Naked

Broken....

A year ago I felt like I was too broken to be fixed; like no one could put me back together again; like no one wanted to be bothered to even try. It’s a sad, scary place to be... almost as bad as the hospital.

Bell Let’s Talk Day.....  I watched Canada AM’s coverage and when I heard Michael Landsberg talking it was like he had walked in my skin, read into my soul and just knew...  The stigma is scary... I think it’s part of the reason I’m maybe not so forth coming about that part of my life.  No one really wants to walk around in this life wearing a great big ol’ sign pointing out something about yourself that is not so widely understood and immediately sets you up for scrutiny and misinterpretation. “So what did you do today?” is actually a really uncomfortable question somedays... I mean it’s difficult for some people to understand that  even though you slept 8 hrs the night before, and will likely sleep 8 hrs that night, you still slept a good portion of the day away, because your body just finds it easier to shut down than deal with how bad you feel, or that this was like the fourth of fifth day in a row that you didn’t leave the house (quite comfortably) because your comfort level/anxiety level wouldn’t let you. That there are days you cannot handle crowds, noise, going out in public, making decisions or even seeing or talking to people you’ve known all your life.  That a text message is far easier than a phone call; an email or FB message can be handled easier than a face to face.  If you haven’t lived it, you really don’t get it, no matter your best intentions.

I don’t remember the last time I felt “normal” whatever that is. I don’t remember the last time I truly felt like me.  I’ve been doing some bookwork for a friend and lots of cooking (definitely not cooking any books though!) and it is likely the closest I’ve felt in a while.  I miss my job, surprisingly enough – at least to those who know how hard it was some days.  To me, I’m not surprised, because I felt like I fit there.  I loved my co-workers, I loved what I did and I loved the daily challenges and the accomplishments of hard work.  I loved solving problems and I loved feeling like I contributed to the greater good.  Sadly, they must not have felt the same, or else.... well, no point in what if’s right?

So..... gastric bypass surgery.... I’m inching my weigh (yes, sooo pun intended) up to the 70lb mark.  It has slowed down seriously since Christmas though.  It’s not that I’m not extremely grateful for the loss so far,  although I now need to do some serious shopping for underwear and bras..... I can hold out on actual clothing for the most part.  What I need now is to motivate myself to working out more and with better habituality (yeah, I know, not a real word... it’s a me-ism)  10 (yes, they are now each a year older, so the girls are now to be known as 17 and 10) is super excited at the idea of me bouncing on the trampoline with her this summer, and riding bikes and lots of other fun stuff. And I’m kind of excited at the prospect of dress shopping for Tooth Fairy’s son’s wedding ( I cannot believe he is getting married, I still remember him as a little ball of mischief, and crying when he was off to university.  His fiancée is such a super sweet guy, I loved him right away and I don’t think either of them realize how much it means to me that my girls, Big Daddy and I were immediately on their “family” list for the wedding.  I teared up, though many people know that isn’t a huge challenge, but it does mean something) and for a dress for 17’s graduation..... oh gosh I cannot believe she is graduating already...my baby.... and oh how beautiful is her prom dress.  Part of me, and I know it’s so lame, but part of me really wants to look good for her graduation; I’ve heard the talk of some of her friends through the years, wondering why her mom was so fat... I hate the thought of embarrassing my children, though I know they love me..

Family is a four letter word.....

The proverbial “they” in all their worldly wisdom have been know to say, “you can’t choose your family”.  I’m sure it was many, many years ago that “they” decided this was the case, but in this day and age we are all aware that is not “exactly true”.

You choose your mate, you choose when and if to have children and you choose whether to keep mate or child.   I myself was a child given up for adoption.  I spent time in foster care before being adopted, chosen, at age of 2.  The family was older; there were already 4 children, all considerably older than I was.  Rumours of why the family adopted me swirled; another try at raising a better child, adding a girl to a predominantly male family and some less seemly. These are things I’ll get more into later.

My being adopted was never a secret.  I knew the word from day one in my new home.  From what I was told, when the father asked if I wanted to come home with them and put his hand out to me, I took it fearlessly and went off with them, with all the innocent trust of a child, taking with me my blanket, my bear and only a couple of other cherished toys.

There are very few photos of me as a toddler, and absolutely none as a baby. I miss those as I watched my own children go through those stages, desperately looking for the similarities, having myself grown up without any “family” resemblances at all.  What a happy day it was the first time I heard how much one of my own babies looked like me.

My adoption seemed to be a good enough reason for parties in my new home; and for new family portraits.  A big church christening was my welcome into the church community.  Lots of “aunts and uncles” to be met and passed around to, and of course, the dreaded kiss so-and-so goodnight before heading to bed.  So innocent to the future to come and so unaware of the pain to be suffered and the repeated feelings of abandonment. 

Oh my dear “they”... family can so be chosen. And un-chosen.

I've come to realize that blood doesn't necessarily make for a close bond.  Neither does a shared name. Truth be told, I have a much closer feeling of "family" to my very good friends the Tooth Fairy, Design Diva, Pie Man and his wife and a few others than with those who claim to be my family by either blood or contract.  (no, not meaning Big Daddy....he's one of the reasons I got through this year)

Family has always played a big role in my life.  I've always felt like I needed the closeness and craved the acceptance.  Sadly, until I choose my own family, it was never forthcoming.

So, precious, fictitious and fabled "they".....  you most certainly CAN choose your family....and it has made all the difference in the world.

today's ramblings

So, it's 8 days to my surgery.... and I had myself a little (ok, maybe not so little) cry today.  I do NOT cry pretty either..... but honestly, does anyone?  How can blotchy, drippy, runny and sniffly be considered pretty?  Not really sure what the cry was totally about.... maybe the onset of my period, maybe the sad movie I was watching, maybe anxiety about everything going on right now, the healthy respect I have for the magnitude of the surgery, or possibly the little  voice in the back of my head that tells me I suck at family or that I am likely to continue to fail.

I've been trying my damnedest to make the liquid protein meal replacements tolerable.  I add coffee, ice cubes, various flavours of Crystal Light to the chocolate and vanilla powder.  I am biding my time until I'm on full fluid the second day after surgery so that I can have cream of wheat...

Do you ever sit and contemplate previous decisions?  Do you go over and over them in your mind and wonder "am I doing the right thing" or "am I just being stubborn and selfish"?  I can't help myself sometimes wondering if I'm depriving my girls by turning away from my family.  I tell myself that those people aren't healthy for me, lord knows that Big Daddy has been telling me this for decades now.  I think he had made up his mind about them back when we were in our very early 20's after a particularly nasty incident between my father and I.  Big Daddy decided he was not leaving me alone and at risk, so he bunked down for the night on the sofa in my room (it was a very big room) and made sure I was safe.  To this day, no matter if we are disagreeing or not, he always has that passionate protective thing, and it makes me feel safe.  I have the same protective feeling towards my girls.  No one, and I do mean no one messes with my girls unless they want to deal with my momma lion side.

So in further preparation for the changes to come I cut my hair....short.  I need it easy to deal with post op because I'll have far more important things to have to.  Plus if the predicted hair loss happens I would hope it would be easier managed with short hair than long (ok, and less noticeable for the little bit of vanity I will confess to).

16 wanted to hit the Tommy Hilfiger outlet store on Saturday.  I actually bought a polo shirt dress. It's a bit snug, but I'm hoping that it will be less tight for next week's trip to Toronto. Of course the one 16 purchased looks sooo much better on her and her beautiful figure.  I thought I'd wear it while we spend the day before surgery in downtown Toronto and at our beautiful hotel that my good friend Detective D has booked us into.  She's going to keep an eye out on the girls until Big Daddy gets back the day after my surgery.

My father in law has been going through some health issues as of late.  It worries me because I hate the thought of potentially loosing yet another father. He has had a few medical procedures, suffers almost constant pain and has continuous infections.  Many people, when they meet my father in law or have known him, often see his stern, logical, ex military side.  I admit, I often find him daunting myself, but I've seen another side of him.  When I was in the hospital, and having a particularly bad day, he was there.  He held me and let me cry, silently comforting me in that strong "dad" way.  He does lots of little things that he doesn't have to do, but he just does.  I'm not ready to part with him anytime soon.  It's kind of funny how some people become important and necessary parts of our lives, even if it's just the little things.... maybe the little things are what count the most.

Sometimes there's so much going on it's hard to pick a title...

So much going on and never even nearly enough time (or energy) to deal with it.

August 16..... I've got the date for my surgery at long last.  Almost 4 years of research, 18 months on the waiting list and now everything seems to be going at warp speed. I have my moments of "Oh my Heck" but I think it comes from a healthy respect for the enormous nature of the surgery and the lifestyle change to follow.  I'm all about the label reading now.  Did you know how much sugar there is in a cup of milk???  Even skim milk!!  It's redonculous!  Same with organic, non sweetened apple sauce.  I can have the lite baby bell cheese, sugar free Kozy Shak rice pudding, but not the sugar free Carnation Instant Breakfast...(how can it be called sugar free with all that sugar in it????? )  Every time I'm at the grocery store or pharmacy I "window shop" to see what foods I can have just to make sure I don't feel cheated.

I've started a binder.... kind of my surgery bible.  I have all the handouts from the classes, nutritional info, lists of protein powder and supplement options, sample menus for all the various phases and a power of attorney packet.  I guess I feel that the more info I have, the better prepared I shall be.

Of course I'm not the only one going through stuff.  16 is smack in the middle of her finals... and obsessing totally.  She's busy calculating a guesstimate of what her average will be, will it be high enough for her first or second choice university  Meanwhile, she is also convincing herself that she can do her fall back, be a paramedic,  because of all her swim and first aid training.  And the most fun lately has been hearing  how even with all her training she doesn't like to swim, not at all.  Did I mention she teaches swimming to children?  That she has all the certifications needed to be a lifeguard ?  Yes, 16 will always be my contrary child.

And then there is 9...my baby and likely my largest source of worry.  We've recently had one of her meds changed for her ADHD and so far so good.  Poor baby has had a blow to her self esteem due to the weight gain factor of one of her previous pills.  She tries on clothes and they don't fit and we've had to invest  in crop tops for her to wear under all her shirts.  Boobies at 9 yrs of age...I was so NOT prepared for that. I don't think she was either.

She had her year end piano recital, which went off without a hitch, is all signed  up for her summer camps and is now the proud owner of a shiny new pair of CRUTCHES!  A slight mishap on the trampoline has resulted to a fracture in her baby toe and lots of bruising, swelling and inability to bear weight on that foot.  So, needless to say, no soccer today and a rock solid excuse to get her out of most of her chores. The whole time we were at the peds out patient clinic her biggest fear was would she have to get a needle??  It didn't seem to stop her much, she was anxiously counting down until her friend came home across the street.  Had to laugh my ass off though when she stood up at one point in the evening and "forgot" about her crutches...at least until I looked at her as if she was nuts and the pain hit.  Hopefully  once is all it will take, but how exactly do you explain it to a sleep walker??  She is known for sitting up in bed at any given time, having conversations and wandering.  I think that's part of why I sleep so badly; someone has to be conscious to ensure everyone is safe.

Ah well, I'm tired, and tomorrow looks like it's going to be a super busy housework kind of day.

Ramblings and thoughts and things to come, with a side of funny things my kids have done !

So, I've been thinking about my breasts quite a bit as of late. It's not what you think...last Friday I was at a class for my Gastric Bypass surgery and they were going much farther into depth about specifics than at the previous class.  Then I was watching  Oprah and she had Star Jones on talking about her surgery and the subsequent weight loss and she happened to mention her breasts drooping...well she said they were like pancakes actually, so she treated herself to a boob lift. Well, Big Daddy was in the room and he actually mentioned it the other day; said it might be something worth considering after the fact.  I may have failed to mention Big Daddy is a breast man....  haha

The class covered the pre op liquid diet and colour me surprised to find that there are 5 vegetables that you can have while on this liquid diet ( I mean, they call it a liquid diet right?? To allow vegetables should then change the name to liquid and these 5 vegetables diet don't ya think??)  Any way you get 2 cups a day of these mostly water vegetables which I think sounds way better than just drinking this mixed review tasting Opti Fast stuff.  The class also covered the diet stages post op, and honestly, I feel I can do it.  I drink lots of water anyway and I have recently discovered that naked tea (tea without milk and stuff in it) isn't too bad afterall.  And decaf to boot!  I add a slice of lemon and maybe some lime and it's quite nice.  I've also been practicing the slow sip method when I drink water as opposed to chugging the entire bottle without taking a breath.  That is one of the lifestyle changes that I will need to make post surgery.  Right along with chewing the begeezus out of every tiny bite I put into my mouth and watching out that nothing I consume has too much fat or sugar in it (Google dumping syndrome, it's not a pretty thought).  I'm not saying it won't be tough...it will be, and I won't say I'm not scared, because I am, but the thought of being healthy again and getting off some of the meds and being able to say yes when 9 wants me to play on the trampoline is what gives me the strength to say "I think I can".

So 9 has found a new friend which is absolutely great as far as I'm concerned.  Some of the kids in the neighbourhood, well let's just say they don't play nicely and find all sorts of reasons to pick on 9.  16 gets really upset and told me today she could punch this one kid for the way he treats 9.  I have to laugh because the relationship my girls have is that they can pick on each other and drive each other crazy, but no one else can.  It makes me feel so good that they are this close even with the difference in age. 9 will benefit from having an older sister.  And having someone who has her back with all this ADHD stuff is a good thing.  The new friend is sleeping over on Friday night...I swear I didnt' think 9 would fall asleep tonight, she's so happy about the sleepover.  She was telling me a bunch of jokes, she always loved knock knock jokes.  Where do cows go on their nights out?  The moovies!

16 16 16....where to begin  on16.  I took her to the family doctor a couple of weeks ago because she's been experiencing dizziness upon standing and of course there is the business of her "fakeatarianism" too.  They discovered her iron is low, so they advised a supplement and a visit to a dietitian.  I was hoping the dietitian would help for food choices, but it didn't seem to.  She gave 16 sheets on how to get enough iron.  She spoiled me rotten for my birthday/mother's day by buying me a Pandora bracelet and a charm for it.  I still can't believe it.  And of course right now she's busy with exam prep and has her summer job all lined up.  This kid is going to work a full 40 hour work week as a head councillor for daycamp, work on the weekends teaching swimming (she's hoping) and doing her grade 12 English on line so that she can take an extra science credit next year.  If she didn't look so much like me I might almost think a DNA test would be in order to see who created this energizer bunny teenager.  She has completed her NLS course, both her bronzes, her water safety courses, first aid and all that stuff and what does she say to her father and I???  "I don't really like swimming...at all".   We laughed our asses off!!  I can't wait for Pie Man's wife to find out!

On a note of relief, those horrible neighbours from downstairs next door are gone!!  I actually just sighed in relief.  No more loud backyard gatherings, pot smoking or worse yet, constant stream of traffic of people who barely stay 10 minutes (not that I am saying for certain they were distributing, but if it sounds, looks and smells like a duck....) and park there cars on my grass.  Here's hoping for quieter neighbours who don't collect beer cans by the dozens in a wheelbarrow and smoke (various things) under my bedroom window.

I will be so glad when the city reopens the sports fields; 9 is signed up for soccer and is anxious to get the games going. Personally I think she will have a future in rugby.

Ran into someone from work today while we were out picking up a few grocery items. It reminded me how much I miss doing my job and the people I worked with.  Even Mr.VP....on his good days anyway.  But I don't think I'm at that point yet....not quite.

So, big garage sale this weekend....9 decided that all monies raised will go to charity.  Big Daddy thinks I am making this more than it is and doubts I have  much to sell.  Little does he know what I have to sell, and I can't let 9 down.  We may not make much, but I'm sure every contribution is good.  And it helps with my "decluttering" therapy.  Did you know that as well as making space, studies have found (so I've read) that decluttering is also meditative and calming.... though, that may just be some crap some neat freak has come up with to make those of us who tend to be messy feel guilty......  ;)

April Showers bring....May Showers. Enough Already!

So yes, I'm back.  I guess the weather and my mental state of mind just kept me kinda quiet and to myself.  I was reminded by a friend that I hadn't blogged in a while, which kind of gave me the "get off your funk" nudge I may have needed.

We had a ladies' night a couple of weeks ago at Design Diva's house with a French theme.  I made creme brule and as usual she made so much amazing food.  Her friend Future Somolier brought so many amazing wines it was crazy.  So we all drank and ate and I think I got to a point where I couldn't possibly fit anything else into my mouth and not be physically ill from fullness.  Design Diva's home is one of my MOST favorite places on earth. I feel happy and comfortable and no stress... it's really so great to have a place that feels that way to go to from time to time.

So Easter was nice.  We had a family dinner at the Tooth Fairy's place  and her son Whipped Cream Boy and his friend the Government Employee were visiting from Ottawa.  Her's is another place I feel real comfortable at.  On Sunday we did brunch with Big Daddy's folks after the girls did their egg hunt at home.  Then I made a quiet dinner for us at home.  I used a recipe I love for scalloped potatoes that  use both white and sweet potatoes..its very good.  And I used some amazing maple syrup that was gifted to us at Christmas by my Crazy Auntie.

When the hell is this rain going to end??  Never mind the rising water levels, but I'm cold and damp and it's paining my body beyond my limits.  I have things I want to do, but I'm pain restricted.  I hate feeling this old when I'm really not that old.  Speaking of that, stupid birthday is creeping up.  Just another day and fewer people in my life.  Yes, it was my choice, but I guess on some level I had a hope that blood wasn't the only thing that made family. Oh well....I have enough crazy in my life anyway, so I don't really need more do I?

So yesterday I made the trek to Toronto.... first of many for checking me out and getting information on gastric bypass surgery.  There, I said it out loud (ok, well wrote it out loud).  Over a year ago my doctor recommended me for the surgery because I have tried everything else...commercial, medical and the downright silly. Those who really know me know about my thyroid issues. My metabolism is shot and I hate feeling the eyes of strangers watch me when I eat as if they are going to see me ingest have a buffet on my own. Or knowing when I walk into certain stores that the clerks are thinking they have absolutely nothing that will fit me.  Most of all, I want to be healthy.  I want to see my girls graduate, I want to see them marry and I want to be a gramma.  I've done my research, I've read up on the procedure and there are a couple of blogs I read of people who have been through it, and not just the  good side.  I want this.

Well, maybe if the clouds part I can start working the garden a little...

Mystical Universe Riddles

So today started out well enough..... I woke up, and there were no grey hairs (none that had come uncoloured anyway), I didn't fall down and hurt myself (or stand up and hurt myself as many of you know I am actually prone to) and basically I felt pretty good.  So I decided to fold laundry and pile it up for everyone to put away.  And with the intention to follow medical advice of not overdoing (such as I had on the weekend and paid for dearly) I proceeded 1 basket at a time, watching old Harry Potter movies as I did.

I really did start out with the best of intentions....but we know what is said of the best of intentions.  And so mine did (go straight to hell) with every passing of the open doorway to 16's room. Why, oh why is  it that a teenager must have a bedroom floor obliterated by piles upon piles of clothing??  Why must there always be empty cans and bottles, dirty dishes and such?  Why must the bed be in a constant state of unmadeness?  Why do I  always expect the next time to be different; that it will remain clean and tidy, the clean clothes making it to their rightful place and the dirty ones being put in for washing?

And so, feeling  that I would not be a dutiful mother if I didn't do my utmost to assist my daughter who is soooo busy with school, part time job and lifeguard training? So in I bravely go, where it clearly looks as if no mother has ever gone before, armed with empty laundry baskets and a bundle of hangers and a desire to do a good deed.  I place all her precious to be hung items on hangers and lay them on the space I have cleared on her bed ( I'm not a saint, I won't do everything for her, she can damned well hang them up n'est ce pas?), I pick up the empty bottles and can and place them in one of the couple of dozen different shopping bags from any of the numerous stores she likes to frequent, and I begin the arduous task of gathering up the dirty(may not have started dirty but as soon as she dumped them on the floor who is to say).  Several baskets later and I could see the floor.  Yipeee!

I would love to say that she was speechless with gratitude, that she was wrought with worry that I had over done it, that I had caused myself terrible pain to my body with all of the bending and scooping and lifting.  I would really love to say that..... but sadly that was not the case.  Apparently, in the perfect world of a teenager, good mothers suffer in silence, and don't loose sleep over trifles such as messy rooms and dirty laundry.

Did any one else know that a chore schedule, cute stickers and rewards would actually get chores done???  It is absolutely amazing.....except of course it doesn't extend as far as bedrooms.

And seriously.......where do the socks go??