Fourty: The year the beep hit the fan

I have heard that once you hit 40, that's when the s__t hits the fan.  I guess it's true because it's been quite a year. Probably one of the hardest I have been through. I am grateful to have gone through it though because I learned more than I care to admit.

I am over nine months out from the start of the trouble and only just now ready to put my thoughts down into words.  I have been open and honest about it all with my family and friends because that is just how I am wired. I can't pretend or lie very well. I am finally ready to share it here.

In mid-December 2014, I started having trouble sleeping. First it was waking up in the middle of the night and not going back to sleep for hours and then it morphed into barely sleeping at all. After a couple of weeks, I was a disaster. I have always needed 8-9 solid hours of hard core sleep. I love sleep. I am a champion sleeper.  Trouble sleeping, what the what?  It's never lasted for long when I have had the odd bad night and then it was always easily attributed to some stress factor I was conscious of.

By the last week of school before Christmas, I was having anxiety.  That's fun.  I have never experienced true anxiety. It's not mental. Nope. It's a full blown physical chain of events that comes and goes almost randomly.  Of course by this time, due to the lack of sleep, I was but a shell of my former self.

My doctor subscribed sleeping pills. Like as in the ones that you can get addicted to. I didn't care at that point, just knock me out for all that is good and holy in the world.

I took the first one and slept for....a whole hour.  Mother trucker. Now what? She told me to I could take up to two. So I popped another. Great, another whole effing hour of sleep. And then I tossed and turned and went down to the spare bed and back up to our bed and maybe slept another hour in total and not consecutive. The best part? Almost falling asleep and twitching so hard I woke myself up only to have to start all over. Good times, I tell you, good times.

It was one of my own personal  hells. There are many. Another involves spiders, as in tarantulas. I could go on but for the sake of preventing nightmares, I'll stop there.

By this point the anxiety was 99% related to sleep. Will I finally sleep tonight? OMG what if I don't sleep tonight? What if I die of lack of sleep?  (yes, it was all completely logical and well thought out can't you tell?)

Two days later and a day before we were heading to visit family for Christmas, I was done. I was having full blown anxiety the whole day through, not sleeping and basically a basket case. It was a Sunday I think so I had to go to a mediclinic rather than my family doctor. At this point, I needed some way to control the anxiety so that I could hopefully have more success with the sleeping pills.

I was prescribed an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety drug.  Stop for a minute. That was heavy. How did it come to this? HOW?  A phrase I uttered often was "why is this happening to me?".

The kicker? It takes 2-3 months to take effect. Awesome. He also suggested I see a psychologist. Luckily enough I got in the next day and right before we left for Christmas.

She was great and she provided me with some podcasts that were supposed to relax me.
I listened to one in the car on the way to Saskatoon and finally was able to relax.

Later that night, as I talked with my parents, the anxiety ramped up again. It was always worse in the evening. I go into the bedroom and listen to the podcast and proceed to have an awesome panic attack. 

Let's just stop right and here and point out that my mom was my rock at this point. I was like a child again and wanted my mom to fix this. She wanted to fix it too. I am sure it was really hard for everyone to see me like this. It wasn't me.

The next morning after yet another crappy night of little to no sleep, my mom calls my brother and they are brainstorming. He is a pharmacist and finally suggests that maybe it's my thyroid acting up. At this point, no one especially me, could consider anything other than a physical issue.  Off my mom and I go to the ER because it's the week of Christmas and I am not in my home city so the family doctor is not an option.

After a very long wait that involved me losing my shit after the doctor came to see a girl that had stubbed her toe (I kid you not - who goes to the ER for that?!) before me.  I was a mess. I wanted help and so I lost it when this occurred right in front of me - in the waiting room - a whole other story. The resident asks me if I am okay as I am sobbing in the middle of a busy waiting room. No, I said, I am NOT okay, that is why I am here. Can I please be seen?!

The solution? To give me effing Ativan. At this point they could have shot me up with heroin. If it would make me sleep, I would have done it. The doctor makes us wait another two hours because she wanted to see if the Ativan could calm me down. No it actually didn't, I am a logical person who had a tantrum to try and get action and I calmed down on my own.  She then tells me she won't test my thyroid because she can't treat it anyway and I should not be taking the sleeping pills but should be taking Ativan and sends me home.

She was lovely, in an I don't want to deal with you, you have a mental issue and I wash my hands of you, just go home and sleep kind of way. Merry Christmas to you too, lady.

So at bedtime that night, I take the Ativan as lovely doctor beyatch prescribed and after a half hour of practically hyperventilating go out of the bedroom and my mom takes one look at me and we head to a different ER. Ativan was not at all helpful, to say the least.

We had a much better doctor. He tested my thyroid even though he was 99% certain it wasn't the issue. It wasn't but at least knowing that the test showed that, I had some closure.  He also suggested taking both sleeping pills at the same time. I had not idea I could.

Mom had me pop them in the car before we drove back out to their place (25 min drive give or take). I was out like a light and mom had the pleasure of escorting a rather inebriated adult daughter into the house. It was comical. I reached for something and fell over.  You have to laugh at these times.

Christmas was a blur. While taking two at once helped, it was not the final solution. I spent Christmas Day in bed resting because by this point, I had absolutely no energy to even sit upright.  We then headed off to Kimberly, BC for a ski trip after Christmas and I loved the car ride. It put me right to sleep! Once we got home, I was able to see my family doctor and she finally got me on the right mix of anti-anxiety meds to get me sleeping through the night (can you say, triple the normal dose!).  It took me weeks before I felt "normal" again (ie no anxiety) with weekly visits to the doctor to check in.

Fast forward 9 months and I have been through the process of weaning off the sleeping pills (huzzah!) and have cut the dose on one of the anti-anxiety drugs to 1/6 the original dose. The side effect of that drug, 20lb weight gain thankyouverymuch.

So. The moral of the story is that all of this was caused by stress. Did I feel stressed? No. Not at all. I had it all under control. I  knew how to manage the demands of being on call 24/7 for my job. I prioritized! I was confident none of this was stress related for a long time.

I had to finally break down and admit that it had to be stress. There was no other reason. Thankfully changes were easily made to my job to cut my stress by half or more.  I am so lucky to work with the organization I work with. They are so great to me.

I also had to make some significant changes in my personal life. I had to give up my one personal training client. That was hard. Really hard. I cried that day. I was pretty proud of my accomplishment and the fact that I could by dynamic enough to have my accounting career and a side gig as a PT. But I did learn my lesson. And I really do think that this had to happen for me to learn.  It was hard but without having gone through this much hell, I don't really think I would have admitted to myself that my life was not manageable as it was. 

The other huge change that is still a huge work in progress is my self body image. Gaining 20lbs will put that in perspective in a damn hurry I tell you.  This is me last summer when I decided to get "serious" about my fitness:

  Can you see why I needed this slap in the face?  What in the hell did I think was wrong with how I looked? That day, I could have given you a list of at least 10 things. Today? Not a one.

Like I said, 20lbs will put that in perspective in a damn hurry. I will not likely ever look like that again. I still wasn't happy so why why why?!

Right now I work out because I enjoy it, I feel strong and fit and because I am good enough just as I am right now at this very moment not when I lose the 20lbs. Okay, I gotta be honest. I would at least like to get close to where I was in that picture above. But I am working on that because as I compare these two photos, I wonder if there is really that much of a difference. I see a huge difference but I am biased and skewed.

I have been reading the book that the founder of GoodLife Fitness wrote. His mantra is "Good enough is good enough".  I was searching for perfection and it ended up with me in the ER having a tantrum like a child. I don't need perfection. I need a body that can live my life and I already have that. 

I am good enough.

The Great Scuffle Epiphany of 2013

Scuffles are something my mom has made for Christmas since I can remember. My aunt also makes them. If you are not familiar with them, they are irresistible little cinnamon roll ups of sweet devilish goodness. I started making them a few years ago and because there are one of Jack's favourites I keep trying. You see, my mom and aunt are experts. Their scuffles are always so much moister and more uniformly shaped than my sad little experiments. People, what I am saying is I got big shoes to fill. I haven't even attempted perogies yet. Hold me.

Last year when I lamented at how dry my scuffles were, my mom suggested I bake them at a lower temperature. Guess how I remembered that this year? Not with my spidey senses, oh no, it's because I wrote it on the recipe card. I am magic like that.

I went to yoga after supper and while lying in final resting pose (savasana)I had an epiphany on how to make the shape more uniform. Don't try this at home folks. The last thing you are supposed to be doing in savasana is thinking about what you are going to do later. I am a rebel at yoga. Leah (aka my yoga instructor), don't read that part. Oops, probably should have mentioned that sooner, eh?

Edited - Leah said the following:  "That is what is SUPPOSED to happen.  Clear the crap and clutter in your mind through the postures and conscious breathing. And then a better and more concise thought process occurs. My work here is done."  

Here is what came to me:

So because I can't roll out a uniform circle to save my soul, my epiphany was to make a uniform circle using a plate.  Huzzah!! That way, when I cut the circle into slices like pizza (the prop department failed to take a picture of that part - they are so fired), they are all the same size.  More or less.

It totally worked!  They are much closer to the same size and they are so much moister.

Now if I just hadn't made them with real milk and butter, I could actually eat them.

(Why I did that is a whole other post that involves Jay and I in Jamaica in less than 2 months and wanting to not look like someone spread cottage cheese on the back of my legs.  Stay tuned, I know you can't wait for that.)

Running Season - Over and Out

This year, I tried something new for running. I actually trained.

You would think that would be a no brainer.  And I guess I should clarify. I have always "trained" however, what I did was make it up as I went along.  Not the most effective, although it worked to some extent. I finished all my races and I mostly, continually improved.

But this year, I wanted to break through, really put my all into it.  So when a friend mentioned the sub-55 min 10k training plan (by Jeff Gaudette) in the running app I had, I thought, hmmmmmm.  That is a lofty goal.  My personal best (PB) is a good almost 4 min slower than that.  But I could do the plan and shoot to break 58 min.

I mentioned it to my trainer, Dan, and he told me heck yes I could do it.  At that point, I tried to believe but well, I am a healthy pessimist at heart.

In May I had raced to a time of 59:45 or so and that was good, really good for me.  I hadn't worked too hard yet and I already was close to last year's PB.  And I felt good during the race.  It was one of the good ones, where quitting isn't even something that passes through your mind.

Sometime at the end of May I began the training plan.

And as the workouts were completed and I was meeting the pace requirements, I started to believe that yes, I could actually shoot for a 55 min 10k.

Fast forward to early September and we ran our relay race for the Queen City Marathon.  My leg was supposed to be 11k.  I ran and felt amazing the whole way and according to my timing device I was at 54:58 at the 10k mark.  I finished my leg in 60:36.  I was beyond happy.  On a high for a week or so.

Until I talked to a friend who ran the same leg.  Her phone said it was only 10.7k.  I know that my timing device (quit putting stupid random links in my post Blogger!)  tends to overestimate the distance (it said 11.06k), but really?  By almost 400m?!

That deflated me a wee bit because I didn't quite achieve the pace as I had thought.  Time to get back to work and finish the training for Oct 5 10k race.  That one the distance was fixed. The time is published.  This was the goal race.  And I still had work to do.

The other huge piece to my training plan has been nutrition.  My trainer has been working with me on macronutrients.  He gives me set amounts of carbs, protein and fat (the good kind) to eat each day.  I have been following his guidance since early in the summer and what a difference. As soon as I got serious about it, the runs became so much easier.  Less sucking wind and swearing in my head, more you are doing it, just keep pushing, it's hard but you got this.

Yesterday was the day.  The one I had been working so hard for all summer long.  I logged between 20 and 30 km a week running 2-3 times a week. Speed work , tempo runs and long slower runs with increased speed at the end. I was more ready for this race than any other race I have ever entered.

I am foreshadowing here.  Do you see where I am going?

I believed. I could do this.  I felt like I held myself back a bit during the QCM race. This time, I was going for it.  I was all in.

Jen came in the night before to run the 5k and we had dinner together and visited.  It was great, I haven't seen her in too long.

In the morning, we headed out. I was a bundle of nerves (did I put enough pressure on myself or what?) but we arrived and jogged to the bathroom.  Jen commented that she was just getting nervous and noted I was probably calm. I said yes, as soon as I get here and start warming up, I calm considerably.

I said good luck to Jen and lined up at the start.  As I was waiting, I see friends, Leah (friend, massage therapist and yoga instructor) and her partner. They were shooting for sub 60 min so when the gun went off, I took off.  I felt good, I was running fast.  It was great. I was breathing well and I felt good. (Guess what my trainer told me to do? start slow and build.  He's usually right. But did I listen? Oh no.)

Then I hit 3k and I started thinking, shit.  What is up?

I started sucking wind.  Bad.  My problem has never been that my legs get tired, it's that I can't bloody breathe.

I slowed slightly, trying to get myself together.  Somewhere just before 4 k I see this girl in pink beside me and she glances at me a couple of times. I thinking what is your issue chick, pass me and leave me be.

Then I hear her say, "She must be in the zone"

I finally look and guess who it is?  The friends I left at the start (she was in red but I saw pink, I think that says a lot about how in my head I was).  Uh huh.  Apparently I was very gracious and welcoming and was all like, "Oh. Hi."

She asked me how I was feeling.  She knew.  She noted later that she didn't think it was a good thing that they had caught up to me.

Not good was my reply.  So what does she do?  She goes into yoga instructor mode and coaches me the entire rest of the race.  Her and Ahren could have taken off and in fact I told them to more than once, I felt like a complete butt head. Here I trained and shot my mouth off about this goal and I was the one who needs their help.  They had to slow down for me. Later Ahren commented that you never leave a man behind. But it was a race I said, leaving a man behind is so fair game!

I am very grateful for Leah because she pushed me harder than I had it in me yesterday to push myself.  I had to walk multiple times to catch my breath and get my breathing back...she egged me on. Each time I slowed, she pumped me up.  I didn't always want to hear it. I wanted to quit. I know I wouldn't have even if she hadn't been there but I would have slowed down way  more. She didn't let me, she made me do it even though it hurt like hell.

At about the 8k mark we almost got in a fight.  She egged me up a hill (there were more hills on that route than San Francisco, I swear.  I don't care if we live in the flattest place on earth.  Yesterday the hills were 5x magnified, the bastards) and tried to tell me it was the last one.

I didn't talk much during the race. I just listened but at that point I had to call her bluff.   It SO wasn't the last hill and I knew it. There is another one, just before the entrance to the track we finish on.  It was funny then and it cracks me up now. I was like a four year old child.  It's not the last hill,  I yelled.  Then I walked.  Again.  Because I had used up all my air yelling.  Like a four year old.  I am so mature, it physically pains me.

She nearly kicked me in the butt at that point.

Then I got it in gear.  I thought to myself, you are not going to let this one bad run ruin all the work you did this summer.  It's not going to ruin how far you know you have come.  Suck it up princess and get it done.

By this point, we were close. I could finally see the light at the end of the pain.  When I got to the finish the pain would stop.  And my goal?  It wasn't completely gone. I looked down just as we finished that last bastardo of a hill and my watch said 53min and some seconds.  I was close. I had to do about 400 more meters and I know from training if I kick into high gear, I can do that in just over 2 min. So I could still break 56 min.  That was just what I needed to pull that last bit from deep within me (see Leah, I was listening!). 

We were on the track. That track, for the record, might only be about 300 meters from when we re-enter it and finish (we also start on the track so we do the first 100 meters at the beginning of the race) but it feels like 8 effing miles. I have run  this exact race 2 times before, I know this.

But the finish.  It was. right. there. The pain would stop.

Then Leah decides I need to pass a girl about 15 meters in front of us.  So we do.  God knows where I got that energy from.  Apparently we passed her. I have no recollection of this after I looked up and saw her in front of me. I sprinted (as fast as I could go at this point anyway) and Leah is still cheering me on.  Does she not have to breathe I think?  And also how do I get me some of that because air, it was a deficit for me yesterday for about 40 some minutes of that damn race.

We neared the finish and I hear Jen cheering me on - friends rule the world y'all.

We crossed the finish I stopped my watch and the time read 55:53.

Then I bent over and tried not to die.

My previous personal best was in this exact race last year.  58:43.  I was almost 3 min faster.

That is HUGE.

I am happy. But.  My goal was 55 min and I hate runs that hurt that much. They are mentally exhausting.  I was fighting a cold all week.  Maybe that was it.  Maybe it was how fast I stared out. I don't know what it was and I can analyse it till the cows come home (and I will, don't you worry) but the moral of the story is I had a terrible run. Horrid.  I was at my worst. The pathetic noises I know that came out of me mortify me.  Having a friend there makes my patheticness (what? it's a word, it describes Kami during a terrible run) come out. Alone, I would never make those noises out loud. Terry Lyn will know all about this as she pushed me to a personal best a few years again the same manner. Except that time, I hadn't trained properly.

I had a personal best.  A horrid run that resulted in a personal best.

I have to be proud.  I am working on it.  I'll get there as soon as I stop feeling like a truck ran over me.

The moral of this story is that I am not a natural runner. I have to work four times as hard as say, someone like Leah who could have easily broke 55 min yesterday had she not been an amazing friend and instead helped me. 

It was all worth it.  Reaching a goal is rewarding and the only reason I run.  I may not have quite gotten exactly to the goal I wanted but I did reach a goal. I ran faster because I trained hard (and Leah didn't let me quit on myself - maybe I am self-destructive Jen, I lied).

Mission accomplished.

Gratitude Squared

Remember when I was waiting a biopsy on my thyroid.  Yeah that was a long time ago, wasn't it?

As I waited for the biopsy, I went through some stuff.  The grouchies would be a mild adjective to describe it.  I offended a few people with a FB post in the process.  Not my best moment but hey, those who have taken the time to get to know me realize that wasn't me and it was a mistake.  Last I checked, we all make mistakes.

The biopsy involved six or seven needles to the throat.  Jay came with me and as usual, was my rock.

It was uncomfortable and sore and all the things you would think but by the next morning, it was all gone.

 

Then we waited and I kind of forgot that I was waiting to find out if I had the C-word.  For some weird reason, I had more trouble with the time before the biopsy.  I can't explain it other than work has been very busy and it occupied me.  I had no time to think and dwell  and that was a good thing I guess.

 

Until the day before I was to find out the results. Then I started getting a bit stressed.

 

 

 

Jay again came with me to get the results.  You know for everyone's safety.  As we sat there waiting I could barely breathe.  I had tried to tell myself it wouldn't be a big deal either way.  We'll deal with it. In a strange method to calm myself, I was actually looking forward to a day or two off work to accommodate the surgery.

 

I know.

 

You do weird things in these situations. 

 

The doctor walked in and checked his computer and said those two wonderful words that I wasn't sure I could hear, "It's negative."

 

And then I stopped holding my breath.

 

I made it all the way out of the building before I collapsed into Jay's arms in a puddle of tears.

 

Then I called my mom and we started all over again.

 



I do not know why I was one of the lucky ones who dodges the C-bullet.  I shake my head still. 

 

What I do know is that I have so much to be grateful for far beyond this one blip on the radar.  I won't always be this lucky but I will always be grateful for what I have.

 

Jay.  He brings out the best in me and loves me despite my million and one faults.  I thank my lucky stars every day for that day in June twenty years ago when we met.  

 

My boys.  They do not know much about any of this other than there was something in my throat being checked.   We didn't want them to worry until there was something to worry about.  I am so glad to be their mom.

 

My parents.  They are always there when I need them. I couldn't ask for more.

 

My friends.  You cannot pick your family but you sure can pick your friends and I have some of the best around.

 

Life is busy and good and I am beyond grateful for every single moment.

 

xoxox

Insert Curse Word Here

Hi.

So.

It's been an interesting few days, can I start there?

I opened this page to start writing this hours ago.  This is kind of hard.

I'll start at the beginning.

I was born.

Oops, that might be a bit too far back.

About a year ago, at a regular appointment, my doctor found a lump on my thyroid.  My thyroid is next in line for my body to attack since it has already annihilated my ovaries. So he's been watching it's function for probably two years now.

I was a bit concerned but discussed with a friend and she said she had one too.  I was scheduled for an ultrasound 6 months from that date so I forgot about it and moved on with life.

6 months later, I go for the results of the ultrasound and received confirmation that yes, there is a growth.  Tears form in my eyes at this point.

He went on to tell me that it's very small, 1 cm (or maybe he just told me it was 1cm and I inferred small?!) and that the chance of, gulp, cancer, is only 5%.  At that point, there would be no biopsy and we would do another ultrasound in 6 months. If it grew, it was biopsy city.

I went out to our brand new Pilot (we had only had it for about a month at that point) called Jay to tell him the news. I thought I was okay. I still swear I was fine. 

It's called denial or shock, people, trust me you don't even know  you are doing it.
I guess denial is the right word then....

I hung up with Jay and backed up to head home.  And backed into a parking divider that was about 3 ft high.  Shit.

Good thing the Pilot is equipped with a back up camera, no?  Apparently it only works if you actually look at the display screen.  Who knew?

I didn't even stop to assess the damage, I drove home cursing in my head the whole way at already wrecking the new vehicle.

I got home and checked.  I only broke the plastic cover over the hitch. WHEW.

I was upset for a day or two and then just sort of put it out of my mind.  Again, denial.  From the outside, you are all thinking, how? Why? What is wrong with you?

Trust me, I would think the same thing. Turns out when it's you, you deal with things in strange, not necessarily rational, ways.

I told only a few people, maybe 3, and then never talked about it again.  This is weird for Kami who has taken over sharing to new levels in various other aspects of her life.

And now she's talking in the third person.  God help her now!

Fast forward to last week and I had the second ultrasound follow up appointment.  The day before I read this post by Angella about her friend recently diagnosed with, you guessed it, thyroid cancer. 

No, I didn't freak out at all.  (bold faced lie)

The week before, during the ultrasound, I had a bad feeling.  Then this post was like a sign.  I arranged for Jay to meet me at the appointment.  You know for the safety of the Pilot and everyone in a 50 feet radius of me behind the wheel.

The first thing the doctor checked was the results of the blood work and he remarkeds that my thyroid function is completely back to normal (it had been mildly low previously) and that I didn't need him anymore (Endocrinologist).

Say what?

"WHAT ABOUT THE LUMP?" I asked politely.

Did you have an ultrasound he asks?

(And doctors wonder why we question their abilities. Seriously, do you not have my file right there? Do you not review said file before you come in to talk to me?)

"YES." I reply politely. Last week.

(Do people with cancer or those who might potentially have cancer still have to be polite?  What? It's a valid question, isn't it?)

"Oh, yes, and they, and I, recommend a biopsy."

SAY WHAT?

"Oh, did it grow?" I ask.

"No, but they, and I recommend a biopsy."

By they, I assume he means the radiologist that would have reviewed the ultrasound. And I kind of love how he had to add his own little shout out there each time too.

(he's fine, I am just being snarky)

This is where shock sets in. I had no reaction other than confusion that we now had to have a biopsy even though there was no growth in the growth (say that five times fast).

(is it really evident that I use humour to deal?)

We leave, Jay ensures I don't run over anything on the way out of the parking lot after hugging me and just being overall awesome as usual and I head home.

I try to work. 

Text my mom.  Text Jay ongoing as he keeps me from losing my shit all over the place.

I won't lie.  I had a couple of really really rough days. Tears were common place.  The whole feeling of I can't believe this is happening to me alternating between relax, this is a minor thing, it's treatable and you don't even know if you have it yet.

It was exhausting.

I found it hard to break the news and actually still have only told a handful of people, and those that I told, I did over text.

It was easier.  We all deal in different ways and I am taking the approach that this is what works for me.

I wanted to blog about it Friday but I think it's good that I waited. I was too raw, too emotional then.

I have come a long way since then thanks to the amazing people in my life.  I have to admit that being the one receiving the words of encouragement was hard for me. It's much easier being on the other end.

Thank you, I love each and every one of you and am so thankful you are in my life.

By Saturday morning I was feeling much better.  As I ran up the hill during boot camp, I came to the conclusion that my body is strong and it can do this.  If I have to fight cancer, I'll take this kind and I'll fight with all I have.

Now I coast waiting to hear when the biopsy will be. In the meantime, I will be living life, working out and eating clean (ish)  and loving on all the amazing people in my life.

Ciao.

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"

Chopped

A few posts ago (about 2 given my recent notable lack of posting) I noted the next time I went for my regular colour, the hair was due for a change. Well, I followed through on my word. And lucky me, Jay is still speaking to me.

He will not, however, say he likes it. On principle alone, I am sure.

I like it. And the change is just what I needed.

But before the big reveal, because who is shameless enough to have already posted pictures on FB, let's go back and remember the different phases of Kami's hair.

There are some gems in this one.

Oh and this one too(safely falling into the what the hell was I thinking category).

And we CANNOT leave out the blunders of my youth (we all need a laugh or three!).

Perhaps someday this latest look will make it into a post to add to the list above, but for now, I am pretty happy with the change.



And the rear view, you know because I am not shameless enough, I have to!




I would like to thank my long time stylist, Kristy and my trainer of over three years, Ashley - you got my back ladies. Literally.

I Must Read

I have always loved to read but I took a hiatus when the boys were little, you know, due to the lack of time thing. Oh and the fact that when I read I have a tendency to block out all other noise or activity going on around me. A bomb could go off and I would just keep on reading thinking I'll check that out when I finish this chapter.

Not really a good scenario when you have little kids running around, particularly one that knocks his own teeth out.

However, since they are now at an age where they are less likely to stick their finger in a light socket, I have taken my habit to a whole new level.

I devour books. On vacation last month, I finished the last book in the Harry Potter Series (Book 7 is BIG - caused grief with suitcase weights, let me tell you) and since I had run out of books, borrowed my mom's book.

I read Water for Elephants in 2 days.

I could barely put it down to eat and mix myself another drink.

I am pretty excited to see the movie which comes out later this month (Reese Witherspoon, yay!).

Now that was a good book. I can devour a mediocre book in 4-5 days tops.

I don't buy books. I am a huge fan of the library. Free and ample selection. I am all about that. I rarely re-read a book and we have a lack of storage issue in our house. Hence, no books.

Despite this we have boxes of books cluttering up our one storage space. Clearly I did not implement the no buying book policy soon enough.

When we returned from vacation I returned the last Harry Potter book (I really enjoyed the series and look forward to watching the movies) and the Jodi Piccoult book (I forget which one now) that had travelled to Florida with us and neglected to check out my usual 3-4 books.

This past week I was going into withdrawal.

I would sit down on the couch after supper with a cup of tea and go, now what?

I was reading the sale flyers in desperation.

It was bad.

Today, I visited my local library got a stack of completely new to me authors.

I am half way through the first book already.

To say I love reading would be kind of an understatement. It's practically like breathing to me.

I Miss This

I started blogging way back in March 2006 (wow, 5 years ago, time flies). For the next several years, I was an avid blogger, posting on this, that and everthing in between.

I loved it.
I developed a love of writing, of expressing myself. This, considering in my previous life I had despised any form of expressing my thoughts in any form of coherant manner, was no small acheivement.

2010 saw dramatic decreases in my post numbers. My heart just was not in it in anymore. I don't know why.

And now that I am working far more, my desire to blog has waned even further. It took me a week to post our vacation post, for goodness sake.

The other day, Kamden needed to bring a story about when he was a baby to school. The first place we looked to find one was in the blog book from 2006.

We laughed. We cried (from laughing so hard). And we lauged some more. (My writing was pretty laughable)

It reminded me of why I do this. Those memories are priceless and not a one of them did I remember until we read the post out loud.

I am reminded not only of the memories I am preserving but of the community I have missed while I have been absent from this world.

I miss y'all.

Obviously now that I am working, my time to read blogs is much more limited. At the end of the day, after working on a computer all day, I am not that keen on logging onto Google Reader.

While I was on vacation, I did have the time and I realized how much I missed reading my favourite blogs.

So what does this mean?

I hope it means that I will make the time to do something I love.

It's not a promise but it's darn close.

Positive Spin

Grumble, grumble, bother, bother.

That has been my mood for the past couple of days. It is totally explainable (I'll take hormones, for a $1,000, Alex) but also ridiculously annoying. Top that off with a Monday morning that was less than stellar and here I am.

It is time to spin to the tune of the positive instead of the grumble, grumble, bother bother.

Onward ho.

I am thankful that when Jack called from school at 9:12AM this morning to let me know he wouldn't be coming home for lunch today because they were going a field trip today (not tomorrow like I was sure the note from the teacher said - oh right, keeping it positive) he was calm, cool and collected. If you know Jack, then you know stuff like this phases him. I am sure I will hear about it later as he told me it was Monday not Tuesday like I was sure the note (which I could no longer locate) said. But in the moment, he held it together. And he got a lunch from somewhere. THAT should be intersting, he is notoriously picky.

Coffee and dark chocolate. Why? See above re: hormones.

My family. They love me. Miraculous in itself most days.

My friends. They open my eyes. They make me think. It is a good thing.

My job. I had a dream last night that I was working back at my old job. Scratch that. It was a nightmare. So despite the fact that this morning kicked me in the butt, I love my job. Challenges are good. Mistakes are good because I learn.

Onward ho, hauling a positive spin with me. Perspective is always a good thing.

True Confession

I have to come clean. This has been in the skeleton in my closet for too long. I can't take the lying and the covering up anymore.

Here it is. My deepest dark secret.

But first, for comic relief since I can't handle the stress of this.

Like my new uniform? Actually it's Kamden's. He's 6. I don't know what kind of glue the person was sniffing when they picked the sizes for an under 8 year old soccer team but clearly they need to upgrade. Kamden's whole team looks like a bunch of third world children that were kindly donated some used women's' soccer team uniforms. The shorts fit me for goodness sake. On him they are practically pants.

Okay, okay, there is no more putting this off. It's got to come out sooner or later, might as well bite the bullet. Which is kind of ironic, you will see later.

In the early to mid 90's I went through a country phase.

It wasn't just the sudden love of all things Reba and Garth. Oh no. I took it to a whole other level.

Wranglers. Belt buckle the size of a tea cup saucer. Roper boots (the tie up ones with tassels, oh yes indeed). And because no outfit comprised of these fashion mainstays would be complete without one, a western shirt.

Luckily for me, there is no photographic evidence of this dark period of my youth.

My only defense is that I actually did own a horse and I did ride regularly. Unfortunately, this defense does not cover the times I went to the bar decked out this paraphernalia.

Oh the crazy things we do in our youth.

Okay, I've cleaned out my closet. Now it's your turn. Lay it on me. What secrets are you hiding? It's time. Let it out.

And also be glad you aren't here.

Enough said.

Photo Food Journal

Back in early 2009, I documented my journey to fit. This journey has not ended and I have not stopped seeing the positive results. I began my journey by doing cardio 4-5 times a week. In 2008, after a year of cardio alone, I was determined that I needed to kick it up a notch. Or three.

Cue working with a personal trainer. Worth every single penny. Then I took up running and ran a half marathon and then kept running regularly (much shorter distances though, whew) along with regular weight training.

This brings us to today. I am down to the weight I was when Jay and I first got married, I have much more energy (most days) and I just feel all around better. We won't discuss my shopping addiction. It's the only downside so far to getting fitter and healthier. I want to buy fun, trendy clothes now because when I try them on, my reaction is not what the %&$&$^ is that?

However, this last week and half, I have been lethargic and down right grumpy. It's not my hormones this time. Those are under control thanks to a lovely prescription to Seasonale .

What it is, and I know it, is my eating habits have been sliding backwards. Over this journey to fit, I have made several changes to my eating habits, slowly and surely. Lately, what with Thanksgiving pumpkin pie and turkey, I have been falling back into the trough. Literally.

So today, I am getting out of the trough and back into clean eating (Kami's edition) and because I am desperate for blog material, you are the lucky winners of a photo food journal. Hold your applause until the end, please.

For breakfast, calcium added orange juice, 9 grain oatmeal with a few raisins topped with almond milk. Did I mention that I am lactose intolerant? I have, for the most part, given up all dairy. And I don't actually miss it that much because when there is a dessert or dish that has dairy, all I need is a little help from my friend, Lactaid.

Breakfast is followed by my morning coffee, Organo Gold Coffee to be specific. Whatever that ganoderma extract does, it works. I living proof. Regular coffee makes my menopause symptoms go bananas (and not in a good way) but this stuff doesn't. Colour me happy, coffee coloured to be specific. I split the pack into two and have two cups a day.

Another important change I made to my eating habits is eating less but eating more often. It works, people, it really works. Energy levels stay much more constant and you stay happier. It is win win. My snack range from fruit and nut mix, to Sweet and Salty Peanut granola bars (YUM) to this one, soy yogurt, half a banana and 1/3 cup of Choo-it oatmeal mix.

Lunch is often leftovers.

Today it was turkey meatloaf with sun dried tomatoes, steamed broccoli and cauliflower and snap peas.

There will be another snack before supper, since today, the boys have swimming right after school and then Kamden has a soccer game. I am also sipping my second cup of coffee as I type this.

Supper will be a packed picnic to eat in between. Somehow.

Today, for Jay and I, supper will be salads accompanied by last night's BBQ'd steak. Top it off with the oil and vinegar dressing my mom has been making since I can remember (I can make it now. All by myself. I am so growed up), it will be good. I hope.

And later, because every day still requires some form of sweetness, I will have a square of dark chocolate (70% cocoa butter). Mmm. And probably another snack once the kids go to bed.

So there you have it. I am pledging to get back on track with this here gem (Ha!) of a post.

Because it is all worth it.

Any ideas on how I can eat even better? Or did I inspire you to make a few changes? Or did I bore you to tears? I am going for a record!

Why It Is Good to Be Me

A friend commented yesterday that I am in such a good place right now. Between that and a high school acquaintance's FB comment (that I am positive would be a friend if we lived closer - hi Tirzah!):

"I am truly grateful for: 1) no wind this morning, 2) that I am strong enough to stand up for what I believe in and what I want in my life, and 3) a supportive man who allows me to be me!"

It made me sit back and reflect. Damn straight I am in a good place! I have always been strong to stand up for what I have wanted in my life, and I have been sharing life with the perfect man for me for the last 17 years.

I take none of this for granted.

I remember where I was and how far I have come.

I no longer pine for something more; for something a little different than my reality.

I am living my life instead of hoping for a different life.

There are so many 'what if's' in the world and we can spend a lifetime wishing and hoping for something different.

I did that for a time. I, personally, would not recommend it.

I am so grateful that I have somehow, no doubt by the grace of God, found contentment. I look forward to every new day not because I hope it will bring something better, but that it will be more of the same.

Daily, there is something to remind me that this is how it was supposed to be:

- A dinner out to a nice restaurant with the four of us

- a trip to Las Vegas for the two of us with no worries that our boys would not be perfectly fine with their Grammy and Granddaddy (more on that trip later, I promise)

- a concert night for the two of us while the boys stayed home with a teenage babysitter (they are 9 and 6 and last month was the first time - yes, really)

- my health and fitness because really, if things had turned out the way I had once wanted, I would not be where I am today in that regard

- making my boys laugh because they are old enough to 'get it'

I can't really describe adequately in words what I feel. The best way to describe it is peace, joy, love and contentment all rolled together into a ball of excitement for what the future will bring for our family and for my career, which I can now focus on a little bit more.

That is why it is good to be me. If I could share a little piece of this with everyone I know and love, I truly would.

10 Honest Things

I've been tagged twice to do this post listing 1o honest things about me. As I wrote it, it was more 10 honest opinions or actually the top ten things I felt like ranting about. Here is some more insight into the recesses of my mind. It's a scary place folks, tread lightly.

1. This is all about being honest so here it is, controversial as it may be. I have very strong opinions on homeschooling. I know, I know, I know nothing about it. But here is what I do know: there would have to be a VERY good reason for me to even consider ever homeschooling my boys. First of all, I am no teacher, thinking I could ever be would be ludicrous. I also think that our kids learn and grow so much more if we let them be exposed to other people and other ways of thinking. Our job as parents, in my humbly bias opinion, is to teach them to be independent confident adults who can make solid decisions on their own in the real world. In order to build the necessary skills to achieve that, they need to start small, like with other kids their own age. I have watched my boys already grow and flourish in the public school system and I wouldn't have it any other way.

One of the only reasons that would have me ever consider it is if either of my boys wasn't doing well in the atmosphere that is regular school for whatever reason and after trying several different potential solutions, nothing worked. If there were no other options (private school, Montessori and oh how the whole idea of Montessori makes me itchy) then and only then would I consider taking their schooling into my own hands.

That said, if you home school, I am sure you have a very good reason. These are my reasons and they do not at all reflect on your decisions. xoxoxo

2. I could NEVER give up meat. I love all meat. I am almost very nearly a meatatarian. Protein, how I love you. I like beans too but couldn't use them as my sole source of protein. Have I mentioned Frank's Hot Sauce? Oh how I love thee. Chicken wings slathered in this sauce are very nearly Earl's quality. I was once committed to cutting back our meat intake for environmental reasons, however, when I really think about it, I honestly question if that would solve our problems. If the entire world subsisted on legumes for protein, would the space required to grow that large a quantity really be less than it takes to produce the livestock? Maybe this is just denial because I love me some meat.

3. Germaphobia is an epidemic. Spare me. I just don't have the energy. Here's tip, knowledge is power; obsessing is annoying. We can't live in a bubble. Our immune systems need a bit of boosting and exposing ourselves to everyday dirt is just fine and dandy.

4. UGGS are ugly. The only time I find them reasonably acceptable is when they are worn to the gym in the middle of winter with yoga pants. And on sweet little girls.

I know, I know the comfort, blah, blah, blah. I just really dislike them, comfort or no comfort. I will eat my shorts the day I buy a pair. My theory is that the designer is somewhere in some random country living quite comfortably and laughing at the fact that he started such a ridiculous trend for all us gullible consumers. He's an ass.

5. Skinny jeans. Really? Who designed those hideous buggers? Same ass as above, me thinks. A man is my only conclusion. His signature is all over them. Again, if I ever own a pair, my shorts will be on the menu for dinner. I will even take pictures, I promise.

6. I do not like broccoli. I know I am supposed to like it because it contains no less than 12,000 vitamins and nutrients that will cure cancer and rabies but I just don't like it. I eat it because of the aforementioned vities but like it? Never. I particularly don't like the tops. The florets, whatever the do hickey they are called. The texture makes me gag. I typically only eat the stems, which I am guessing only contain 1/8 of the vitamins and minerals. Murphy is a bitch like that.

7. I honestly loathe when people come to our door pedaling some product, service or religion. Don't call us, we'll call you. M'kay? Thanks. I honestly won't answer my door if I can ensure they don't know I am home. And I NEVER answer the phone if it is a 1-800, 1-866 or any other unknown area code. Same thing applies. And I love the weekly message that I won a trip. Uh huh. Sure I did, and how much do I owe for that "free" trip. Thanks but no thanks.

8. I might be an email addict. If I am not sending and receiving messages and getting blog comments into my inbox, I kind of lose my will to live. That might be a bit dramatic but I really really like it. It's pathetic, I know but I don't have too many vices other than coffee. Mmm, coffee. (I am also easily distracted).

9. I am just not that into blogging anymore. You may have noticed but I suspect you are more likely just a little bit relieved about one less post to read in your reader. I haven't contributed to Canada Moms Blog since early February. And yesterday it was announced that the hosting group, Silicon Valley Moms Group is closing up shop. 5 months ago this would have devastated me, now, I am kind of like, huh, that's too bad now, isn't it? And I have been quiet around here too. I would blame summer and all the sun and sand but it's been raining for 35 days and nights. Our ark is almost complete.

10. Lastly, on a more serious note, I once almost burned my parents' house down. I wasn't a kid either, well not a young one anyway, more of a young, absent minded adult. I left the kettle on the counter top stove and went to work. For hours. Luckily all it did was char the back board of the cupboard. I don't think that I really 'got' the magnitude of how freaking lucky I was until much, much later. My parents still live in that very house and only recently replaced the counter tops. The black spot was there for years reminding me of my awesomeness.

Hopefully you learned something new about me, or wait, better yet, hopefully you actually read this through to the end. If you just looked at the pictures, I am okay with that too.

Bits and Pieces of Nothing*

(I wear glasses all the time because contacts are pretty much like putting concrete directly on my eyeball. I am not into that kind of pain. Every two years, to the day, I get new glasses because that is what our insurance will cover. And by cover I mean pay for part of them. These are very different from my old ones, which is exactly what I was going for. Jay and Jack helped me pick them out.

I was at a photography workshop last week where the instructor noted that some people even use the self timer on their cameras to take photos of themselves.
WHO would do that?)

I watched an episode of Oprah last week, which is very unusual for me, I rarely turn the TV on during day. It 's funny though, because this one was perfect for me. Kismet? Maybe.

The show was about busy families and how disconnected they feel from one another. Peter Walsh, the "expert" had a family take the Strip Down Challenge. The family was required to relinquish all electronics for 7 days.

Basically, the moral of the show is that we feel more disconnected than ever because of our cell phones, lap tops and busy lifestyles. It hit home. Hard.

At one point, Peter said (loosely quoted from memory), "we can sit in a room by ourselves and send and receive 20 emails but we aren't connected".

Ouch.

I am the queen of emailing. My problem is that I am a chatterbox so a phone call will take an hour, an email, 2 min.

The thing is? I AM NOT THAT BUSY.

And if I showed an ounce or two of self control, I could likely cut the phone call down to 20 min or less.

(We were in Moose Jaw, SK this past weekend - yes, that is a real place - and these are the cross walk signs on Main Street. They cracked me up. I am easily amused. Carry on.)

So I am faced with an issue. My work takes place over the Internet. I can easily slip into Facebook to play a couple scrabble moves, read everyone's status updates and maybe update my own. I also can slip into my blog reader and read and comment on a few posts. Before I know it, I have spent the entire morning on the computer. And then the afternoon too. I have worked but I have also wasted (a matter of opinion) time.

If I worked in an office setting, I would be in the same boat, minus FB and blog reading because I, while it's been 6 years (SIX!) since I worked in an office, I am pretty sure it would be frowned upon.

The difference is, I am alone for the mornings and Kamden is often busy doing his own thing in the afternoon. So if I am on the computer working, and interneting (it's not a word but work with me) who I am disconnected from during the day?

No one. BUT.

(5 km walk we did as a family this past weekend. It did not go well. We'll leave it at that. Also? My youngest son appears to have inherited my temper and stubbornness. Oh joy. Also? Notice the cool spot right between Jay and my heads'? What is it? Ghost? Sun spot? Our deep abiding love?)

I do have to consciously make sure to socialize with other people. Thank goodness I have great friends, some of whom work from home like I do. Others I see outside of working hours. Honestly, the only thing I miss about working in an office setting at a "real job", is that social aspect. But there I felt guilty for visiting when I should have been working.

Good gravy.

I just realized there is always something to feel guilty about.

Anywho, my point (if I have one) is that I have to keep things in check. I am like a broken record but again, it's about balance. Family time, friend time, time with my hubby.

It's a good thing I know how to keep things in check so that I am not so busy I am running around trying to keep the balls in the air. Because being busy, is a choice. My choice is to keep things manageable.

I am pretty sure I will never regret that.

(*Would you expect any less?)

A Weekend of Celebrations

I had this post all ready to go last Friday, I was just waiting until the boys got home from school for a (not so) improptu photo shoot. However, when I sat down to post it later that night I found the sweet words that Jay had written instead. Am I lucky, or am I lucky? I thank God every day for bringing him to me.

May 7th, 2010 marked my 36th year here on Earth. It's been a ride full of joy, laughter, love and a few tears.

Every year is a blessing. This year, I am not hung up on the number in the sense of, oh my heavens I am getting old. Rather, I think being healthy and happy for 36 years is a gift that I must cherish. It could change in a heartbeat.

May 8th, 2010 marked 11 years of wedded bliss with my one and only. Another beautiful ride that I hope won't end for decades. Lots of them.

To Jay, walking beside you is where I am meant to be. It's been a privaledge to be your wife for the last 11 years. Thank you for so many things, more than I could ever put adequately into words.

May 9th, 2010 marked my 9th Mother's day as a mommy. To say that I am blessed to have the title "Mommy" or "Mom" as it is, in time bound to become, is an understatement.

And my Mom celebrated (we hope!) her 40th year as a mother. She has the grey hair to prove it. Naturally, I blame my brother for most of it but those three on her left temple are all my fault - age 16 - 20, need I say more?

Mom, thank you. You have been there for me, always. You have encouraged, supported, pushed, disciplined, and stepped back and let me fall when you felt it right. I am blessed to call you Mom.

There was much to celebrate. I am blessed beyond measure.

Some time ago

Sometime ago (it is not proper to reveal a woman’s age right?) a little girl was brought into this world. I was a four year old boy getting into trouble but I distinctly remember pausing for a brief second. It felt like there was a major disturbance in the force. (oh Star Wars had not come out yet. I guess that may give away her age oops. I shrugged it off and went back to playing with my GI Joe doll or was it Capt. Kirk? Who am I kidding it was probably Lt Uhura. I did have a way with the ladies. The girl dolls were just attracted to me what can I say. They thought I was a righteous dude.

19 years later our paths crossed and life has never been the same since. At that time she was a shy teenager but over the last 17 years she has become an incredible mother to 2 wonderful boys, a loving wife, a devote supporter but above all truly my best friend.

It is not an easy life to be surrounded by males. Sometimes your buttons get pushed to the limit but always remember that you are and always will be our number 1 girl.

I am not one who is good with words so I will take an excerpt from Ms Shania Twain instead and her song you got a way.

You've got a way with me
Somehow you got me to believe
In everything that I could be
I've gotta say-you really got a way
You've got a way it seems
You gave me faith to find my dreams
You'll never know just what that means
Can't you see... you got a way with me

You've got a way with words
You get me smiling even when it hurts
There's no way to measure what your love is worth
I can't believe the way you get through to me

Oh, how I adore you
Like no one before you
I love you just the way you are

This is your weekend, Happy Birthday, Happy 17th Anniversary and a very happy Mother’s day. You are life and we love you.

The boys.

PS: It is time to change your password.

Again, With the Random

So I have no post material. No ideas. Even less motivation. But here I am trying to post. I lost my mojo. I am blaming the lack of comments. It can't possibly be my fault. How could it?

I used to regularly get around 20 comments per post. TWENTY. Now, if I get ten I am rocking it. I wonder why no one likes me anymore but this shouldn't be a pity party, who wants to read that?

The lack of dinging in my email has me here, rambling about nothing. Frankly I am boring myself by this point. Enough about that except I must first give a big shout out to my peeps (how lame do I sound trying to be all cool? Yes, pretty lame.) who regularly or irregularly comment. I greatly appreciate it. M'wah, giant air kiss and hug!

On to bigger and more annoying things. Like the fact that my thyroid has decided to start underpeforming. All kinds of awesome. It's still normal but it's dropped and because my body already annihilated my ovaries, it's pretty safe to assume it's now targeting my thyroid. I don't really need my ovaries but my thyroid is kind of nice, you know?

Don't worry, I got over my funk about that pretty quick. In the grand scheme of things, it's no big deal but it's still a bit hard to hear that your own body is kind of letting you down. At least, it is for me.

Speaking of my ovaries (really, were we? no wonder I don't post anymore) I came to realize that I really am at peace with my life. I feel fulfilled by my career, my fitness commitment and most importantly by my family. My boys are so much fun and don't "need" me like they once did. Once you come out the other side you can find yourself again and you didn't even realize you were missing. My identity has become mine again. It's not just Jack and Kamden's mom but it's Kami, who is many things, one of which is Jack and Kamden's mom. That might sound a bit selfish but I'll be honest, I don't honestly believe solely being a mother can be completely fulfilling to anyone. It's like all things, it requires a balance. I feel like right now, all the balls are in the air and I've got things under control. Dear Murphy, ignore me, there is nothing you need to see here. Move along. Thanks.

Stay tuned. Maybe I'll get my mojo back for blogging or at least keep posting random photos with words that say nothing. How can you resist?

Trouble Comes in Small Packages

If you have been reading my rants here for a bit, you know about my love hate relationship with coffee (I have, on more than on occasion, snuck it into a movie theatre). I did a post about it sometime but I have no patience to scroll through old posts, does anyone actually click on them and read them, anyway? That's what I thought.

Anyway, the love hate relationship causes me to go from drinking it daily to swearing of it forever. I usually last about a week if I am really serious. The problem is that the caffeine and even decaf makes the symptoms of menopause much, much worse. And if you have been reading here for a bit you will also recall that despite the fact that I am not quite 36, I am indeed suffering from hot flashes, night sweats, mood swings and sleep disruption. It is as awesome as it sounds.

So at 5am this morning when I woke up sweating like a hog, I swore I would not drink a drop of the stuff EVER again.

Then later today when I got a call telling me I had won a raffle, I thought maybe it was a sign.

That maybe, giving it up FOREVER, was a bit harsh.

Afterall, this coffee has Ganoderma extract in it. Of course, this makes it extremly healthy such that the extract counter acts all the negative aspects of caffiene - or so they claim.

It's like giving crack to an addict or a beacon from heaven. I'll keep you posted.

Jessica, my first baby

This is going to be a hard post for me to write and a hard post for my parents to read. Bear with me.

This sweet girl is my first baby. When I was 15, my parents finally let me get my very own kitten. We had a cat, named Kitty Kat (my brother was a toddler when he named her) but she was aloof and not much fun. When she finally passed away at the ripe old age of 16, my parents finally relented after years of pestering from me.

Mom and I went to a pet store that had two kittens, sisters. One was a bright, beautiful calico and one was a blond tabby. Why I don't know but my mom left the decision of which to pick up to me. I almost picked the tabby. But the calico did a crazy sideways run with her little butt in the air and I had to pick her (I think there is a picture of her doing it while attacking a plastic shopping bag but it's somewhere at my parent's). The girl had spunk!

I named her Jessie. It had nothing to do with Full House and John Stamos, I swear. Okay, okay so that is where I got the name but it was more that I just loved the name than anything. Honest. There were no posters of him in my room, those were of INXS.

She was my baby. She slept on the pillow beside mine up until I left home to go to University. She sat on my desk and tried to eat my pencil when I did my homework. She would come running when I ate anything sweet. Her sweet tooth rivaled mine and I don't know if it was nature or nurture. She would even eat fruit roll ups. I know, I know, pet abuse! Frankly what in the world was I doing eating them. Yuck.

After I moved out, I did try to bring her to live with us a couple of times but she was never very happy. Nor was I. I am, quite frankly, highly allergic to cats. Somehow, while I lived in the same house as two cats, I was okay. Not perfect mind you, my nose always ran like crazy first thing in the morning. But once I left there was no going back. Coupled with the fact that she just didn't seem herself and there were no pets allowed where we were living, her permanent home remained with my parents.

My parents, who have now had to make the heart wrenching decision to put down four animals. First there was Max, our huge lovable goof ball. The first dog our family ever had. He was put down a mere month before my Jack came along. That was really hard for me. I wanted my kids to know my big doofus. They do, but only from pictures. His personality, in a nutshell was that he couldn't hurt a fly. He did once accidentally kill a mouse though. He stepped on it without realizing it. That was him. Lovable. Huge. Goofy. Handsome.

Then Zoe, our other cat, had to be put down - I have no picture for some reason. This was sometime around Kamden's second birthday in 2006. Poor guy had suffered from diabetes for years already and his time had finally come. Or rather, my parents had to make the decision that enough was enough.

Then a mere two years later, Kricket, our other dog, had to go for health reasons as well.

Then this weekend, the last in our foursome had to go. Mom and Dad came home to find Jessie barely able to walk. They knew it was time. She had, up until a year or so ago, been as healthy as you please. Then, as is expected in a cat that was about 20 years old, her kidneys began to fail.

Four pets. Four times a terribly heart wrenching decision.

Mom and Dad, thank you for everything. You took care of all of them and all we did was love them. You have done the hardest parts and for that we are so grateful.

And baby girl, someday you will purr on my lap again while I rub your chin like you loved so much. I really wished I would have rubbed you just one more time last month. Had I only known it would it be the last time.

Rest in peace Princess and say Hi to Max, Zoe and Kricket too, will ya? Boss them around like you always did, they have likely missed it.