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After I posted last week, I instituted a new approach to help Kamden with his anxiety. I completely stole it from someone I follow on Instagram.  She's kind of famous and kind of like someone popular in high school (except that she seems like a very nice person) that I admire from afar. 

Anyway, it appears that they use a reward system to help fight anxiety. It got me to thinking. I was taking the approach that this was out of Kamden's control. What if we turned this around and taught him that he has some control over this?

This was after we made a decision, a hard one, to have him miss his best buddy's birthday party because it involved seeing the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. He knew it would haunt him at bedtime, the bad guys, the fighting, etc. It wasn't an easy decision but we thought if we could avoid adding to his anxiety, it was the right decision.

So what did he worry about that night instead? That his friend would be upset that he didn't come to the party. *facepalm*

(Exhibit A: found on my phone - goofball)

I may or many not have lost my s--t at that point. My conclusion was that he was going to worry no matter what. I mean, sometimes he is just anxious about being anxious, for goodness sake.  

That's it, we have to take the power away from the anxiety. He had to take control.  So what better way to have a kid take control than by providing a reward? We must use a language that speaks to them. That in itself is a sad state of affairs but that's another post. I may write it too....helicopter parenting is failing us. I work with the adults it creates. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

 

We are now over two weeks into the reward.  It's $5 a night. His anxiety always hits at bedtime complete with dizziness and a look on his face, not unlike the one below, no wait that his deadpan look, not quite the same.

He gets $5 for every night he can fight the anxiety and go to sleep without excessive worry.  The "worry" involves coming into our room after we have all gone to bed upset about the anxiety du jour - examples include but are not limited to:  he has a major health problem (the same night he ran for two hours straight at football practice....um no, you are fine), something will happen to Mom and Dad (we are good dude, no worries), scary noises in his room (house shifting, car doors outside etc), school (pick random worry and insert here) etc.... lather, rinse, repeat.

(we ran a 5 km race a bit back, at least we ran some of it)

It was something new every night. Oh yeah, then there was my epic parenting fail.  EPIC.  It's possible this entire anxiety thing could be blamed on me.

I shouldn't even write about it here. Maybe. Oh what the hell. It's sort of funny. In a I suck as a mom kind of way.

This summer, we lost Jay's dad.  It was sudden and it hit Kamden pretty hard. He hasn't dealt with death yet in his young life except when my cat died and my parents dog which I think we can all agree is not quite the same thing.

One day, he came down while I was working to relay something that happened that he couldn't figure out. He was putting the stuffed animals he sleeps with back into his bed before he made it one morning. He grabbed one, leaving the other at the end of the bed. When he turned back around to grab the last one, it was gone.

He found it in his hamper.

I had no explanation and so without thinking (me? speak without thinking?  So out of character for me) I said oh maybe Granddaddy was messing with you.

I mean, I watch Long Island Medium, it could totally happen, right? And it would so be something in character for Jay's dad. One of his favourite words was buffoonery after all. 

(Exhibit B - buffoonery defined)

So yeah. Not a good thing to tell a 10 year old boy, in case you were wondering. About a month later, he came to in tears me as I was falling asleep saying maybe it's Granddaddy making all the scary noises he hears when he's trying to fall asleep. That was my first clue about the epic parenting fail. Yes, I am slow on the uptake.

After much reassurance and the use of the word buffoonery several times, I convinced him that his granddaddy would NEVER try to scare him. EVER.

Mess with him to make him laugh, absolutely, but the noises are just the house, or possibly his overactive imagination or its paranormal activity that I am too old to hear or something.... Oops. I went too far again, didn't I?  Kidding, I didn't say the part about the paranormal activity.  This time.

The are several morals points  here:

- I didn't cause the anxiety with my fail (it was already gaining its own momentum) but I did exasperate it exponentially
- he does have control or at least some control because we are well over two weeks without a late night of excessive worry. He is always a bit apprehensive at bedtime but we each have to think of at least two good things that make us happy before I hug him goodnight. That gives him something else to focus on. Take that,  "worry".
- he takes some awesome pictures that make me smile daily. See Exhibit A through C:

(Exhibit C)

I might be married to a human giraffe.

Now that's something to worry about.

(I take his anxiety very seriously. I may have made up this system of dealing with it but it seems to be working for now. I am also saving for future therapy costs as Plan B.)

Formal Gratitude

I just did a really quick trip to Vancouver for a work meeting and retirement dinner. I was dreading going because this past year, I have travelled more than I ever have in my entire life. And me, I am a homebody with a capital H. I was looking forward to seeing everyone because that's a no brainer but the plane rides and airport time I could do without.

Part of the day was spent in a workshop talking about uncertainty. There is lots of this right now as our profession goes through a huge change. It's one I support but it will likely mean changes for me professionally. I don't consciously feel like I am stressing about this but I have suffered more headaches the last 6 months than ever so perhaps I am subconsciously.

Anyway, that's not what this about. What I was reminded of during the workshop is that we can't focus on what we don't know but what we do. And when we choose to focus on something, it should be the positive. At one point, the facilitator asked if we practiced gratitude journaling. I didn't raise my hand but then later I realized that I do. I just don't write it down. I think of things all the time and I often post them on FB (which I have been avoiding lately but that's a whole other story).

Instead, I am going to dust this here space off and write down things I am grateful for on a weekly more frequent basis.

Here goes nothing.  Or something.  The verdict is still out.

1. Cherry blossoms. Where have you been all my life? Very glad they were still blooming when I got off the train yesterday. A photos was taken and sent to a good friend because this stuff has to be shared with those we love.  Also? The sun was shining and it was gorgeous out.
 

 

2.  The people I work with. I don't talk about my job here ever (because obviously!)  but I will make an exception here. I work with a group of people who believe in team work and believe in a positive, supportive work environment. I have experienced the opposite of that and I appreciate the current situation so much more as a result. 

 

3.  My job.  I don't think this is news. I work from home doing something I love.  I am here for my kids.  Enough said. The uncertainty, well, it will sort itself out. I have faith. (Headaches, you hear me?! Bugger off, things are fine.)

 

3.  Having a good hard laugh with a friend.  The kind that makes stop breathing and tears come to your eyes.  All he said was, "Do you  mind if I touch that?"  I don't know why we both laughed till we cried but we did.  That which he wanted to touch was a cast iron tea pot my tea came in at dinner last night.  I think perhaps both our minds hit the gutter there but sometimes, you gotta go there. Equally amusing where the befuddled looks of our colleagues as they somehow didn't find it as funny. 

 

4.  Friends that get you. That understand you when you are venting about things that might be slightly petty.  They listen, support and provide prospective.  

 

5. This quote:

 

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

 

Theodore Roosevelt

 

 It really resonated with me. I will stop worrying about the judgement of others.  The reality is that I am flawed and human and imperfect and people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.  Myself included. 

 

Next up, my fortieth birthday.  Can't. hardly. wait.

 

 



In My Head....

I am uneasy and feeling blah for a couple of weeks.   Hormones are likely to blame. I also had a lovely tension headache for about 3 days off and on last week.  Nothing makes you more full of life and happy than a tension headache.

I chose to look on the bright side posting this to FB:

Looking on the bright side is hard when you are on day 3 of a tension headache. But I am. Three things I am thankful for: the wonderful friend who made a massage work for me in her busy schedule (love visiting with you as much as the massage), the GNO with another friend that was FUN and took away the headache temporarily (also the wine, good food and laughs) and the amazing friends my boys have. We are blessed in so many ways. Go ahead and hurt head, you cannot break me.

After some pondering, because that's what I do, I have come to conclude that I need to do some re-evaluating of my goals and aspirations related to fitness but more importantly body image.

I have been inundated with pictures of perfect bodies in barely there bikinis of late and regardless of my own self body image, good or bad, this has been affecting me more than I thought.

I know people who post those pictures do so because they are really proud of what they have achieved, and rightly so, and also because they might inspire others.

BUT.

When that is what I see, day in and day out and then I look at myself in the mirror, there are two possible outcomes (okay maybe more but I go back and forth between these particular two), I get inspired and work hard to be like them (guess what, I never get there, unattainable much?!).  Or I think for the love of Pete, I look like crap compared to them. I am worthless and hopeless and  I will now eat a tub of ice cream (and you know how bad it is when I will knowingly eat dairy!).

Let me explain.

You all know me and what I look like.

I am a healthy weight and body fat percentage. I am overall a healthy person. I rarely get sick, I get enough sleep and I eat pretty reasonably.


I do not wear bikinis.  I have cellulite. My belly button has been influenced largely (HA!) by the miracle of birthing my two of my three favourite boys in the entire universe.

I have body fat. And here is where I am going to lay it out there.  I am actually supposed to have body fat. And way more than these people in barely there bikinis.

So for my own sanity and healthy body image, I do not need to look like those girls.  And consequently I don't want to see those pictures because it's a vicious cycle of self-loathing.

(Facebook settings are very helpful here.  I like the people, they are awesome. This is about me. And my needs.)

What it comes down to is that I don't need to look amazing in a bikini. Because oh my word are there more important things for me to focus on and my worth is not based (in any amount whatsoever) on how I look in or out of a bikini.

Now if my heart and mind could get together on this, that would be all kinds of perfect.

What Not to Do

I did something quite dumb just the other day.  I am still mortified that I, of all people, did this but here it is.  Mostly because maybe if I air it on the Internet I will stop replaying the 1,000 things I will do differently every single time I fly from now on.  The perfect time to do this appears to be as I am trying to fall asleep.  Related: I am very tired.

I have to start out by saying that I am the one at the gate a half hour before the boarding pass even suggests boarding will begin.  Always.  Me and my husband agree on this.

On Sunday, however, after a work trip to Kelowna and spending the weekend with my aunts, mom and cousins visiting in Vernon, I did not do this.  In fact, I did what I mock other people for doing.

We arrived at the airport and I was checked in and ready to go through security in plenty of time for boarding.  Then I looked at the departure screen and noticed a delay. 

So instead of going through security, I stayed out and had tea with the aunts and my Mom. 

About a half hour before the scheduled departure of the delayed flight I went through security found a bathroom and sat down to wait for boarding.  I even noticed that the sign at the gate still had the original departure time but didn't even think anything of it. 

*smacks forehead*

Moments after I sat down, a co-worker came up and told me that they had been calling me - she had stayed in town for the weekend too and happened to be there too.  Isn't that awesome?

At this point I started to think that was weird. I approached the gate but no one was there so I waited.  Then the agent came back from the plane.

Yes, the one I was supposed to be on that was now taxing away from the bloody gate.

The point at which I knew I had screwed up royally was when he said, "You have missed your flight."

He then kindly (and I am not being sarcastic) showed me that the flight that was delayed was a different airline that was going to the same place and the original departure time was only 5 min different. My flight was right above it.  For some reason I didn't notice this - these were the first two lines on the monitor, maybe that is why. 

HOWEVER.

Check the airline and flight number much, Kami?

*smacks forehead again, harder this time*

For the record, the delayed flight only started boarding when I was finding all this out so I was perfectly on time for that one.  Hey, I feel like an idiot, I had to point that out, just for the record.

I was mortified, embarrassed and at this guy's mercy.  I apologized, called myself a moron several times and asked why they don't call people on speakers outside of security. I asked nicely, not in an accusatory tone because I was curious mostly.  It was my responsibility to get myself to the gate on time not theirs.  The airport doesn't allow it was what he told me.  Fair enough. 

Here's the part that steams me - as in I am mad at myself for.

I WAS BLOODY AT THE AIRPORT. 

I can see missing a flight because you get delayed in traffic or encounter an accident or...about a thousand other legitimate reasons.  But sitting in the Whitespot having tea with your mom and aunts?  That has to be a new brand of stupid.

Anyway, the WestJet agent (totally plugging the airline) was beyond fabulous.  He was very nice and treated me with respect and really went above and beyond to help me. 

He quickly checked my options and found that he might not be able to get me all the way home that day on Westjest due to full flights.  He even ran over the other airline to check if he could get me on that delayed flight (yeah the one I thought I was on).  They wouldn't do it since it was so close to departing.  I couldn't fault them for that and for him to do that? Seriously. I can guarantee that airline wouldn't do the same.

I was so thankful that I was flying WestJet.

Basically, to get home that day, I had to hope a seat would open up on the next flight out.  He gave me a 10 -20% chance of that so I didn't get excited.  This happened to be the same flight my mom was leaving on.

Somewhere in here I called Jay to tell him what happened.  I have to give him credit here too.  He could have berated me for my stupidity but Jay is Jay and he wouldn't even think to do that.  He was calm even though I know he was upset.  We all missed each other. I had been gone 5 days by this point and I had to tell him I might not make it home until the next day.  If things had been reversed I am not sure I would have been as forgiving.  Thank you honey.  It means a lot.

The agent took my credit card (there is, understandably, a fee for this kind of stupidity that is very small in comparison) so that he could scoop up the seat as soon as it opened up.  He assured me he would keep checking to see.

I sat down to wait, called Jay again and told him the status and almost started crying as I hung up with him.  I didn't though and I was proud of myself.

Then my mom walked up and I lost it.  I started sobbing like an infant.  Thank goodness my co-worker was gone and did not witness this.  It's bad enough that there were strangers there.  Awkward.

There is just something about your Mom, you know?  Even at 38, I can't help but unleash my inner distress in the middle of an airport waiting room the second I see her.  Isn't she lucky?

So we waited and I did not get my hopes up.  I was prepared to overnight in Calgary and take the first flight to Regina in the morning.  Or alternatively try and make it to Saskatoon so Jay could meet me and my parents half way in the morning.

About 15 min before the flight I was hoping to get on boarded, I checked in with, by now, my favourite airline agent ever and his exact words were, "It's your lucky day!  A seat has opened up!"

My response was, "I could hug you, but that would be inappropriate!"

What he relayed to me as he printed my boarding passes was that he not only waited for seat to open up, he actively found ways to open a seat up - he had three people flying through Calgary re-routed onto a direct flight to their destination and he was also prepared to ask a WestJet employee to switch flights if he had to.  In the meantime, a seat just randomly opened up anyway.

If that isn't going above and beyond, I don't know what is.

He even thanked me for being so understanding.  Um.  I guess that goes to show you some people can't admit they are idiots.  Me?  I have no problem with that.

I have already commended him through the feedback option on the airline website because how could I not?

So.  The lesson learned is that I will always go directly to the gate no matter what.  Oh and maybe check the airline and flight number. 


*alternate title "WestJet is Awesome"

Emotional Purge

A number of years back, there was an incident that still to this day make me ill to my stomach when I think back on it. I have never written about it because it was too raw, there were too many other people involved.   It's now been 6 years and I need to write about it.  This may change your opinion of me but it's part of me so out it goes.

It's the only time in my life that I have ever been looked at with such hate and vehemence. I won't forget that. EVER.

I'll start at the beginning.

About 6 years ago, I met a girl, about my age at a mutual friend's birthday party. She lived in the same city as us, had a child close to Kamden's age (at the time - babies they were!) and didn't know a lot of people as they were new to the city.

We hit it off and I invited her to be part of a splurge group I was part of. We were just finishing a round and had open spots.

It seemed perfect. A new friend, very exciting. I am not a very outgoing person and don't meet and hit it off with people that easily.

She brought another friend into the splurge and it all seemed to be going reasonably well. Though there were observances of eye rolling and such when some of us talked about our older children. I chalked it up to the fact that preschoolers just give more fodder than toddlers and thought, whatever, they'll understand later.

It was the first time in my life that I was part of a large group and felt comfortable.  The ladies were all wonderful, we had fun, we ate good food.

A well known fact about me, for those who know me, is that I am not a bubbly outgoing social butterfly.  Nope.  More of a wall flower, much more at ease in one on one or two on one situations.  Always have been like this and my children are every ounce the same.

After a while the fact that either of them could never bother to RSVP to a gathering was getting to many of us.  It was always requested.  Never once did it happen. Personally, I find such things rather rude and down right uncourteous.

People are busy yes, but too busy to write a one line email, c'mon.

I was quite subtle (oozing sarcasm) when they showed up at the gathering I  hosted having to frantically find chairs for them, I believe I even said, "oh I wasn't sure you would be coming as I never heard from you."  Oh yes, that subtle.

It was either too subtle or as became apparent later, they just thought the whole idea of RSVPing was so not 2006. 

Then came the kicker.  The event that triggered a fall out that even the most pessimistic Kami could not have predicted.

A good friend was organizing a team for the an all night relay event for charity.  Naturally she invited the group to join.  Via email.

Most of us responded.  Via email.  A foreign concept for 2006? I don't think so.

Long after the team was established, said girl asked if she could still be part of it.  The first question from the organizer was, didn't you get my emails?  She let her know that she wasn't sure at that point if we could add another but she would do her best.

I have no idea if this played a role in the fallout or not.  I had nothing to do with this part so probably  not.

Later, when it came to collecting the money, again, no response from this same, now infamous girl.

By this point I had it.  I mean REALLY? Is common courtesy gone by the wayside?

The funny thing is that in person, she oozed friendliness and courtesy. 

*Cough*  "Act* *Cough* *FAKE* *Cough*

Sorry, there I go again. I guess I still haven't learned my lesson.

I made a comment in an email to the team thanking the friend who had done all the work to organize us and collect the money to deliver.  It takes work to do this even when everyone is on their game and when they are not, well, it's more work topped with frustration.

The comment I made was something to the effect of thanks, who knew it would be this much work to organize a bunch of adults.

Was it the truth? Damn straight.

Was it okay to say?  Probably not.  And I was told as much by one person.

All in all, it wasn't the best way to handle an already bad situation.

During the charity event I sensed serious animosity from said girl.  I wasn't surprised, I knew she wouldn't have liked my comment. Of course, THAT email she read.  Murphy!
The kicker though was at the end of the very long night (it was an all night event. ) I chased after her to give her something she had forgotten.

She looked at me with such hatred and venom that it still makes me ill to think about it.

I simply turned on my heel and walked away. I wasn't going to deal with at that point.  No sleep.  Not going to happen.

So I didn't deal with it.  The next group gathering was at her place the week following.  I wasn't going. I mean, why would I?  It was clear she loathed my guts. I wasn't putting myself through that.  Also I have zero ability to be fake and act like nothing is wrong.

Selfish.  Yes, because when I wasn't there, she attacked my good friend who had organized the whole thing.  In front of the entire group.

That's right folks.  I still cannot believe that happened.

And this friend is one of the nicest, most loyal people I know.  She did not deserve one word of the hate hurled at her.

I wasn't there so I only heard about it second hand.  But from people I love and trust.  It got ugly.  Like into the nitty gritty about about why she felt there was no reason to RSVP to the gatherings -  she didn't care how many people would come so why is it necessary.  Etc. Etc. Etc. 

I have not seen this girl since she looked at me with hate.  And if I never see her again, it will be too soon. The whole situation is not something I can ever forget.  Forgive sure, but forget, never.

She never turned up at another gathering, and if I recall right, her gathering was the end of a round.  I stayed in the group one more year but the whole thing left such a bad taste in my mouth and I was no  longer comfortable with the whole group setting.  I loved each and every one in the group, I just preferred to see them individually or in smaller groups. 

After writing all this, I am not sure what my point even is.  Just that it stays with me.  I think I understand why it all happened but I am just making assumptions about her that are either true or false but it helps me forgive her and myself.

It's over.

And I hope I have learned that stating the blunt truth is not the best option.

Peace out.

7 days, Day 2 and Christmas Our Style

Day 2 - which was technically yesterday, you all know how it makes my type A personality itchy to be late, however, I never did get an invite to the Flickr group so maybe I don't have to play by the rules anyway?

The theme for day 2 was bright and these new dishes I got for Christmas from my boys are bright and cheery so they fit the bill me thinks. My smile is somewhat misleading, I really am excited about these - they are adorable and fit with our (my) snowman theme.

Day 3 - this idea was much better in my head or of my head.

Get it? Of my head....oh boy, she's lost it again, folks. I think the first sign was a post two days in a row.

Moving on, because I can't just post that. Oh no, how fun would that be?

As I noted last week, we opened our presents together as a family of four this weekend. For the first time ever, I am pleased with the photos I took during such an event. Normally, my shots are all from the wrong angle, at the wrong perspective etc. So for the grandparents, who I hope are interested, here they are.

Working together to open the thing I said we would never get. Yes, that thing. Starts with a "W" and rhymes with me. Uh huh.

Admiring Daddy's new watch.

Playing that other thing I swore we would never own. I caved.

Totally and utterly caved. If you are going to cave you might as well go all the way, right?

But on a good note, the behaviour around here has been stellar.

Gosh, I love these two.