of my mind.  Perhaps it is the fact that cause of this nagging worry is causing me some pain today.  Perhaps I have become a wee bit of a drama queen much like Little Miss.

Anyone else out there worry have any nagging health concerns that occasionally turn into nagging fears of death?  Sigh.


Sunday, 27 November 2011

Counting to Ten Under My Breath

My kids are driving me absolutely nuts today.  The whining . . . so much whining!  I have to say that I am rather impressed by how quickly kids seem to deduct that they can really get to their parents when they alter their voice into a high nasally pitched drawl. 

That being said, I am using today as a opportunity to work on developing my patience and work on breathing through the annoyance.  I am not going to lie to you . . . I certainly haven't been 100% successful with this whole technique but I haven't lost my shit every time the kidlets whine so I see that as a positive.

We are pondering an offer that was presented to us last weekend.  This offer is amazing, fantastic and  one hell of a memory maker offer.  It will also test my patience in a way that it has not yet been tested.  Ah see, now you understand why I am working on this whole counting to 10 under my breath . . . I have to see if I can do this before we accept!

 . . .

We were out running some errands today when someone made a comment that really got me thinking. Upon watching the little guy wandering with a colouring book on his head, this innocent bystander mentioned that she wouldn't mind going back to being that small.  I laughed and responded that according to him, his life is oh so rough.

We have hit the terrible twos in a way we never did with Little Miss.  My god but he feels the need to fight us at every step.  Oh yes, I know that he is learning to determine his place in this world but as he is doing that . . . he is driving me closer and closer to my exit from this world. 

Words are still slow to come, at least ones that make any sense, but the little man does have a couple that are very clear.  Oh yes No and Mine are clear as day!  According to him everything belongs to him and anything I suggest is meant with a loud NO!  Sigh. 

He is stubborn and pitches fits with such passion that it would be impressive if it weren't so damned frustrating! 

That being said, my pain in the neck two year old is also so amazing with his love.  His hugs make all the frustrating personality traits worth it.  Now that he has figured out how to kiss . . . sigh . . . this mommy is proud.  Okay, I admit I would prefer if the kisses were less of the open mouth, directly on the lips kind but there is a great deal of love behind them so I am not going to complain!

. . .

Hey, guess who was asked to co-instruct the kickboxing classes next Saturday . . . I will give you one guess . . . YES, it is me!!  I am so excited to get back into instructing fitness classes.  We have already worked out a plan for the class and I think it is going to be a good, challenging one. 

The moral of this post is that even when the kiddos are driving me totally nuts, my life is pretty amazing and I am going to be a kickboxing instructor!

Thursday, 24 November 2011

Sleep . . . That was So 2006!

I honestly thought that being an insomniac since I was in my teens would have prepared me for the sleep deprivation that came along with this whole parenting thing . . . apparently my kidlets had an entirely different opinion and felt the need to challenge this assumption. 

Sleeping through the night hasn't really happened, at least not on a regular basis, since the end of 2006.  Oh yes, you read that correctly it has been over 4 years since I have slept through the night on a consistent basis.  You see it was December 2006 that I got pregnant with Little Miss and then the sore boobs, hormone shifts and puking kept me up many a night.  Then the kids came along. 

Of course, I then went and had two of the crappiest sleepers known to mankind . . . they are totally adorable but totally killing me with the lack of sleep.  There was a period when Litttle Miss was about 10 months old until we moved her into her big girl bed at 20 months that she did sleep through the night.  However, at that time she took to get up at or before the crack of stupid.  Clarification: 5am is the crack or stupid . . . before that is well . . . before the crack of stupid.  Ah yes, then the big bed messed it all up.  Then the little guy arrived and sleep began something that I remembered doing . . . once upon a time.

Yesterday my body informed me that it had had enough of this crap.  You see, the little man has been battling a horrible cough, thus not sleeping, and still getting up at or before the a fore mentioned crack of stupid.  I sat at work trying to focus on the screen while my eyes felt like they were going to explode and my stomach river-danced back and forth.  The dreaded migraine found me and told me just how badly my body was missing sleep.

I was able to get a little bit extra and that helped ease the migraine . . . thank goodness . . . but I know that if things don't eventually start to get better with the kids, it will happen again.  Sigh

With all the coughing, puking and not being able to open my eyes, I am totally behind on updating my whole Team #workingforlessjunkinthetruck progress.  I actually have some progress which is nice.

I weighed myself this morning which is two days behind when I normally do but honestly, it is a little thing that I am deciding not to stress over.

Starting Weight: 174.4 lbs.
Current Weight: 171.8 lbs.

Yay I am down but that may have had to do with the whole being sick thing yesterday.  Now I just need to work on keeping it down and getting it lower!  Also, I know how important sleep is when it comes to weight gain and loss so I am hoping that if I actually start getting more that my body will quit holding onto some of this extra stuff and actually allow me to drop.  Fingers crossed.


Monday, 21 November 2011

Sometimes you Just Know

Well it appears that I have still not quite dug myself out of the hole I dropped myself into last week.  I am closer to that slippery sucker of an edge but not quite there yet.

So I thought I would try and take my mind off of losing my mind by joining in on Stash's Monday Listicle extravaganza.   Hell I am even going to stay on topic this week.

The sweet Jen with one "n" from Just Jennifer thought it would be a great idea to have us list our top 10 or so reasons why we are wanting more kiddos or why we are so done with the babymaking.

10 Reasons Why I am So Out of the Babymaking Business

1. I puked at least once nearly every day of each of my pregnancies.  Seriously water was too much for my oh so hormonally sensitive stomach.  I remember phoning Brad when I was pregnant with the little guy, crying because I was just so thirsty but I was over puking up water.

2.  Basically I puked every day for like 19 months of my life . . . over 2.5 years of my life I puked at least once daily . . . that is longer than an elephant is pregnant . . . that is a very long time to routinely revisit each and every morsel of food I put into my mouth.

3.  I am comfortable with the fact that the husband and I are never outnumbered by kids and so if they decided to gang up on us, we can totally switch to a man-to-man defence.

4.  I have two hands, I have two kids . . . the math just adds up.

5.  Did I mention that I puked every day for about 19 months?! 

6.  The PPD that has been so front and centre with these two pregnancies has almost destroyed me . . . I cannot and will not risk it intensifying with another pregnancy . . . for me it is not worth the risk to my already fragile mental health . . . or lack of mental health.

7.  Brad is shooting blanks so if I was to suddenly find myself with child I would have a whole lot of 'splain' (that was written to sound like Ricky Ricardo talking to Lucy, so it would be sweet if you could read it that way)  to do and if I remember it correctly, that whole "virgin birth" story has already been used.

8.  I can honestly say I don't remember the pain associated with Little's Miss's birth . . . I remember it hurt but I also remember feeling like I could breath through it and I was going to be okay.  I TOTALLY remember the pain associated with Buddy's birth . . . that little guy was stuck and I didn't think he was ever coming out.  Each shift in position brought with it some new and breathtakingly painful way to feel a contraction.  I have no real desire to do that all over again.

9. I have decided that I not longer wish to spend a substantial part of my workday with my head in the office toilet . . . it is just not all that productive a way to spend my day.

10.  Honestly, our family just feels complete, there is nothing missing . . . well except for my mind, my sanity and my ability to do jumping jacks without fear of peeing myself.


Thursday, 17 November 2011

You Know What . . Sometimes There Are No Words

I am not a writer.  I have no aspirations to one day write a novel.  I am not working a day job but dreaming of eventually becoming a full time author.

Interestingly enough, at my day job I am a writer.  I am a contributing writer with a bi-weekly column in a local newspaper.  I have written copy for websites and local history publications.  I have written not one, but four thesis papers.  I admit to a faint dream of one day writing yet another thesis towards earning my PhD. 

Of course I have this space.  My little chunk of the Internet where I once again spend time writing. 

Yet still I do not consider myself a writer. 

Perhaps if I was a writer I wouldn't find myself struggling to find the words to describe just how my heart overflows with love for my kidlets.  Perhaps if I were a writer I would be able to explain just how heartbroken I am that I was not the mother that my kids deserved when they were so little and how depression turned me into a sort of rage filled pathetic monster.  Perhaps if I were a writer I could better express how much the love and support of Brad has meant to me so that he would know to never question my commitment to him and know how much I love him.

Although, perhaps even if I was a writer I would still struggle to find the words.  Perhaps sometimes there just aren't the words.  Perhaps these are the sorts of feelings that are only able to be communicated through actions.  A gentle kiss while cuddling to sleep.  A hug given at a moment when their world seems to be so hard.  A passionate kiss or simply a touch of my hand on his.  Perhaps these are the only ways that such intense emotions can be conveyed. 

My family is my world.  My love for them is deeper than I could ever have imagined.  The joy I get from simply seeing a smile on a face or hearing a giggle coming from the other room . . . there are no words that can describe it.  The pride that overwhelms me as I watch my kiddos growing and support Brad as he awakens to a new path in life . . . more powerful than words. 

Because I am not a writer I suppose that I will have to make certain that my actions can speak for me when words fail me.  I will speak with hugs and kisses.  I will write with laughter and tears.  I will let each of them know that I love them with all of my being with a look.  All because sometimes there are no words.

Tuesday, 15 November 2011

Team #workingforlessjunkinthetrunk 15/11

So team, my head has been in a bit of a dark hole and I admit that, while I have continued with the whole exercising part of this, I haven't been paying attention to the whole weighing in etc.  I will weigh myself tomorrow morning and post where I am at. 

Yesterday I wrote about how I tried to drop down my dosage of my help mommy be a whole lot less angry because there has been a direct correlation between these drugs and the scale rising.  I was feeling frustrated and figured that this might help . . . well if you read Monday's post you know how very wrong I was.

I need to not approach this whole thing from my usual nutty perspective.  I need to remember that I am going to the gym to workout, to have fun with some wonderful friends and to help clear my mind and enjoy the endorphin rush.  What I cannot do is become obsessive and go only to work myself to exhaustion in order to drop the weight. 

My amazing baby sister sent me a message.  She said that Monday's post made her almost cry and that she sees me as a beautiful strong woman.  Oh I so wish I could see myself the way that she sees me.  I am working on becoming more accepting of myself, more gentle with myself. 

So the long and short of this post is, I still really need to be on these meds because my little bit of tinkering has had a pretty profoundly negative affect on me and to be perfectly blunt . . . how I am feeling right now sucks.  I do more or less realize that this is just a momentary blip and I will be feeling better again in short order . . . but I really do hope that that happens sooner rather than later.  Oh yes, and I will post my weight tomorrow!  


Monday, 14 November 2011

Anatomy of a Screw-up

Have you ever just felt like no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you still manage to screw stuff up?

That pretty much sums up how I have been feeling lately.  At work, at home, in my friendships . . . I just feel like I keep screwing up the simplest things.  While on the surface each event may seem rather minor but they are adding up and when added to the larger screw-ups that I created during the darkest time, I am beginning to fear that I may never recover entirely from this.

Take for example the fact that I decided that perhaps I was ready to lower my dosage of meds this weekend.  I am trying to drop the extra weight I gained when my dosage was upped and thought that I was more than ready to go back to the lower dose . . . basically I was tired of the whole feeling fat yet mentally stable but was not expecting to go back to being thinner yet mentally cracked.  Turns out I could not have been more wrong.

Late Sunday morning I realized that not only did I not take my second pill the night before but I had forgotten to take my pill in the morning.  No harm, no foul right . . . WRONG.  I was a complete mess.  I could not cope.  My anxiety was higher than it had been in months and I was crying because my kids just kept asking me to do stuff for them.  Yeah, needless to say it appears that not only am I NOT ready to drop down with my dosage but I may just have to try and figure out some other way to help drop this extra weight.

These little screw-ups just keep happening . . .  forgetting to do a simple but very important task at work . . . making plans with a friend and then falling asleep and thus missing the plans . . . and lately it feels like each little screw-up has more and more weight to it.  More judgement from those around me.  More damage to my reputation.  Each little screw-up chipping away at me . . . chipping away at the possibility of ever returning to where I was before the darkness settled in.


Friday, 11 November 2011

TGIF: Remembrance Day Edition

Friday is Remembrance Day here in Canada.  It is a day when we stop and remember all those men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice for their country.  It is a day that I remember how proud I am that my Grandfathers bravely went off to war and how lucky I am that they came back. 
I decided to repost this post that I wrote in June after seeing yet another repatriated soldier's remains travelling up the Highway of Heroes.  It is a powerful thing to experience and one that makes me cry each and every time.

I am Canadian. We Canadians are not known for grandiose exhibitions patriotism . . . well unless there is a rather important hockey game, then put me in the red and white, paint a maple leaf on my face and watch me go a wee bit Canada crazy. A spontaneous grassroots outpouring of patriotism has put that reputation to the test.

The Canadian Armed Forces have been over in Afghanistan since 2001. Each time one of our soldiers is killed, their flag draped coffin arrives at Canada's largest Air Force base, travels just over 200 km along the highway to the coroner's office. It is along this stretch of highway that Canadians wear their flags and hearts on their sleeves. They do this to let the family of that soldier, along with all of the members of the Armed Forces, know that we recognize the sacrifice and say thank you for it.

Each and every time a soldier returns home in a flag draped coffin . . . Each and every time a family travels with that coffin along the highway . . . they are not alone. They are met by crowds of people standing on the overpasses, holdings flags, saluting and emergency vehicles flashing their lights, showing the family that we understand what huge sacrifice was made for our country. No matter the weather . . . on the coldest of winter days, during the fiercest storms and on days that the heat can take your breath away . . . they are there. Flags swirling, lights flashing, people joined together in one powerful voice saying "Thank you. Thank you for your sacrifice. Thank you for doing a job that I am not able to. Thank you for giving your child to their country. Thank you".

That stretch of highway is now known as the Highway of Heroes. Heroes they are . . . each and everyone of them. Each and every family that has had to make that drive following a flag draped coffin.


I have travelled along the highway just before a soldier has made that journey. My god what a sight it is. Every overpass, I do mean every overpass, has people standing on it showing their support, their appreciation, their respect. It is powerful. So powerful that it made me cry. I cried for the families facing a future without a loved one . . . such a huge loss. I cried for the fact that sacrifices such as this are still necessary. I cried because I was totally overwhelmed at the sight of sea of red and white and the pride that welled up in me.

I travelled that stretch of highway again this weekend and once again a soldier was coming home. My heart goes out to the families that have lost loved ones and that have had to travel this stretch of highway.

Thank you for your sacrifices.

Wednesday, 9 November 2011

The Power of Affection

Lately I have noticed something interesting about my son . . . if he happens to catch Brad and I hugging or kissing his tiny little face just lights up.  His smile is one that takes over his whole face, from ear to ear, and makes high his eyes glow with happiness.

What a powerful realization it is to suddenly recognize just how important the strength of the relationship between Brad and I is to our kidlets.  Certainly, I rationally understand that parents who are in a great place in their relationship provide their kidlets with an oh so important sense of security and I have read about the importance of showing your kids that all is well in their little world . . . but this tangible example of it all but blew my mind.

One morning Brad was helping to get the kids in the car and gave the little man a hug and a kiss once he was in his seat.  Brad was then informed by the little man that he was to do the same thing with Little Miss and well he had no choice but to do what he was told . . . what can I say, the little guy was very forceful with this demand.  I turned around and exclaimed "What about mommy?  Mommy would love and hug and a kiss from daddy too!  Should he give mommy a hug and a kiss as well?"  Well, the happily squealed "YES" showed just how important this was for the little man. 

We have this little thing called a family hug  which is pretty much what it is . . . all four of us hug squeeze each other as hard as possible while making a silly noise.  The kids love it.  Cries of again, again start before the hug is even over!  Kisses are given out freely in our household and the kiddos know that if they are asked "Do you know something?" the answer is going to be "I love you."

Just this morning the little man came into the kitchen and demanded that "dadda ug momma" and so Brad pulled me in for a great big hug.  My god the smile on Buddy's face almost brought me to tears . . . a look of pure happiness because mommy and daddy hugged . . . a look of perfect security in knowing that mommy and daddy truly love each other . . . a look of a child being given exactly what he needs to be happy.

So here is my challenge to you . . . take a moment today to focus on your relationship with you partner . . . not as parents but as a couple . . . let each other know how much you love them and let your kidlets see just how much you love each other. 

Tuesday, 8 November 2011

Team #workingforlessjunkinthetrunk 8/11

Oh man, to be honest with you I am struggling to write this post.  Things could be worse but they could be so much better and I am frustrated with myself.  I workout so hard and then I have a habit of destroying all that work by not paying close enough attention to what I eat.  Why the hell do I do that?!

I will admit that this weekend was definitely an out of the ordinary one for me.  Not only was I away for a martial arts conference but I was away on my own with a bunch of friends and we decided to let loose.  While I certainly didn't go nuts, I have to say that I definitely had several more drinks than I normally would and let's face it, alcohol is pretty much chock full of useless calories.

Previous Week: 173 lbs.

This Week: 173 lbs.

Yeah, that has me a bit down. I keep telling myself that at least it is not up but it is not movement and that is frustrating to me.

So this week means once again trying to refocus on my eating while maintaining and perhaps even trying to increase my exercise. 

Sigh.  Hopefully next week I will actually have something to report.


Monday, 7 November 2011

So I Went Away for the Weekend & All I Got was this Big A** Bruise

I got back from my weekend away yesterday afternoon and all I can say is my weekend ROCKED!

Okay, I have to admit that it didn't start off too hot as I was late picking up one of the girls because I frigging got lost . . . in my own town . . . and thus made everyone late.  However, they all forgave me and we started off on our journey. 

We giggled and joked the whole 4 hour drive.  We took the chance to get to know each other better and to understand some of the challenges that we have faced that drew us to kickboxing in the first place. I have to admit that I was blown away by the stories and how frigging strong these ladies are. 

The original plan was to get to the hotel, drink a beer, meet with the rest of the group to plan the next day and then head to bed early.  Yeah, that so didn't happen.

Nope, let's just say that some of us enjoyed a few more than one beer and we stayed up chatting, giggling and just getting to know the rest of the group better.  We got into the room before 12 but didn't stop giggling until shortly after 12:30. 

The morning arrived and we were, surprisingly, all up and ready to go with time to spare.  It was cold as we walked over to the conference centre, so cold that you could see our breath, and made me realize that I probably should have taken the time to at least put socks on even if I was wearing sandals. Ah there is nothing more Canadian than wearing sandals, along with my touque and mitts, in November!
There were so many people.  Eventually it was announced that there were going to be over 300 participants and another 200 spectators.  There were kids and older folks.  There were insanely fit people and people who looked more like myself.  There were red gis, black gis, blue gis and then there were us kickboxers wearing fitness gear.

The room was divided up into groupings: black belts, advanced adults, novice adults, advanced kids, novice kids and then us kickboxers. 

Our first session of the day was taught by a 5th level Taekwondo Master.  Holy hell he put us through our paces.  We were a bunch of sweaty, sore and tired people . . . and it was only the first session.  He was pretty much a no nonsense kind of a guy and he pushed each of us to give him more.  I strongly suspect that he is pretty used to getting what he wants.

As the day went on I was given opportunities to take part in all sorts of new and exciting experiences.  Another 4th level Taekwondo Master taught us how to break boards using the concepts of combining the mind, body and spirit.  "I can do it.  I will do it."  I broke a board with front kick.  In fact, I broke several boards and I felt powerful.

Just before lunch a group of black belts performed a breathtaking demonstration. I am not even certain I can put into words what I saw but think about some of the coolest things you have ever seen in an action type movie and that is what these people did.  My god, one girl flew through the air, wrapped her legs around her opponents neck and dragged him to the ground.  Amazing!

The last session of the day was not our hardest workout, that was the first one, but I think it might have been the most interesting.  The Master running it owns a dojo that does not permit women.  Normally this would piss me off but these guys are huge and are trained to such a degree that they could easily kill you so I chose to just ignore this whole injustice.

So there he was, a chubby teddy bear of a man, standing in front of us in a blood red gi literally choking his young assistant.  Each time he demonstrated a move that poor guy would keep tapping out and tapping out only to be ignored until the Master was finished showing us just how painful that move could be.

It was both fascinating and a bit scary.  The thing is, is the Master was hilarious and funny, and he just happened to be deadly if need be.  CRAZY! 

So this teddy bear of an assassin taught us how to disarm a person holding a knife on us.  Seriously, he had a whole bunch of hard plastic knives with him for us to use.  As he wandered amongst us kickboxers he stopped beside my partner and I and got chatting with us. He showed my partner how to properly grab a person by the shirt and choke them to the ground . . . oh yes . . . he did so using me as his example.  Needless to say, I dropped to the ground as quickly as possible! 

The day done we headed back to the hotel to enjoy the best shower ever. While I was busy chatting away as we were walking back I managed to walk into an upturned sign and bruise the hell out of my knee.  Apparently I can come away from a day of breaking boards, blocking punches and disarming a person with a knife without being injured but I can't walk and talk at the same time. The bruise is a lovely shade of dark purple, covers my entire knee cap and hurts like an SOB! 

Finally,the entire group of us went out for dinner at a rather tasty Mexican restaurant. I got in a car with the most law abiding driver I have ever met.  There we were uncertain as to where we were going when the car we were following decided to suddenly turn left.  Do you think grandpa would follow?  Nope, he actually reversed and pulled into the turning lane behind another car.

Yeah we lost those we were following.  Luckily I had my phone on me so I could text them and tell them I was being kidnapped by the world's most law abiding driver and I may never see them again.  Apparently the contents of my texts were being read aloud in the car, much to the entertainment of the people whose driver was much less law abiding but was also much more willing to get them to dinner . . . did I mention that I was starving.

Eventually we somehow managed to get ahead of the other two cars and found our way to a parking lot . . . where the world's most law abiding driver actually went the wrong way in the parking garage.  On the horror!!!!

Once again the gals and I enjoyed a few drinks during dinner.  Afterwards, we headed back to the hotel to continue the chatting and laughing, with a few more drinks, until we could no longer keep our eyes open.

I haven't laughed like that in ages.  I was totally inspired by amazing feats of athletiscim that I saw.  I saw kickboxing friends turn into friends.  I had carefree fun.

The group has already decided that we will all be attending the event again next year and I can't wait.

So, what were you up to this weekend?

Friday, 4 November 2011

Weekend Away

So this weekend I will be heading to my nation's capital with a group of my kickboxing buddies.  We head out Friday, spend all day Saturday in sessions working our arses off and head back home on Sunday.  It will be an entirely new experience for me and I am excited, nervous and wondering if I am going to be able to sleep at all . . . I am a crappy sleeper and new beds pretty much mean very little sleep . . . add to that four other people and lord knows if any sleep is going to happen.

Do you realize that this is the first time since Little Miss arrived that I have gone away a weekend by myself?  Certainly Brad and I have gone away, in fact we were gone away for 5 nights in March but this will be the first time that I am leaving all by myself.

Correction.  Now that I think about that, Brad took the kids to visit his parents for two nights in the summer so I guess I have been away from them for two nights without Brad but they left me, I didn't leave them. 

Anyhoo, I totally admit that I am starting to feel the guilt but I have made arrangements to lessen it.  You see, I arranged for my parents to come and help this weekend.  No no, that does not mean that I think Brad can't handle two days and nights alone with the kidlets . . . it just means that with a ratio of 3 adults to 2 kids, I feel way less guilty about going away.  Also, my kiddos LOVE their grandparents and are super excited that they are coming for two whole sleeps!

So with the whole mommy guilt thing lessened as much as possible now I can just fixate on the whole going away with a group of people that I know but I don't really know all that well thing.  What can I say, I am nervous about it.  I am not exactly an outgoing person.  Certainly after knowing people for a while or in a place that I am comfortable, I can be pretty outgoing.  This weekend is going to be totally out of my comfort zone and that has me a wee bit anxious.  Ah man, anxiety is a bitch.

I admit it, I have thoughts like What if I am the fattest one in the room? What if I feel like I am dying within minutes of starting?  What if I fart in my sleep?  What if  . . . what if . . . what if?  So, I am trying to tackle each of these rocking chairs worries as they come up.

If I am the fattest one in the room there is still a good possibility that I am still as fit as most of the people.  Also, I don't know them so I really need to not give a damn about what any of them think.  If I feel like I am dying in the first few minutes I can take a break.  We are going to be going hard all day, breaks are not only allowed they are necessary.  I admit to being someone who needs the "home court advantage" when it comes to all things related to my GI tract.  More often than not I arrive home from a trip constipated and bloated up like a balloon . . . nice eh?!  I know, I know that is probably too much information but I am working through my worries so you are just going to have to work with me!  As the ever so popular kids book says Everybody Poops.

Hopefully I will come home with all sorts of stories to blog about . . . and hopefully I will be able to walk and lift my arms but that remains to be seen!  Wish me luck. 

What about you?  What did you do on your first solo weekend away from the kids?  If you haven't had one yet . . . how come? 


Wednesday, 2 November 2011

When the Games We Play come Back to Slap Us in the A**

So, like most families out there, we have some pretty silly made-up games in our household.  Hum, some examples could be Superheros versus the Tickle-bush or the one where the kids jump on top of who ever happens to be lying on the floor. 

There is this one game in particular that I have played since they were around 1 or so.  Called bum drum it entails me coming up and tapping a musical beat on their ever so adorable little bottoms all the while singing bum drum, bum drum along to what every beat it is. 

A couple of weeks ago the little man joined me in the bathroom while I showered.  This is pretty much an every day occurrence because apparently when we are in the same building together, there can only be a maximum of about 3 feet between us at any given time.  Sigh.

So I carry on about my business stepping out of the shower and begin to dry myself off.  All of a sudden two tiny little hands begin slapping MY buttocks while squeals of joy emanate from around my son's soother.  That cheeky little monkey just played the bum drum on me!

Cut too this past weekend when once again I shared my shower time with my youngest and once again he took the opportunity to joyfully slap me on the ass.  The little guy chased me out of the bathroom and into my bedroom . . . where we were met by his sister who quickly decided that this new game looked like lots of fun and began to play bum drum on my ass along side her brother.

So there I am standing in my bedroom in my birthday suit with both of my kids playing the bum drum on my ass.  What can I say, I started this little game, I guess it is only fair that I am on the receiving end from time to time!  However, I have already began plotting my revenge and I strongly suspect that it will involve naked baby pictures being left out when crushes arrive at the house.

What about you?  Does your family have any really silly games?  Have any of them come back to slap you in the ass . . . you know either figuratively . . . or, as in my case, literally?