Crappy Poo Year!

I will start off with saying simply that I hate New Years Eve.

I despise New Years to the very core of my being.  I'm the type of person who would gratefully take the shift at work on New Years Day.  I stay up until midnight, but I don't get sloppy drunk or stay out until 5 am.  I'm usually at home with my family watching the ball drop in Times Square on tv.

The last time I was out on New Years was in college.  The first year I went out for New Years, I got kicked out of the bar for falling asleep at our table.  The second time I went out for New Years, I got kicked out of the bar for punching my boyfriend's (now my husband) roommate because he stepped on my foot.

My dislike for New Years really has no rooting or reason for being.  As a kid, my sister and I had fun banging pots and pans on our balcony at midnight, screaming "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"  Nothing terrible ever happened to me on New Years.  I just don't like it.

People make too much of a stink about New Years.  It's used as an excuse to get blazing drunk and act like an idiot.  (I'm proof of that those two years I went out in college).  People use it as an excuse to start anew, to make resolutions, out with the old and in with the new.  I don't see why we need one day a year to tell us to do these things.  Why not decide to lose weight on June 16th, or quit smoking on September 8th, or decided to change your life and the direction you're heading in on March 13th?  Why December 31st/January 1st?

Crappy Poo Year everyone!  Hope you all have a lovely evening and a prosperous new year!  BLEH!

Have you seen this hot sauce?

I must have missed the prohibition notice.  A couple of months ago, Chipotle Tabasco sauce disappeared from the shelves in my town.  Not a single grocery store, gas station, department store, outlet, etc has this hot sauce.

It's my favourite hot sauce.  Steak just doesn't taste the same without it.  Bleh.

This is reason #45,659 why I dislike small town life.  Don't get me wrong, most days I love it, but when you have to drive 4 hours away to the next town to see if they have hot sauce, well, that just borders on redonkulous!

I often order things on-line.  I haven't purchased underwear in this Province in about 4 years.  I either order it on-line, or wait until we take a big shopping trip to the next Province over.

Back to the hot sauce.  Seriously, I do not know why my town suddenly does not carry Chipotle Tabasco.  The Tabasco website assures me that this product does indeed still exist.  My town is just Chipotle-less.  BOOO!

Great... now I want steak... and new underwear.

Happy Festivus!

This is me airing my grievance!

Today, while it was puking down snow, E, H and I were walking through the parking lot at Safeway.  We were walking behind a truck that kept stopping for people.  We ended up catching up to him and passing him.  He wanted to turn left, but we were in his way.  His brakes squeaked one last time.  I looked up to see an exasperated look on his face and his hand fly up in annoyance.

So yeah.  I was supposed to wait for him to pass while we got sticky, wet, cold snow dumped on us.

Instead of giving him a dirty look back, I just smiled and politely waved to him my thanks for being so "patient".

So my grievance is: DUDE!  Lighten up!  You're in a crowded parking lot, in a snow storm, 2 days before Christmas... really... this is expected.

Happy Festivus, kids!

Anyone know a good geneticist?

So, maybe I'm not one and done after all!  M finally admitted that he'd fallen in love with the name Oliver.  Before we knew that H was a girl, I spent several weeks trying to convince M that if we had a boy, his name would be Oliver.  M doesn't like the nickname "Ollie", so the whole name didn't sit well with him.  I like it. :)

I said that since he likes the name Oliver now, we should try for another baby so that we can have our Oliver.  M said that since there is no guarantee we'd have a boy, and since he's 2 for 2 in the girl department, we're done.

So, does anyone know a good geneticist?  I WANT MY OLIVER!!!

I Hate You Pampers... and Hilary Duff!

I just did what every mom loves to do at 4am.  Change crib sheets!  It was super fun to do in the dark while H watched.  Now she's wide the eff awake!  She won't go back to sleep.  I've been struggling to get her back to sleep for the last hour.  I'm out in the living room blogging while I see if she'll sort herself out and go back to sleep, because it's evident that I cannot strong-arm her into it.  12 hours protection, my left nut!

It smells like perfume out here.  I'm so wildly allergic.  I've been popping Advil like it's candy to try and keep the inevitable migraine away.  It's "Wrapped With Love" by Hilary Duff.  One of E's lovely friends (I truly mean it when I say "lovely". This girl is so sweet and kind.) gave her a bottle of it for her 13th birthday, yesterday.  It smells super nice when it's in the bottle.  Not so much when eight 13 year old girls douse themselves in it.

So I want to send a big "FUCK YOU VERY MUCH!" out into the universe to Pampers and Hilary Duff!

okthxbai


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Get Out of My Way!

Back story:  Last November, when I was 7 months pregnant, I went to the walk-in clinic with pain in my upper abdomen just below my right boob.  I had been in the office for about an hour when this woman came in.  She clearly had a headache.  In fact, she was there for a migraine.  Big deal.  I remember that they started to fawn over her, because she could barely sit up, and was on the verge of vomiting.  They wanted to transfer her over to the hospital for IV meds, but she made a fuss, because she had to pick up her son from school.  I can't remember what happened to her after that.  I think that I was finally called into see the doctor.  You know, because a healthy woman with a migraine was more important than a pregnant woman with a sharp pain in her abdomen.  That pissed me off.  (Turned out I had a pressure point and the first of five UTIs).


Ever since that day, I see that chick EVERYWHERE!  I'm sure I'd never seen her before that day.  Trust me, she's a pretty memorable person.  I see her more often than I see my in-laws, who live 5 doors down from me.


This chick is always pushing around the baby carriage with her son in it (who's got to be at least 5 years old).  It's one of those carriages that are sporty and low to the ground, with three wheels.  The kid is never strapped in.  She's always buying cigarettes.  She looks pretty "poor", too, so you know... she needs to spend her last $10 on a pack of ciggies, rather than some fruit or whatever for her kid.  She always looks tired.  She's always yelling at her kid, who is always mis-behaving.

She's a single mom.  I did she her with the baby-daddy once at the grocery store.  It looked like they were doing a hand-off.  Some people are the victim of beer goggles.  This woman must have been wearing beer inter-galactic telescopes.  Dude put the fucking in fugly!  Holy hell.  BLEH!


Anyways, I'm sick of seeing this chick.  Every time I see her, my blood boils a little.  She annoys the shit out of me.  Poor woman is trash.  A drain on society.  It's people like her that piss me off when I pay my taxes, and she's the one who benefits from my hard work and toiling.  That last $10 she used to buy her ciggies, I was the one who worked for it and paid my taxes for the sake of her welfare cheque.  I say this, because she obviously does not work.  I live in a small enough town to know where random people work, and I've not seen her anywhere... unless she's a stripper...  I mean, she could be pretty enough if she got some sleep and put on some mascara, and stopped picking at her face.


I'm pissed that she got more attention than me at the walk-in clinic.  I thought pregnant woman and babies jumped to the head of every line, especially the medical lines.


So, when I see her tomorrow, because you know I will, I will grit my teeth again, and swear to myself silently.


**Note: rainbow barfing girl picture is:  "Barf of Happiness" by neofirefly

Shut the Fuck Up! I Have PMS!

SRSLY.  STFU!

I have MAJOR PMS today.  I am just mean today.  MEAN!  Everyone sucks.  Everyone is annoying.  I have no idea why I got out of bed today.  I was still tired.  Like horribly tired.  And I got out of bed.  I felt completely obligated to get out of bed.  M got up with H this morning and let me sleep in.  I swear, I could have slept until 3pm.  But, by the time 3pm rolled around, I'd already gone grocery shopping, washed the bedding, cleaned the house top to bottom, had lunch and surfed aimlessly on-line.  I was begging to be in bed by about 5pm.  But no... I am still up, I've put the baby to bed (which wasn't very pleasant, considering she wouldn't let me put her down), and all I wanted to do was sleep myself.

UGH!  M has been so good today.  He's just let me be a raging bitch, and just went along with my cleaning frenzy.  When I was being a tyrant, he backed me up rather than challenge me.  Perhaps he feared my wrath today.

I think I'm going to go and curl up into bed under my yummy clean blankets and shut my eyes to the world.  Pretend that today didn't happen.

Can Everyone Just Stop Dying Now?!

I mean, com'on.  Seriously.  SRSLY!!!

In September, my friend's husband passed away.  He had cancer for just over a year.  I'm so sad for her and her boys.  They're older (teen and 20-somethings), but he was a new grandfather, and such a sweet, loving and caring man.  He was only in his 40's.  Too young.  M and I used to go on double dates with them.  I haven't seen them in a long while.  I'm ashamed of that.

In October, one of our employees died.  He was old, not married, I don't think he had any kids.  They think he died of a heart attack.  Sadly, they found him on the toilet... even sadder... they found him 3 weeks after he died.  Which was 3 days ago.  How empty can someone's life be, that no one notices for 3 weeks that you've been dead?!  He was a nice guy.  He was so polite and kind.

On Sunday, November 14 one of our long-time employees passed away from lung cancer.  My husband cried.  R, our employee, got sick in spring 2009.  The doctors gave him a year to live.  He lasted 1.5 years.  His wife, S, also works for us.  They have 2 small children (8 & 6 years old).  I am so heartbroken for them.  They have nothing.  They spent all of their savings taking time off work, going down south for treatment, and paying for the daily things in life with no income.  We tried to help as best we could.  We let them use the company gas card for their trips down south (a 13 hour drive!).

Yesterday, we bought S and her kids Christmas presents.  I wrote on the tag "From SANTA".  They're going to need some magic this Christmas.  We also made up a care package for them of shampoo and bubble bath for the kids, coupons and gift certificates to the grocery store for S.  We also got them a gift certificate for a restaurant.  I stood in the card aisle reading the sympathy cards.  With tears in my eyes, I picked a very special card for them.  I know none of it is going to make anything hurt any less, but I'm hoping that at least they can smile for a minute or two, and know that they are not alone.

So, everyone can just stop dying now.  My heart can't handle any more pain for others.

Funniest Facebook Status EVER!

I found this on Lamebook last night.  Pretty sure I peed my pants laughing!

Update on My Kind of Anorexia...

Yeah, I suck.

I don't even have motivation to do that!  I didn't even make it through the first day!  I guess that's a good thing.

I suppose I should re-visit the healthy eating and exercise thing.

A Song that amplifies my life

For You Now

Words and music by Bruno Merz

Come away, come away
leave it all far behind you.
‘Cos it’s not who you are and it’s not what you wanted.
I can see, I can see
the strength there inside you.
Calling you
come away to where you’re bright eyed and hopeful.

As a child is this how, you saw yourself all grown up.
‘Cos I believe, I believe
in your smile I see someone else.
Coming through, coming through
like the sun-rays that kiss your face.
Like they always have done and they always will for you now.

And everything will be alright now, alright.

Boing! Boing! Boing!

Why the fuck are NSF fees so expensive?  When a cheque or a pre-authorized payment bounces, it's a $40.00 charge per bounce.  FORTY DOLLARS!  Seriously, if I didn't have money in my account to cover the cheque or pre-auth, what the eff makes the bank thing I have another bloody $80.00 laying around.  And seriously, does the computer get a pay cheque?  Is there really that much effort on the bank's part to renounce the cheque/pre-auth?  I don't think so.

Since there "needs to be a fee"... I feel $5.00 is a little more reasonable.

Good God!  FORTY DOLLARS!

God, I love tough times.  Kick a sister when she's down!

One and Done?

I grew up in a small family.  I think because of that, I always wanted a bunch of kids.

I met M when I was 20 years old.  He had a daughter (E) who was 20 months old.  I fell in love with her instantly!  At that very moment, I became a mom.  It was the best thing ever.  But, there was that cellular connection missing.  She was indeed my daughter, but she already had a mom.  I kind of always felt like a back-up mom, even after we got custody of her and moved across the country and away from her birth mom.  I needed to have my own baby.

I waffled for about 5 years before I was ready to get pregnant.  It didn't help that my own mom had been asking when I would get pregnant since I was 23.  I always told her that I'd have a baby by the time I was 30.  Sure enough, I got pregnant and had a baby at 30 years old.

Being H's mom has been the most amazing and spiritual thing I have ever done.  I feel complete as a woman now.  I am fulfilled.  When M and I were discussing children, we had decided to only have one, since we already had E, and she was growing up fast (she's 12 years older than H).  There are days though that I want another baby.  And then there are days where I wonder what the hell I am on!  I hated almost every second of being pregnant.  I was so uncomfortable.  But I do miss one thing about being pregnant.  The baby kicks.  A baby kick is such an intimate, wonderful feeling.  (I have phantom kicks still, which doesn't help on the days that I want another baby).

Not long after I had H, M and I decided that I should probably get my tubes tied.  Since I was "One and Done", it made sense.  Well, six months later I got the call from the surgeon's office.  I missed the call, but listened to the message.  I instantly went into panic mode.  Am I truly one and done?  Why wouldn't I want to do the most amazing thing I've ever done more than once?

M is adamant that we are not going to have another child.

I won't be returning the doctor's phone call.  I cannot go through with the tubal.  I'm only 31.

I'm still holding out hope that M will come around (monkeys might fly out of my ass first), or that I might become a statistic where the pill isn't effective one month (cha!  Right!).

Road Rage!

I love messing with people when I drive.  I have a pretty lead-filled foot, so I'm no pansy when it comes to the speed limit.  The sign says 90 km/h, I'm doing about 103 km/h.  I LOOOOVE driving in Alberta, because the speed limit is 110 km/h.  So that means you do 140 km/h!  HA HA HA!

But I digress.

So, when people feel that I'm being "too slow", you know driving 13 km/h over the speed limit, when they go to pass me, I'll speed up even more.  Essentially, I'm making their idiot move more difficult.  And when they start driving like a dink in front of me, you better believe that I'll be passing them.  When you play a game of cat and mouse, you better make sure that the mouse isn't smarter than you... or crazier.

I swear like a sailor anyhow, but the second I get behind the wheel, I could make Sharon Osbourne blush.  I'm surprised that my baby's first word wasn't "jackass" or some variation of "fuck".

I used to drive a Toyota Prius.  That was fun, because people assumed that I drove like a tree-hugger on a Sunday.  Little did they know (as well, little did other Prius drivers know) that Priuses drive like a rally car; you just have to have the balls to drive like a rally car driver.  Every time M or I would be at the Toyota dealership, the salesmen would comment about how they'd see me "bombing around town".  

I love to drive.  I'm an aggressive driver.  It lets me get out many a frustration.  I blast the music too loud, curse and swear at the idiots in the other cars, and I've only ever been in one minor parking lot fender bender... it was more like a bumper kiss.

**Disclaimer** I actually tone it down when the kids are in the car... well, not the swearing.

To Binge & Purge or to Ignore Food

I've always been "chunky".  Since having my baby in Feb 2010, I've become "jolly".  I literally jiggle like a bowl full of jelly.

I am the least un-motivated person with the best of intentions.  I have bought countless workout DVDs.  I even have one that is still in the package.  I do the video once, maybe twice before I forget that I own it.  When working out to the DVD, I make sure that I am alone, and still then, I am utterly embarrassed.  I am wildly uncoordinated.  I literally come out with an injury every time I vacuum.  It's like a full-body contact sport.  If I ever played football, I'm sure that it would be fatal.

I like to walk, but I live in the sticks on a dirt road, with lots of wild life.  I can't help but picture having to out-run a grizzly or a cougar (no joke) and pushing the stroller like a mad-woman.  So, I fear the walk.

So, with exercise pretty much vetoed, all I have left is diet.  I'm a snacker by nature.  I eat small meals, but the snacking gets to me.  I also looooooooove cheese.  It's my kryptonite.  Cheese goes straight to my ass and belly.  I love veggies, but feel hungry 35 seconds after eating them.

So with healthy eating nearly impossible... I've decided that I should take up an eating disorder.  I don't like to throw up, so I guess anorexia is the answer.  I've always wished I had an eating disorder, but never had the motivation to stick to it.  I've tried both as a teenager.  When I was in college, I simply could not afford to eat, so I ate once a day.  I had the most rockingest body ever!  I want that back.

I think I'll take up mild anorexia.  My morning Coca-cola, since I don't drink coffee.  Then water until supper time, where I can eat whatever.

It's not healthy, but I don't care.  I don't have the time, the money or the patience to do this the healthy way.  I have a 40lbs goal.  I will keep a journal.  Weigh myself every morning.  When the 40lbs goal is reached, I will return to normal, without the snacking.

Here's to ignoring food... mostly.

Darkness Falls

I think I've been depressed all my life.

I remember being 12 years old and not wanting to play with my friends.  I enjoyed my solitude more.  Having fun with my friends just didn't seem like something that I deserved.  I preferred to stay in my room and daydream of being the girlfriend of a famous singer or actor.  Yeah, Leo.  Yep Nick Carter.  Yes, please Joey McIntyre.

I'd write poetry about love and desire.  Things that I longed for.  I wrote stories about tragedy and addiction, things that were truly beyond me.  I felt ignored in real life, so I made up these fantasies.  I lived a whole other life inside my head.  And I was never me.  I was always who I wanted to be.  Talented. Beautiful.  Loved.  Cultured.  Outgoing.  Athletic.  Fabulous.  I could never accept who I was, and the reality that I lived in.

I think that's why I struggle so much out here.  I'm not any of those made up things.  I'm sad.  Inadequate.  Indecisive.  I swear too much.  I'm angry.  Negative.  Sullen.  Unmotivated.  Burdened.

I'm always on.  I don't know what it's like to be off.  I'm always worrying about bills, do we have enough milk, is the baby fed and dry, what are we going to have for supper, do we have the ingredients, did my husband remember his cell phone, did someone drag the garbage to the curb, is the timer on the PVR for our favourite show, did we lock the truck, I have to do invoicing, remittance, payroll, have we killed all the fruit flies, did E remember to eat breakfast and take a lunch to school (she insisted on making her own lunch this year), and somewhere in all of that I have to have a shower.  I feel like I'm cheating if I shower every day now.  I'm lucky if I get a shower in every other day.  I barely remember to brush my teeth anymore.  I'm too worried about other things.

We're drowning in a mountain of debt.  Business isn't doing too terribly well, and the clients we do have take too long to pay.  This keeps me up most nights and shoves me into darkness most days.  Money.  Debt.

This is not who I wanted to be.  I had dreams.

Don't get me wrong, I am VERY thankful for my husband, and my two beautiful girls.  But I had a very different picture in my head.  A bright picture of happiness, success, great health, puppies and rainbows.

I don't know how to pull back the curtains in this dark room.

Dear Me

Sometimes I email myself.

When I'm awake in the middle of the night, feeding my baby, I'll think of things or come across things while surfing the net on my iPhone.  I'll email myself the link to a website, a thought, a funny quote I came across, or a thought I need to remember later.

When I'm feeling particularly blue, I'll add something to the end... a positive message to myself.  An affirmation.

"You're awesome"

"You're an amazing mom"

"It'll be okay"

"Tomorrow is a new day"

"I love you"

I have a loving husband.  Two beautiful girls.  A fantastic family.  A wonderful in-law family.  But I feel so alone.  I feel like no one notices.  No one sees me.  No one cares.  No one listens.

I write these private messages to myself, so that at least I know that I am listening to myself.  I hear me.  I resonate with me.  I love me.  I'm broken, but I love every shard of me.

I love every shard of me.