What I Should Have Said Was...

November BloggyMoms Challenge! Here I go...

It is hard to decide how deep and profound I should go with this post. I tend to try to keep things light, but I must be honest - there were two things that popped into my mind right off the bat.

Part I: What I Should Have Said Was...

Knowing what I know now, in my infinite wisdom at 30 years old, I look back to a cold and blustery day in 1988. I was 8 years old and in grade 2. My family had just moved to the big smoke from a small town. Things were a bit haywire in my world. I had gained a ton of weight at a young age and was a chubster. There was a boy that teased me relentlessly. Bullied me. Very mean and very cruel. There was one day in particular that I remember. He had backed me into the corner at recess time and was whispering at me -

"You are nothing but a fatty"- "No one likes you because you're so fat"
Blah blah blah.

I was absolutely frozen.
And then it stopped and he left me alone.
Never bugged me again. Almost like it scared him how cruel he had been.

What I Should Have Said Was...something.
Anything.
Not anything mean or vindictive - just something.
I should have stood up for myself.
I believe that on that day my intense fear of confrontation was born. I wish I had loved myself enough at the tender age of 8 to know that this boy probably heard his dad say something along the same lines, or had a horrible home life, or was just a jerk and it had nothing to do with me. It wasn't my fault.
On a weekly basis, or when ever the moment is right, I take the opportunity to talk to my kids about how important it is to love themselves unconditionally. No one can take that from them. They are loved and they are loving. Period.

Part II: What I Should Have Said...

This one is quite recent and quite ridiculous. But whatever. It pissed me off something fierce! Long story short, there is a couple that totally screwed over my family financially. Didn't pay a bill that they were supposed to pay. Left us on the hook. It started a chain reaction of other crap that will take years for us to recover from. Devastated us financially.
But it is just money. We are happy. We are healthy. My family rocks and we are working through it.
So...this couple are horrid human beings. They got to where they are in life by cheating and lying - we have all met people like this and they just plain suck.
We were at son's hockey game and low and behold, they are there because their son is playing on opposing team.
They had the audacity to say hello to us!
(I thought my husband was going to have a coronary!)
We did not acknowledge them. Did not even look at them. It was like they didn't exist.
It felt good and we had a laugh about it after. Because we are NOT horrid people and we rock. They suck.

What I Should Have Said Was...

"Oh hey! How are you? Swindled anyone else lately? No? Oh yeah, that's right, your husband is too busy hanging out at the local bar groping all the single women. Oh you didn't know your husband was a cheating SOB? A dirty, disgusting man? Well...he is." (which is all totally true! He's a pig.)
Wink - Smile -Walk away.


S0 not worth it though. I am better than that.

FOOTNOTE:
My sons kicked their son's ass in hockey. So that was awesome.

The Wonderful Word of Meh

Meh. My new favorite word. It seems to fit so many situations so perfectly.

“How’s it going today?”
“Meh.”
“Gotcha!”

Or –

“Great hockey game last night!”
“Meh.”
“Yeah, it was a bit slow.”

Or even –

“Mommy! I’m hungry!”
“Meh.”
Oh wait...what? I'd never say that.

All the same…you get the point.

My love for the word Meh encouraged me to do a bit of research about it, because I have so much free time on my hands. (Work can wait! Laundry can wait! Supper can wait! Housework can wait!)
And guess what, there is a TON of stuff about the mighty Meh when it is googled.

From Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Meh

Meh – is an intergection, often used as an expression of apathy, indifference, or boredom. However, it can also be used to indicate agreement or disagreement and in rare cases an ambiguous unit of measure. It can also be an adjective, meaning mediocre or boring.

How great is that!? An ambiguos unit of measure...I don't even know what that means!

But wait! It gets better...

As I read on about my beloved word, I discovered that the source of its rising popularity seemed to come from The Simpsons in 1994. THE SIMPSONS! Of course it did.
(It was also used in a forum about Melrose Place in 1992 - makes sense. Meh.)

Then the Edmonton Sun actually used it in publication in 2003 when discussing a Survivor vote. How fitting...

But wait! There is more...

Controversy arose in November 2008 when the word was added to the Collins English Dictionary. People didn't seem to like the fact that a neologism (look it up - pretty cool) wormed it's way into the publication.

But wait! It gets even better...

Harper Collins' included a real example of the marvelous word in its definition. Hold onto your pants boys and girls, this is hilarious -

Meh - as in 'the Canadian election was so meh'

(for real! check out the story - http://www.canada.com/topics/news/story.html?id=f216bac2-8f0b-4202-a1ae-8f7ed4de2bd7

I'm in love.
Meh.
Maybe I'm just bored.

Mommy Tip Alert! Mommy Tip Alert!

If you haven’t noticed already, my blog is not a typical “Mommy-Blog”. Meaning, I don’t really give any tips or helpful insights into the wacky world of motherhood, to help other Mommy-types. I mostly write about me. Yeah, I'm a mommy. But I'm me first. It’s not that I don’t care about all the other mommy-oids out there or their plight to survive mommy hood, I just don’t want to write about it.

Until now…

I’ll set the scene for you.

3:30 am. Snowy night outside. (first snowfall of 2010)
Baby starts crying.
Mommy starts to whine in protest, thinking, “Shit! I don’t want to get up.”
But because she is, of course, an incredible mommy, she lumbers into baby room.
Baby is wet. “Damn.”
Mommy changes baby to discover baby has a horrible diaper rash – his first diaper rash of his 11, almost 12 months of life.

Okay, the scene is set. Here is my MOMMY TIP –

CORNSTARCH! CORNSTARCH! CORNSTARCH!
I put it straight from the box onto the baby tuchas. Next diaper change – VOILA! No diaper rash.

As I was changing baby diaper last night I realized that I needed to blog my insight. Because I AM a Mommy-Blogger.

So there it is. A Mommy Tip. You’re welcome.

New Title to Add to My Resume...

I have just embarked on a new venture/adventure in my life. I have just entered the Realm of Hockey Mom.

It's true. And everything I have heard about being a hockey mom, or hockey moms in general, is true too.

From the famous Sarah Palin quote -

"What's the difference between a pit bull and a hockey mom? Pit bulls don't wear lipstick." (BaDum-Ching!) -

to the almost animal instinct of cheering certain mantras while your child is on the ice -

"Get in there buddy! Go hard! Keep 2 hands on your stick! Skate-Skate-Skate!" -

being a hockey mom is a colossal life adjustment.

I'm actually kind of confused about the whole thing. It is all encompassing in our lives now. There are 2 one-hour practices a week, at least one game every weekend (2 games every weekend for the month of November) and extra requirements expected of me. (mandatory hockey meetings - volunteer hours or I get charged a hefty fee - selling 50/50 tickets during home games - sitting in the time box...) Plus I have 2 other children that are being forced to spend minimum of 5 hours each week at the arena.

Then at the hockey game this morning something happened.

He scored his first goal.

HE SCORED A FREAKIN' GOAL!
ON A BREAKAWAY!

MY SON SCORED A GOAL!

I was so proud I could have burst - I could have actually burst into a million pieces.

Then it all made sense. The countless hours I will spend in a cold arena are nothing compared to the look on my child's face when he scores a goal for his team.

So...I would like to finish by saying...

My name is Kaley.
I am a hockey mom.
And I am DAMN proud of it!

Here I am

So...it has been awhile since I have posted. I know. I KNOW!

I feel the need to insert standard comment here...

"Life has been so crazy!"
or this one
"I have just been so busy!"
or maybe even this one
"Where has the time gone?"

Although all three could be used, I don't want to use an excuse. There is no need for an excuse. Bottom line is I haven't blogged lately because I haven't wanted to. So there. I am totally in control.

Things have just been so busy and with the kids in school again and hockey and dancing and life has been so crazy and Hudson is crawling now and the house renovations still aren't done and I am stressed cause I have a little person moving around and oh ya did I mention I have started a new business and I do it from home and it requires the making of extremely high calorie content items and my thighs and ass are growing exponentially with the thriving business and my husband works away months at a time except for now he hasn't worked in 5 weeks and Christmas is coming and where has the time gone and it's getting cold out and my car just started making weird noises....

Whew! Glad I got that out of my system.

Regardless...I'm back...

Moments

There are moments in life where the world seems to stop spinning on its axis - when everything slows down and sometimes actually stops - just stops. The moments that sound is amplified - or completely dissipated - where sight is heightened - or turns to black - it all means the same thing. A captivating moment. A moment that changes the course of the path of life. I have had a few of these wonderfully glorious and horrific moments so far in my life.

The cry of my first born child -then second - then third.

The moment I was told my 20 week old fetus was no longer alive.

The moment my husband simply wrapped his arms around me and I felt nonjudgmental, accepting and completely open hearted love for the first time.

There are not many moments in life - but when the moments happen - they are huge. And they always remembered vividly.

For the first time in my life I went looking for a moment tonight. As I was sitting in my dining room, doing some work in a quiet house, I felt a pull - a twinge almost. I started looking for a song that I knew I needed to listen to. I knew for the first time I needed a moment. I needed everything to stop. I needed to listen - I needed to see.

I downloaded Sanvean by Lisa Gerrard. An incredibly powerful, beautiful and emotional piece of music.

And I cried...and I cried...and I cried.

And acknowledged that my mommy is sick. And I acknowledged that my mommy has breast cancer. And acknowledged that I am sad. And I acknowledged that I am scared.

And now my life path has been changed. And I will always remember the moment.

Teeth, Magic and Money

Magic, as in magical experiences, not David Copperfield. More specifically, the magic I just experienced.

My oldest son just lost one of his front teeth, leaving a ginormous hole in his mouth. Super cute. Super boy-like. Super looks-like-a-mini-NHL-er.
However, he lost the tooth yesterday quite late at night. And...the tooth fairy didn't have any money on her person. (ahem, bad tooth fairy! You should always have a tooth reserve available in times of emergency! I know, I know. Dropped the ball on that one...)
Anyways, he was all bummed out that the tooth fairy didn't visit him. As it happened he had slept with me the night the tooth came out - so...BAM! - great excuse!

"Oh honey, don't worry. She will come tonight for sure."
(because she went to the ATM and got a timmies to break a $20)

"How do you know? You don't know! You don't know FOR SURE!" (6 year old boy voice reaching hysterics)

"She didn't come last night because you were sleeping with me and the tooth fairy never comes if a parent is around. She would have totally woke me up and her cover would have been blown. Trust me, I know."

At this point I got a kind of sideways glance with a furrowed brow - the look that says - "Whatever!" without actually saying it.

So what is with the magic? What is so magical?

I realised as I snuck into his room tonight - (and discovered his damn tooth was firmly planted underneath his pillow and I had to actually lift his head up to get it and he woke up for a second and I had to murmur some excuse about checking his sheets for something...but I digress...)

I realised as I was crouched down at the foot of his bed tonight, fishing out a tooth from his tooth tin in his tooth pillow and replacing the tooth with a fiver and a loonie ($6.00 for a tooth?!?! Seriously?! Yes folks...$6.00 for one tooth. Three kids + 20 teeth each = a helluva lot of money! But I digress...)

I realised that as I was doing my tooth fairy duties, the whole notion of the tooth fairy is such a wonderfully magical thing for children. As I replaced the tooth tin, in the tooth pillow, loaded with loot, I stood and gazed at my little man. His mouth was slightly open showing the window that now takes center stage on his head, and he was smiling. He was smiling while he slept. That in itself is magic. The whole tooth fairy idea made me smile because I know it makes him smile.

I cannot wait until I hear his footsteps running down the hallway tomorrow morning, running to my door and he bursts through yelling -

"I made a killing mom!"

But I digress...

And then they grow up...

It's hard to believe that my baby, my first born, thinks I am a super-uncool-lame-ass mom. That my once 'little man', who would call me mommy and would come running into my arms for me to kiss his owies, because I was the only one who could make it all okay, now calls me a single syllable, mom.
He shrugs me off when he is hurt now.
Heaven forbid his MOM embarrass him by coddling and comforting his owie. That my sweet, doe-eyed boy has turned into a rugged, rough and tumble boy. In every sense of the word and meaning.
A boy.
I guess I never really grasped the full meaning of what it would be like to be a mom of a boy - a mom of a little soldier, powering through life. But the day has arrived. I have watched him run off into the woods with other little soldiers - toy guns in their back pockets and an arsenal of rocks in their jackets.
I had the urge to run after him and spy from behind a tree - just to make sure he was okay. Instead I stood and smiled on after him. The first of many times watching from the sidelines-
Watching him ride his bike off by himself-
Watching him walk into a movie theater on his first date-
Watching him drive away in his car-
Watching him graduate from high school and then go off to college-
Watching him walk down the aisle with his bride-
Watching him hold his first born baby...
Whoa.

WTF! LOL! OMG!

My name is Kaley and I have a problem. I own a Blackberry. My thumbs are now double-jointed as a result. I have a hard time using proper English language skills because...

OMG! There is nvr enuf space 4 me 2 write a msg. More l8r. lol

Yeah.

I am honestly starting to get a bit worried about the possibility of future intelligent life on earth. I am getting worried about my children's generation not understanding the beauty and grace of literature, of books, of pen and paper. One day is my youngest child going to look up at me with quizzical eyes and say,

"Mommy, what is a letter?"

Are there going to be bookstores anymore? Is stationary going to exist? Is technology taking over too fast? Do the pro's really outweigh the con's, or is it the other way around?

I mean, I remember when I was a kid (and walked to school, with no shoes, in the snow, uphill both ways. Oops. I digress...)

When I was a kid, all we did on the computer in school were math drills. Or phonics drills. Our computers were huge and had green and black screens. That's it. Green. Black. No graphics or fancy colours. Oh wait - there were graphics! Sometimes a little man with a big nose and big feet would pop up and turn in a circle when you got a perfect score in the Math Olympics. And the disks were called floppy disks because that is exactly what they did. They were so big they actually flopped around.

Now, kids have cell phones and instant messaging and Twitter. And when I say kids, I don't mean teenagers. I mean K-I-D-S.
5 years old.
6 years old.
With cell phones.

Technology aside, how can we, as a society - as a global community, ensure that our children, the ones who will be running this joint when we are on our last legs, actually have coping skills that do not include lazily abbreviated thoughts and ideas. I mean, I do not want my daughter to get a marriage proposal via a text message. I want my children to understand what it means to have human interaction on a personal level. To actually know how to make eye contact when speaking to someone. To convey their feelings and emotions through a pen - onto paper. Not using their double-jointed thumbs.

Which reminds me, the ball thingy on my blackberry is broken. WTF! So annoying. How am I going to update my Facebook status and Tweet about my new blog post. OMG!

lol...

My Scent

Something strange happened at my yoga class tonight. Not yoga-related strange (isn't it all a bit strange? Really!) but this "thing" set into motion a thought process within myself. It made me wonder about my own scent. We all have a personal scent to us - a smell that is "us". Not matter where we are or what we do, this scent follows us. This scent in essence becomes us.

For example, my sister-in-law has a fabulous scent to her. Somehow she always smells of lavender. One day I asked her about it, as everything she touches smells of lavender. Seriously. I receive a letter or package from her and as I soon as I open it - WHAM! - the lavender erupts in my nostrils. She claims it is the detergent she uses. But I bought the same damn detergent and I do NOT smell of lavender! My grandmother had a scent to her as well. She smelled of Oil of Olay and still to this day I cannot smell the cream without thinking of her. It's nice to have memories attached to scent.

However, what if the scent is not apparent? What if I do not know what my scent is? Or worse...what if my scent...STINKS!?!? What if I smell of dirt or mildew or cat litter or dust bunnies? (yes, they DO have a scent!) Would anyone tell me? My husband, Lee, says he would. But would he really? REALLY? Would he willingly throw himself under the proverbial bus - because that's what the fallout would be! I would throw him under the bus myself if he told me my scent was - STANK!


I want a good scent dammit! I have tried to make it happen but it is not working. I have tried the lavender detergent - I have tried the tropical body spray - I have tried the cherry body wash - I have tried the mango lotion.

None of it sticks!

And...I am darn determined for my scent to NOT be 5 hour old spit up or PB & bloody J sandwich "scent" (but I fear that I may be stuck with it...)

So...I am off with the perpetual spitter-upper and we are going on a scent search tomorrow. Something that screams earth-mother-meets-chic-&-cool-in-a-downtown-uptown-all-natural-superstar-gorgeous-girl sort of way. I'll let you know how it goes. Hopefully I don't have to resort to my daughters Strawberry Shortcake spritz....

Strawberry...hmm.

That might work.....

"The Husband"

"So, have you updated your blog lately?" asks the husband.

"Nope, haven't really been feeling particularily inspired lately." answers the wife to her husband.

"Hm." says the husband in his suggestive, I-am-trying-to-ask-or-tell-you-something, tone.

"Why?" asks the wife, giving in to the husbands little tone-suggestion game.

"Just wondering." says the husband with a dramatic pause. Then exclaims, "You never write about me in your blog! I mean, it's suppose to be about your life, right? Don't you think you should mention me? Aren't I a part of your life? Aren't I?!?!?!" says the husband, answering his question for himself and obviously feeling a little bit sorry for himself.

At this point, the wife pauses before answering the question that has already been answered.

"My blog is about me and my life. You're right. And no, I haven't written about you much. I refer to you from time to time, but have never really talked about you. You're a part of my life but you are not ME. The blog is about ME. My thoughts, my feelings, my experiences." said the wife in a, duh!-you-dum-ass tone.

The husband listened to the wife and said nothing. The silence was deafening.

So.....

My husband is Lee.
Lee is a plumber/gasfitter/steamfitter.
Lee is awesome.
Lee is funny.
Lee is perfect.
Lee is an amazing father to our children.
Lee has a great sense of humour.
Lee is handsome.
Lee is adventurous.
Lee likes to party, in the father-of-three sort of way.
Lee is loved very much.
Lee is part of my life, and I am really grateful for him.

You hear that Lee? Let's just see how much you really do read my blog - MY blog - about ME.

Just saying.

It has been awhile since I have been able to blog. Basically it's because I totally bailed on my transformation and am feeling shame. Big fat shame . I will not dwell on it though because I have reflected on it and these are my conclusions:



I bit off more than I could chew.

I did too much too fast.

I just had a baby.

I was too tired.

I was too busy.



Oh, wait. Those are not reflective and thoughtful conclusions - those are excuses. BIG FAT EXCUSES!



I am a quitter, plain and simple. I take full responsibility. I failed at my challenge and I have no one to blame but myself. Boo hoo. Poor me. Big fat quitter. Big fat excuse maker.



But seriously people, how common is this scenario? I believe we have ALL done something such as this at least one (or fourteen) times in our lives. You see, I had great ambition for my goal. I did all the right things. I committed. I was dedicated. I was pumped up! Then a funny thing happened around week three. My life took over and routine prevailed. I did not succesfully integrate a new routine. Instead I reverted back to what was tried, tested and true for me. My Life.

Go figure!

So, is all this talk (typing) just more excuses? Am I giving myself the easy way out by saying that the mere fact of excuse making, excuses the excuses? Ponder that because I still haven't wrapped my head around it. All I know to be true, to be fact, is that I quit and now I feel bad.

Plain and simple.

Me.

Quitter.

Damn.

Books Are Like Lovers...I think

Let me start by saying that I married young. I was 20 when I met my husband, engaged at 21, married at 23 and mother at 24. So, I don't have a whole lotta experience with the whole "lover" aspect of things. But I know what I know...

Therefore - Books Are Like Lovers. There are great books and there are down-right super lame, bad books. The great books are seductive, they take control of your life - much like a good lover. They encompass the whole of your days, it is all you can think about, it is all you can do. Same as such with a lover, seducing your every thought and pulling your attention away from important life matters. You can stay in bed all day with a good book and a good lover. You can go for days without eating with a good book and the same goes for a good lover. The thought of the book makes you smile, so does a good lover.

A bad book is ignored and discarded. So is a shitty lover. Enough said.

Here are some books I would consider leaving my husband for:

• The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
• Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
• The Memory Keeper's Daughter by Kim Edwards
• She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb
• The Girls Guide to Hunting and Fishing by Melissa Bank (not what it sounds like - hubby bought it as a joke and it is fabulous! Go figure!)
• Brida by Paulo Coelho
• The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
• The Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coelho
• Fall On Your Knees by Ann-Marie MacDonald

Note to husband: Lee, you know I am kidding. Well, kind of.

Week Two of %^#*ing Transformation

Hmmmm. Much like Week One. And I am kind of bummed. All I can say is -

Weekends are the enemy! Damn you weekends, with your beer and nachos and hockey and wine and brie cheese and calories hiding around every corner. DAMN YOU!

So yeah. The weekend was my downfall. The husband was home and we had a great weekend. But it was full of unhealthy indulgences. I am trying not to feel too guilty, but seriously! I am starting to realize just how much eating is attached to - everything!

We went to a friends house on Friday evening - BAM! Wine was poured down my throat by the glass full! (not really, I had something to do with it...)

We had friends over to watch Hockey Night in Canada - BAM! Nachos and beer everywhere I turned, hunting me down like a coyote on a calf! (just ask me how I know that - I dare you!)

So what is a girl, who is trying to transform her body, to do? I guess the first step would be to grow a set and really commit - not just 5 days a week.

That said, today is a new day that started with oatmeal, black coffee (blech!) and a desire to sweat. And that is exactly what I am going to do. Wish me luck!

**Oh yeah, my jeans are fitting a little bit different. Maybe this is starting to work...**

Week One

Week One of my Transformation Challenge is complete. How was my week?

Well…it’s over.

I did all of my workouts and ate relatively well but did have some slip-ups. I am struggling with a bit of a sugar-carb addiction apparently and am finding it a bit difficult to JUST SAY NO! (sorry Nancy!)

So today I am cleaning out my house of all junky stuff. I thought I did this already, however last night I remembered that I had a bag of chocolate chips in my baking cupboard. Seriously. I ate them. Seriously. All of them. SERIOUSLY!

Regardless, I am a lot more aware of what I need to do this week. I am still gung-ho, so that’s a good sign. One goal that has changed is my final result. I am not expecting to be at goal weight in 12 weeks. I want this lifestyle change to stick so therefore I am not treating this as a quick fix. I am going to give myself the time I need to transform.

I am going to be patient.

I am going to work hard.

Transformation Time

Alrighty. It is time to take some control over this person that is me. 3 kids in 6 years has taken a toll on my old bod. (I can say that because I turned 30 yesterday! Huh?!) I am transforming myself and I am going to do it RIGHT NOW! Here is the scoop ~

I have entered a 12 week body transformation challenge. It is through a website called "Yummy Mummy" and it is awesome! (check it out all you mamas - great website, amazing founder. Very wonderful program! I have added it to my links...)

I will track my progress on this blog once a week, probably Sunday evenings. I have decided to not share my stats until after my transformation is complete. I am totally dedicated to this process, and I AM PUMPED!

My intentions are to eat clean, follow the interval and strength exercises and be honest and compassionate with myself. The era of Thirty Year Old Kaley is here and it is going to be amazing!