birthdays.....

ah yes....the inenvitable birthday....that day that comes every year to remind you that 1. you didn't die this year, and 2. you will never be as young as you were yesterday....

but I'm not depresssed about it......

Okay...I am, but not for the obvious reasons. I actually don't mind being older; you could not pay me enough money to be a kid, tennager or young adult again. It was hard enough the first time around. I get depressed on my birthday because every year, I get some useless bullshit gift from family that always makes me want to ask them, "Um...excuse me.....have we met?"

The year I turned 30 SHOULD have been a fairly monumental birthday.....I was pregnant with my daughter (7 months pregnant to be exact)and thought that my family would actually recognize how significant those two things were.....

and my parents bought me an exercise ball....

This year, they gave me an i-Pod touch. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Except when do I as a mother, a wife, a nurse on shift work and friend EVER have the time to spend with headphones on, listening to music? And furthermore....I have a blackberry!!! It does all the same shit; and now I have 2 expensive gadgets I never have the time to use......

the hints at snow tires went completely unheaded.....my friend Erin says I am too practical.....the irony is; the snow tires were cheaper...

Paul thinks I am nuts....and now wants to take back presents he gave me; he is worried I will hate them....he is probably right....

This is what I don't understand.....I don't think I am that hard to figure out. I like books, I like yoga, I like my jaccuzi tub....really; you can go to Chapters, lulu lemon and Lush and make my flippin' day.....

the irony is...tomorrow it will be all over......

30 pieces of sliver....

I hate the expression, "you did the right thing...." People who say this to you usually have asked you to do something that seems very morally or ethically tricky; and you end up wanitng to just kick them in the teeth for asking you to do this anyways....and you end up feeling like you've just earned your 30 pieces of silver.....

I am one of those rare people who likes what they do and likes who they work for...(I know, you can slap me later) so when I am caught in office politics, it hits me hard in the stomach. I am actually of the belief structure that we should all just get along, because at the end of the day, 1. it's just work, and 2. we spend more of out lives with our coworkers than our families, so we should find one another's best qualities to hone in on.

Being asked to choose sides sucks, but it sucks more when choosing sides really inflicts damange. And you know that damage is going to completely blindside someone else. It's a double edged sword. First the person is going to completely taken aback by a surprise attack, then is going to be even more shocked that the attack is coming their own team. Those are the kinds of wounds that don't heal.

The bottom line is, I feel like a traitor; I have always been someone who shoots their mouth off before speaking; and have had to sit in the hot seat for it, more than once in my life. For those of you who have never had this experience, count yourself lucky. It's awful. I know we should all be held accountable for our behaviours and actions; and there really is character building in that excercise, but it's sort of like drinking to much. You know the cost will be heavy, but you can't help but think, "maybe this time it won't be so bad...." You should know better and learn your lesson the first time...but for some reason, you just keep going back.

Everything sucks right now.....

This is becoming one of the most trying weeks of my life.....

My grandmother passed away and I returned home to the land of Southwestern Ontario to say my good byes and help support my family. I have watched these women; my mother, and my aunts; three great women, damn near fight one another to the death over a will that my grandmother left. So many twisted family dynamics are emerging that I cannot even begin to cope with all of it....

I got to hang out with my amazing cousins tho.....and they are awesome. Got to watch my mom and aunt damn near verbally destroy one another.....not so awesome.....got to learn that the amazing grandmother I knew was not the awesome mom my mom and middle aunt knew....even worse still. Found out that family secrets can destroy a family....worst one yet. I hate this....I literally feel like a part of my soul is caving in on itself....all I want to do is come home and crawl into bed and not come out till this is all over....

The last lecture cont'd......

6. And what wisdom would I choose to impart to the world if it was my last chance?
7. What are the lessons of my own life?

To be honest, I would love to write about some rosy, sunshiney, but valuable lessons I have learned here, but, hey, let's face it; this is real life; and sometimes, it really sucks. The life lessons are hard, and they can really bite us in the ass if we do not pay close attention to the cues we are being sent. But here are my thoughts, two cents, bits of wisdom; if you will.

1. If you don't like what you see; hold up the mirror.

Man, our own flaws are tricky to see; let alone change. That takes real work and dedication. And identifying those flaws is only half the battle. That's like having a hot tub with cold water. It doesn't matter how pretty the package is; ain't no one goin' in there. I often catch myself saying, "I'm a control freak, that's just who I am." The truth of the matter is, it's easier to admit this flaw than change it. Trust me, it has deep resounding effects on my relationships. There are times Paul is the biggest piece of shit in the world, solely because he will not do what I want, act the way I want, think they way I want, or do any of the things to keep my controlled world functioning at status quo. The irony is; I think this is what I found so attractive about him. He doesn't function that way. I have come to realize that I am deeply envious of this...he doesn't suffer from migraines and heartburn; and can actually fall asleep without the tv on. He can allow his mind to shut the hell up. You have no idea how much this pisses me off. Even my yoga instructor noticed in a group of 30 people that I have the "busy mind." (This is where the control freak in me wanted to tell her to f*&k off and tell her to shove her fifth aura into her third eye). But all of it is true. I am a control freak who needs constant external stimulation and gets very defensive about it. I have a lot of trouble just being. I am beginning to think that perhaps I don't like me as much as I should. I should get comfortable in my own skin, with my own company, and be content with myself; since I am in this; with me, for the long haul.


2. Don't lie about who you are and what you want.

A famous former Playmate said on Oprah recently that all women are master manipulators. (Trust me, my hackles went up first hearing this; and again, even quoting it makes me shudder). But, alas, it is true. We will make stupid statements to men we like such as , "Oh yeah, I like hockey!" When in fact, we cannot stand the game. Or, "oh I love beer and wings!" when the thought makes us gag. All these little white lies we tell people we want to be close to, only lead to confusion and hurt feelings a year later when they look at confused and hurt, "But I thought you'd want to watch six hours of hockey with a Coors Light and 2lbs of suicide wings..." and we call them an insensitive bastard for not knowing we would rather go to yoga class and a pumpkin festival. I am a master manipulator. And it has done absolutely nothing to help me in my life in any way. NEVER do this. Be honest about who you are and what you like up front. It saves a lot of headaches down the road.

The Gospel according to Luke.....

Please my very few readers...keep in mind; I am VERY new to this whole "studying the Bible thing," so bear with me as I grossly paraphrase and copycat my awesome pastor who talked about this today....

In the time of King Herod (which was about 50 BCE, give or take a few years), there was a Priest named Zechariah; a kind man, who was married to an older woman, named Elizabeth. They lived their wives according to Moses' Laws, righteously under God. This meant they were really good people who always gave to those in need, thanked those who helped them; and basically tried to make their world a better place. In Israel at that time; this would be MUCH more difficult than one can really imagine now. This couple however, was unable to bear a child.

In today's society, this couple would be seen as a "good couple" who likely chose for their own personal reasons to not force the child issue; and would likely be revered as older people who perhaps had chosen their careers over family. This would be amplified by their "older" ages (we're not sure what that is, but I digress. Also a priest or pastor would also be revered in some circles out our society (at least, in theory).

Fifty years before the coming of Christ however, this was not a revered couple. In that geographical area, there were likely 20 000 priests; hardly making the job "special." Being older would have made this couple more at risk for theft and assault; also they would be more vulnerable to simple day-to-day living in a time of no electricity, hot running water, gas heat or plumbing. And being barren; well, it didn't get much worse for women at that time to barren. It was one step above a whore.

One day, Zechariah gets called up by lottery to go to the Temple and work. Now keep in mind this is really REALLY big deal. HUGE. Not only was the Temple the Mecca of the Earth; it was believed that God Himself resided in it. It was a Holy place, on Holy land, with the Holy Spirit's presence within it. It meant actually being in the presence of God. "Now at the time of the incense offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside." Luke 1:10. So here is this guy; completely alone in the presence of God.....

It is relatively obvious that he asks for a son; and the farther you read, you discover that Elizabeth conceives and gives birth to a son, John. But he's not any regular John....he's John the Baptist....kind of a big deal.

My question to you is; if you were alone with God; completely alone with God...what would YOU ask??

How do I raise a child to be good and honest and caring and considerate of others in a world so focused on monetary gain and gross consumption?

What can we all do at a grassroots level to show the world what living in peace and harmony would really be like?

What is my purpose? How do I fulfill it? Am I missing my window?

How do I be a better partner, mother, daughter, sister and friend?

Why is even contemplating this list of questions so difficult?

As Christians, just how far "off the mark" are we?

Quotes I need this week.......

"People with integrity are easy to spot because they stand upright."

"Be the change you wish to see."

“Any change, even a change for the better, is always accompanied by drawbacks and discomforts.”

"If you limit your choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want, and all that is left is a compromise."

....and if I ever need more inspiration to embrace the changes that are happening....there she is......

The last Lecture continued.....

4. What were the dreams my parents had and how did they fulfill them?

5. Who are mentors I can turn to? What lessons have they taught me?


I am sure my parents had similar dreams that all parents do: to have a better life than their parents and for me to have a better life than they did.

My dad does not come from a great family...this is not new or private news; but out of respect for him; I will spare my readers the details. As a child, he wanted to be a doctor. He had told me this before, but I was quite shocked when his sister mentioned this me, almost 25 years later in casual conversation. This was obviously quite imprtant to him at one point in his life; especially if his sister who is six years younger than him, remembered this detail, without being questionned about it.

He also loved animals as a small child, and still does. He grew up in Kitchener, a major urban centre in Southern Ontario. However, at the end of the road he grew up on, there was (and still is) a large conservation area whre he and his best friend Paul (who is my Godfather) spent many hours playing and exploring. He collected wounded creatures, includng rats, squirrels and turtles and kept them in cages in the garage...that is, until one day when a feamle rat came walking across the front porch with her eight babies in tow. My grandmother apparently screamed for a good 45minutes before my grandfather told my dad his animals would have to go.

As my dad and Uncle Paul got older they would play hookey from school and go fishing and hunting for birds. My Dad played in a band thoughout most of his teenage years; and likely dreamt of being a musician and songwriter. I don't think "making it big" was the number one dream; but being able to make a living out of writing songs, and playing music would have been one of his dreams. For a while, he even managed ot live out this dream; unfortunately, the life of a musician is not one that is also condusive to being a husband and father. Sometimes, even childhood dreams need to be sacrificed, for the practicality of adulthood.

As for my mother, she wanted to be a nurse. She said she used to dream out the white uniform and hat (man, would she be disappointed now!). When it came time for college, my granfather refused to pay for it; stating he was not going to pay all that money for her to be a nurse for a year, get married then never work again (I guess this was a major problem in the 70's-women not wanting to work or be independent in any way). He told her to pick soemthing else; something more practical. (I guess nursing was too "artsy" for him...) so she chose hairdressing. I remember looking at her very puzzled when she told me this story years ago, thinking of how non-sensical it was. She simply sighed, and said, "you just didn't argue with my Dad...you wouldn't win." So she became a hairdressor. And hated it.

She also loved her grandparents farm as a kid; which is so weird for me to think of. My mother's home is so clean, that you never see dust floating in the sun; and never a thing out of place. So for her as a child, to like being on the farm with the pigs and chickens and cows is more than a little mind boggling. I think she preferred the peace and solidarity more than anything else. Her father, was a war veteran from WWII, who lost his leg riding a motorcycle over a landmine in battle. He NEVER talked about the war in front of me or my cousins, and only very sporadically in front of his children. The PTSD he must have experienced (but of course, did not get treatment for) must have been incredibly painful for both him and his family.

I think moving to Collingwood from Kitchener was also an opportunity for them to fulfill a lot of childhood dreams for them. This was chance at so many things. One, to prove that they didn't need anyone but each other, two they could live near the water and hunt and fish and boat and three, raise their child in a small town. Funny how all parents think this will protect their kids from the dangers such as grugs, gangs and violence.


I have to admit, I have a problem with mentors. Either their acomplishments are so vast that I could never live up to what they have done, or they inveitably let us down in some way, simply because they are human and make mistakes. I have a lot of respect for anyone who chooses to stand up for what they think is right, even if they are wrong. I have a ton of respect for people who are completely honest about their own faults and embrace them. I have a ton of respect for anyone who embraces their faith. I respect anyone who chooses to live a simpler life, and is respectful about the resources they utilize. I respect anyone who chooses to expand their own horizons and go against the grain. I respect the underdog. And I really respect anyone who gives the underdog a chance to prove their value. We all have value; no human life is worth more than another. When you strip away money, status, education and skin colour, we are no different. I beleive it is important to remember this, every single day of our lives.

Changes...

This has been a wild time in my life...lots of changes. Fist we bought a new house and will be moving for the first time in about 10 years...next; I quit smoking; after 20 years....it has been six weeks and I continue to miss cigarettes the way an opiate addict misses heroin; but I am beginning to better than I have felt in a long tine. I am flying nicotine replacment free and happy to say that I no longer cough and wheeze a lot of the time and it is really nice to out at a party and not be standing alone out on a deck, smoking.

I also started running. Badly, I must admit, more of run/walk combination; partly for my health; partly to avoid the nightmare my house is becoming as we pack and shift belongings about. It is also a nice timeout from a whiney 3 year old and an on-edge partner who is feeling these changes as much as I am but will not admit it. I was tempted to join a gym (yet again) but decided that trendy gyms have gotten more than enough money out of me over the years; and let's face it; so many of them are pick-up joints that make bars look tame. Everyone's running around, pushing themselves harder, lifting heavier weights than they should, wearing designer shoes and work out clothes, hoping to impress someone; without even knowing who they really are. Since I am not in that game, (and even if I was single, wouldn't be in that game) the concept of joining that seems kinda dumb.

Some of the changes are not so good. A major one is, I can't sleep. Well, correction, I can fall asleep, but I cannot stay asleep. The last few nights there has been some improvement, but I am only getting about 4-5 hours on a good night. This leads to longs days then frustrating evenings at work, where the clock seems to move even slower than it should, and no end to my life pattern in sight. At first, I was blaming Paul with his snoring, then Avery, with the change from crib to big-girl bed, but I have come to realize that even in a perfectly quiet home; my eyes pop open and there I am at 3:00am, staring at the clock.


I have also become really intolerant to character traits in others I used to find amusing. I will give an example here. The other day one friend made a very flippant comment about what they will and won't allow their children to do WHEN they have them. Now, this person had no idea how offensive I found this (and to be fair, I don't know why I found this so offensive)but I actually had to force myself to sit in the chair and not smack this person for their arrogance. Others saw how upset I was and likely did not understand my frustration, and encouraged me to just let this go. Which is likely the best solution. But my reactions got me thinking. It's the character traits I am finding especially irking; the narcissism, the arrogance, the drama and the demands to be the centre of attention. I think I am seeing some my own worst raits thrown up in my face and it's more than just a little painful.

So I keep going back to my adpoted mantra..."Be the change you wish to see...." we'll see how well that works...

....continued.....

3. What are my childhood dreams? How might I achieve them?


Isn't it funny that I cannot remember many of these??? How is that possible? Have I developed and early onset Alzheimers? Maybe Picks Disease? While neither of these seems appealing or likely; I think a lot of our childhood dreams are lost like so many of our childhood toys over the years....just placed in dusty boxes in the attic or basement and forgetten about. It's not until we are in the middle of a major life change that we remember those boxes and bring them out into the light once again. (For those of you who have noticed...I am aware of the constant baggage references I am using lately).


I remember wanting to be a singer; and this image in my head of me wearing some sparkly gold outfit and walking across a stage; mic in hand. Where this image came from I have no idea, but I remember walking home from school once in the winter time and having it jump into my brain; I even want to say I was in Grade 1 when the image first came to me. Weird, huh?? Those who know me well know that I constantly sing under my breath (despite my lack of talent) and at the top my lungs in the car.

I also dreamed of becoming a vet....and while this did not happen either; at one point in my adult life, it felt like there was a zoo in my home. Two dogs, four cats (one who had kittens) and a pet rat. Over the years the ranks have thinned to one cat and one dog; all others have now gone onto pet Heaven. There are some amzing memories of having a home literally full of furry creatures so happy to see you; and to this day; it is really awesome to see my little black cat clean my labrador's ears. Recently my three year old has decided (much to the cat's dismay) that the cat must be carried everywhere...usually by either the face or under the armpits. While I holler for her to put her down; inside I am howling because the look on both the cat's face and my daughter's is comical.


I dreamed of living on the lake (and still do). I grew up on Georgian Bay and spent almost every warm summer day at Wasaga Beach growing up; and now live next to the largest fresh water lake in the world. Someday I will wake up in the morning to that view; and out newest move brings us even closer. I also dreamed of having a house with a big front porch; was HAS come true (or will in a few weeks!)

I dreamt of being a Mommy someday....check....

I dreamt of what it would be like to have a brother or sister. Well...those were beyond my ability to make happen, but I have been blessed with some women in my life who are like sisters.

I'm sure there are more....but that will do for now.......

The Last Lecture

Just when I think that I am in a dark place no one else could understand; I think of Randy Pausch; the professor from Carnagie Mellon University who passed away in 2008 from pancreatic cancer, leaving behind a wife and three small children. Children who will never have had the opportunities to really get to know him. His book The Last Lecture was a testament for them and a chance for him to tell his life story and childhood dreams.....his close friend developed a "study guide" for educators to enhance the reflections and understanding of the book and our own place of reflection. I think they are improant questions we must all answer about ourselves....

He asks the following:

1. Why has this lecture/book struck a chord with so many people?
2. Where is the speaker/author “coming from”?
3. What are my childhood dreams? How might I achieve them?
4. What were the dreams my parents had and how did they fulfill them?
5. Who are mentors I can turn to? What lessons have they taught me?
6. And what wisdom would I choose to impart to the world if it was my last chance?
7. What are the lessons of my own life?


1. I think so many people fell in love with this book simply because we are drawn to other people's inner strength and courage. The mere thought of not being around to see Avery grow up sends fear up my spine and nausea through me. To face it, embrace it and share it with others is remarkable. Of course, this could be the opposite effect; looking for the emotions of a dying man (kind of like slowing down to see the car wreck) but I am choosing to be more optimistic than that. I think human beings are drawn to "bright lights" and this one is a pretty bright light. Coming to terms with one's one immediate mortality is incredibly brave; most of us cannot even comprehend out own eventual mortality. I think we admire this amn, not only because he accepts this with such grace and dignity, but because he could also be our friend, collegue, brother or partner. Imagine having the ability to accept losing everything and everyone as you know it; and having them have to deal with the loss of you. That takes a kind of bravery few can truly appreciate.

2. Randy is coming from a place of acceptance; almost a "this is the best I can do with what I have," place. That is a hard place. I know I would want more than that. I would not to be content with a speech at the university and the admiration of my courage. I would not be okay with my child only having pictures and a video of my last lecture. I want every waking minute until I am an old lady with her. I know this makes me selfish, and in no way am I more deserving of this than any other parent who loves their child. To have to accept that this is not a possibility is heartbreaking.

sigh...will have to return to this later.....

more errors....

Okay...that whole focusing on the awesome things in my life thing I was talking about? Yeah; that was a huge crockpot of bullshit....I actually made myself a little nauseated just reading that crap. Here's the problem with focusing in on the awesomeness of my life....it's not constant. Sometimes my kid is a brat and my husband's a jerk; sometimes my dog gets into the garbage and the cat pees on my sweater. Sometimes my job sucks and I hate it. The constants I depend on to be awesome....just ain't so all the time. Kinda makes that baggage in the back of the closet that much nastier.

I have had a revelation as to why my little world was made so topsy turvy by one individual and their thoughtless comments. THEY yanked by baggage out into the light; not me. I had been doing a fairly good job of "cleaning house," per se; on working out some old issues and making some positive changes. I hadn't gotten that baggage yet; I was working on it, but it wasn't next on my "to do" list. Now I see how little territory I have actually covered in my quest for emotional wellness, and it really sucks. There is extra-suckiness attached because it has actually set me back. Crap. What kinda shit is that? One thoughtless statement by someone has destroyed a decent amount of hard work I have completed.

So now what? Kick dirt I suppose, and move on. But I am really struggling with the moving on part right now. For the first time in a long time, I actually feel there are two really important people I can't talk to; one because I am too angry and the other because it will hurt them beyond recognition. So I am forced to lie to them both and tell them I am fine; and everything is okay. And it's not okay. It sucks. And I hate it.

The opposite of love is not hate; it indifference. I don't think until this week I actually understood that statement before. It was logical; both love and hate are passionate, all-encompassing emotions that consume you. They stop you from eating, sleeping, noticing it's raining outside and that you haven't paid you phone bill in three months. Indifference is nothing; not caring; it's not missing not caring. It's willing to throw away years of memories to let go of things that are too painful to want anymore. It's letting go. It sucks, and I hate it too. (Can you hate indifference, or does that denote hatred and not indifference?)

I know this much; I hate feeling this way. I hate feeling like a rag that has been dragged across the proverbial kitchen floor. I hate that no one else can actually get all this but me. I hate that so much of my time is being dedicated to these thoughts that I feel completely out of control over. I hate feeling lost.

New mantra??? "Be the change you wish to see." Why? Cause I am fresh out of new ideas right now......

the errors of our ways....

They say that you are not really an adult until you finally see your parents as flawed....once you see the mistakes they have made and continue to make, you see them as regular people and have crossed some imaginary into adulthood....

Remind me to hit the person who said this right upside the fucking head with a brick....

The only problem with finally making this observation is having to deal with the fallout from it. The reasons and rationale for your own flaws and mistakes; and having to hold up that proverbial mirror in front of yourself and go...oh yeah....I do that too....and it's so very bad of me. You are then faced with the task of changing those messed up patterns of behaviour and letting go of a lot of shit.

My problem is, I have no problem stuffing my baggage into the back of the closet for extended periods of time; making me look, on the surface, fairly normal. However, like my actual closet, eventually you need something at the back of it, and you must yank that luggage to the front...and by then, it's really gotten nasty. And now I really don't want to deal with it.

So now what? I guess I focus on the awesomeness in my life....my amazing partner, incredible kid and great friends....in the end, does it not all come down to that anyways????

pure happiness....

I have an important question to ask....is there anything better on this planet than Julia Child's chocolate mousse? As I was preparing it, my knees were already beginning to buckle when I dipped my finger into the batter and taste tested the magic....what heaven!!!

This evening's menu will include lamb chops in a mustard garlic marinade; broccoli with a fresh hollandaise sauce; and baby roasted potatoes....mmmm....and before you ask; yes, I did watch Julie and Julia the other night; and yes, it did inspire....however, that being said, it is NOT the easiest cookbook to read despite its claims, but the results are truly amazing.....

So tonight we will indulge in some incredibly wonderful (and very fattening!!!) selections from Mastering the Art of French Cooking...

and just to torture you...here is a pic of the mousse....

anxiety

So here's thing....I am having 30 women over to my house tomorrow....

I am hosting my friend Shanna's shower; so everyone (and their kids!) are coming to celebrate the birth of her daughter, Maci Lynn. Most of these women I work with, so having them over is not a huge deal, but I have to admit, I am not great with company..we are also still renovating our house, and it's certainly not the prettiest house, by any stretch of the means. Again, this should be a concern, but my anxiety is lying with some of the physicians who are coming to my house; who have money, beautiful homes and more than I do.

Yes, I know this shallow, and silly of me, but I can't help feeling very anxious about these people seeing my inner sanctum....why? Simple...fear of being judged...

I have always been pretty self-assured and confident, but for some reason, this is bothering me now. Not sure why...just is. And the irony is, I brought this on myself. I am the one who invited these people, thinking int he back of my mind that they wouldn't come...that'll teach me.....

depression....

I have spent a lot of time working the field of mental health now, going on 10 years. Much to the dismay of my mother, who still says to me, "When are you going to be a REAL nurse?" I really love what I do (on most days). Some behaviours are so fascinating. Nothing like a manic person, talking a million miles an hour; flirting with my male co-workers, clicking down the hallways in six inch stilletos, thinking she is at a health spa, instead of a psychiatric in-pt unit. Or the homeless man who was psychotic and thought my girlfriend was his long lost lover, "CC Rider." Or 100 pound girls who have been hopped up on cocaine for three days and are still spinning around my unit with tons of left over adrenaline. Some days it's very amusing. Some days it's not.

I work with a lot of really depressed people. And I don't mean sad; I mean depressed. That have nothing left. Their families are emotionally bankrupt from dealing with them for so long. They can't work; and now they have no income. They are in bad relationships because decent people won't even go near someone who needs this much support. They are addicted; alone; and often, no one cares whther they were dead or not. So how do you tell someone like this that there is hope? And in reality, often the odds are stacked against them.

So they come to us....and what happens? It's pretty much common knowledge that nurses are overworked and underpaid; and unless you are gushing blood, screaming at the top of your lungs, or physically impaired in some way; there will be days when no one notices you...sitting in your room, willing yourself to stop living. And for extra fun, you may share a room with a seventeen year old girl who thinks cutting herself up like a roast on Sunday dinner is a "coping stregy," and her gothic friends see this as a sign of "inner beauty." There are days I say to myself, "I can't handle this shit..." How does the sucidal person feel?

I have met some amazing people in this field who have had to walk away, beacuse of how this had affected them in one way or another. And these are high functioning, intelligent, caring people. There are a lot of reasons for this; but I think a huge factor is the lack of respect for what we do. Most people don't understand mental illness) depite the fact that every single person out there knows someone with a mental illness or an addiction), and we are also looked down on by "real nurses" (grrrr) who think that unless you work in an ICU or medical unit, you are not really nursing. It is very easy to get dismayed.

Women.....

Okay...I have to admit...I love working with women...without jumping on the whole "I am woman, here me roar" soapbox, it really is enjoyable.

Not to say that the few men I do work with aren't great (hey, I'm a nurse, and there just aren't as many male nurses as there are female), but women just seem to get each other in a way that is different. At one point today...I was left spinning my wheels, trying to solve a million stupid little problems, when one of the psychiatrists I work with (who yes, is a woman) looked up at me from her office and said, "Kim, are you okay? Can I help with something?" Now at the moment, I didn't recognize how meaningful that was. When I first started on that unit; the docs were almost all male, and I spent most of my time spinning my wheels and trying to accomplish everything. Not once, did any of them ever notice that I was overwhelmed, and if they did, they sure didn't bother to ask if they could help. She got my stress level, and just wanted to let me know that she got me at that moment. And that was cool. Just a brief snippet in time, where someone else made the effort. In my experience, men just aren't as good at that as we are. We see it in one another. And we get it. It's just that simple.

That being said, it's not like I don't fantasize about winning the lottery and quitting my job....hell...somedays I think I don't even need a lottery winning. But it's very rare (I actually would like to use the word "never" here) that it's because of the women I work with. Sure, we fight, squabble, bitch and moan on occasion, but no grudge is ever held. It can't. We are sad when a coworker leaves to try something new or move onto "greener pastures." We cry at one another's successes. And because we are nurses, no illness, body part or emotion is too embarrassing to talk about. How cool is that?

And the icing on the cake? We notice one another amazing new eyeshadow shade. We drool over someones amazing new shoes. We giggle @ work...we play jokes one one another....I spent half my day saying "vacuum" to coworkers who found this hilarious. (If you don't get it, whisper it to yourself in a mirror and see what it looks like!) We threatened to "pants" my boss who was wearing pair of jeans that are now way too big for her, who also found this funny. And we actually managed to get a lot of work done too. Good day at work....

Now to get this kid to pee on the potty....oh hey...they had some great advice for that too!!!!

mood swings....

Why is it when you've had a bad day (or days) that every little thing seems so much bigger than it is?

Okay...potty training...in a word, it sucks. For me and my kid at least. Let's just say we are in a battle; and right now; she is so winning....the only way I can get this kid to not pee all over the floor is to literallyy, sit beside her 10 hours a day...while this may not sound so horrible; the very second I decide to get a glass of juice, or check the mail; or answer the phone....BAM! My kid is peeing on the floor. And now, because I am changing her ways of doing things; she is completely retailiating on me; acting in ways I have never seen her act. Throwing things; screaming at me, making demands....I am starting to realize why some people spank their kids....I had to walk away for a second actually contain myself before I lost my mind...at which point...she peed on the floor...

Needless to say when my husband walked in the door; I was so relieved, I almost peed on the floor! Yay! I can now catch my breath...walk away for a few minutes and let someone else being the evil one for a while....you can guess by my sarcasm exactly how well this turned out...within minutes, my name was being screamed; for help with tasks so simple that small rodents would be able to complete without assistance. I actually stated to the two of them; "do not call my name unless you are on fire." Apparently my family catches on fire A LOT.

All the little things that normally don't bother me are making me nasty, crazy and uber-bitch. I came from a girlfriend's house (I had to escape for fear that I may actually throttle them both!)to discover that she had now peed on a chair, the dishes weren't done and the vaccum was in the middle of the kitchen floor. Again, nothing here that is major, but just enough to drive me back up to nutty all over again....I am actually wishing for the "insane stamp" that Homer Simpson had on his hand...at least then no one would blame me for a brief episode of psychosis.

Diapers are our friend speople...this whole thing is just stupid....

food....

Okay...food is my passion...so is nursing...and my kid...and good wine...and...well...you get my point. I have a lot of passions...but tonight the focus is food. Just bought the kitchen aid ice cream maker attachment...and Oh my God....what an amazing luxury. I can just feel my fat cells expanding on my thighs as I write this. I have come to some conclusions about people and their obsessions with food. It is such a love/hate relationship for most people, and I have decided that their should be some rules about food so we can actually get back to a place where we actually get to enjoy what we eat....

1. Unless you have Celiac's disease or some other rare food disorder; chances are you are NOT allergic to gluten; nor do you have some sort of intolerance to it. You are jumping on the gluten free diet some reason you are likely unsure of yourself; but I will take a shot in the dark that you know someone who has jumped on this bandwagon and is now saying they've lost weight, can now poop, or sleep 8 hours at time. Odds are, their gluten-free diet has nothing to do with this; but more to do with the increased amounts of real, unprocessed foods they are now eating...or it's a somatic disorder. Either way, stop whining and eat some wheat people!

2. People who go out for dinner or are invited somewhere for dinner and pick at their food are obnoxious...there, I said it. Nothing pisses a wannabe-chef or host off more than that person who is already so thin they look like they may faint dead away; who just pushes food around their plate, then says, "It's awfully rich," or "I really have to watch my weight/my gluten intake/or points on from weight watchers." Shut up. Next time, don't come. It's not chic, or sexy, or trendy. It's annoying. Stop it.

3. If you don't cook; do NOT offer advice to people who do. Now I need to clarify this one. If you make the best tomato sauce this side of Italy, but it's the only thing you make, you may offer advice on the tomato sauce, and that's it. Do not say to someone who has just spent hours cooking, "you know what this needs?" Yeah, for you to shut up and get your ass in a kitchen and cook for me sometime honey! (The exception to this rule is the answer of "a nice cab sav I brought to thank you!" Any response other than this is insulting; no matter what you think).

4. Tell people ahead of time if you are a vegetarian; kosher or some other variant so your chef isn't first, incredibly disappointed you will not be partaking of the ribs thy just spent 10 hours preparing; then pissed off that there is $40.00 worth of food going down the crapper. I have actually gone months of my life on a vegetarian diet, and weeks on a vegan one. (While these were were not diets I could personally sustain; most food people actually DO get why you choose to eat this way). Most wannabe chefs have a few vegetarian dishes in their repertoire they would be eager to prepare....we just hate seeing you eat the carrots, and picking meatballs out of that beautiful sauce. Speak up! And if you feel too awkward to do so, suck it up and remember that next time, it is your own responsibility to say something.

5. Stop bitching about the price of "real food." Odds are, you have easily spent $25.00 on crap food this month, either in the form of coffee, a vending machine or some nasty take out that tasted like poo. (I could break out the stats and research here, but it's my blog, just assume I'm right). $25.00 could have easily gotten you milk, eggs, some salad fixings and a decent cut of meat. Besides, by the time sit around whining about how tired you are, call the pizza guy, wait 45 minutes, pay & tip the delivery guy, you could have made a quick pasta dish and done the dishes...you may even burn a calorie or two by actually physically cooking and doing the dishes. Think before you speak people.

6. Finally do not quote that stupid book "Skinny Bitch," to me, or anyone else who actually dares to eat meat, drink milk and fry an egg. And before you ask, yes, I have read it; and yes, I do think much of their research is disputable. I also do agree that most factory farming practices are disgusting and inhumane. However, if you can find the time to drag your ass out of bed on a any given weekend in most of North America, you can take it to a farmer's market and GASP! actually meet real farmers who raise and grow real food, and would be happy to show you their farm if you would like to see it. These people are not all hippie-tree-hugging freaks who walk around quoting John Lennon (there will likely be one or two tho!); they are actual hard working people who make their livelihood my treating their crops and animals with dignity and respect.

and before you jump on me here...I would like to make the following statements:

I have read every single book of Michael Pollan's and think he is brilliant.

I have read and own Fast Food nation; and yes; it is disturbing

I have seen Super Size Me, Food Inc., The Cove and many other documentaries around food; and it is very icky.

I am a meat eating member of PETA (until they see this & revoke my membership)!

I am a member of Slow Food Superior; and yes, it IS inprtant

And most of the time, yes, my 3 year old DOES eat what I put in front of her; including tonight poached salmon.