Obligatory End of Year Post #4

It's hard to believe that I have maintained this blog since August 30, 2004. I have ended each of those years with an obligatory end of year post. In 2004 I basically described our sad little plans for the evening (not very exciting, and I don't think we ever did get that lobster). In 2005 I was quite philosophical and decidingly committed to not bad mouthing Knothead who (surprise surprise) was into drama and shenaningens! In 2006 I actually did do a review of my year and people actually read and commented! How self centered am I?

So here we are, ending 2007. I have had a wonderful year actually. I don't know why I remain amazed at how incredible true love is when you have found the one with whom you are meant to live out your life. I fall a little more in love with HB each day, and this year has been another one of those years.

My job really settled out this year. I returned to my home position, and have been feeling fulfilled and challenged by it. I am very close to finishing the masters program I began in January 2006 - hard to believe!

We have been blessed this year with days of great joy, days of great sorrow, and days of great mediocrity. Every day has been treasured.

I have been reading a book on the Paradoxical Commandments, and at the risk of being completely philosophical here, am going to post these here as a reminder for myself when I reach the obligatory end of the year post in 2008. My hope is that I can remember that these commandments are indeed my calling for every day in 2008.

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.

Copyright Kent M. Keith 1968, 2001.

Happy New Year.

Merrying up a bit...

Ok...less humbuggy today. Frodo and Mini-Me arrived last night. Frodo is wired for sound and that sound is LOUD. Everything is on hi-volume with him. We had a bit of a set-to earlier today, but I have to keep reminding myself that he is almost 13 and therefore cannot help being annoying.

Mini-Me continues to be the apple of my eye. He is turning into the coolest of cool kids! Smart as all get out. Not that he doesn't get annoying at times as well, but because he is so much like HB, we can get it out in the open and be done with it. He wears everything on his sleeve - just like his dad. The other one is too much like his mother and let's face it, HB turned to drugs to cope with her behaviour!

We headed out in separate vehicles to finish up our Christmas stuff today. HB had the kids and I was on my own, mostly because I haven't had a minute to do anything for HB! Funny enough, we ended up at the same mall several hours later and so joined up for lunch. We took the kids into the arcade and let them bat off some steam there, which was fun. Then they came home to play pond hockey and I continued on to finish everything else on my list. Tonight we head out to a party - where kids are welcome! A rare treat since we usually have to turn down invitations on the weekends that they are here with us.

I was watching a story on the news last night that the Salvation Army in our area is down in their campaign by almost $50,000 this year. I stood and watched the kettle for a while at the mall today, and it's true - so many of us out there whizzing by with our dust collecting stocking stuffers in hand, and not stopping to put anything in to help others. For every one person that stopped, I bet there were thirty that didn't. So HB and I made a decision to not buy something we were going to buy today, and put the money in the kettle instead. It feels like the right decision. We have so much, and truly want for nothing. Sure we have money woes, but most of it is because of choices we make.

So yeah...less humbuggy tonight. Keep the reason for the season burning in your heart.

Feeling Humbuggy Today

Remember when blogging used to be the focus of every day? I do. Odd now that I rarely think to put up a post these days, although I still have a number of blogs that I check regularly. I still feel touched though, when I see comments and realize that people are still coming here wondering about me. Thanks you guys!

We're so close to Christmas ... only another five days really. HB and I will do our usual thing - play guitar and sing at two masses on Christmas Eve, and then head up to my folks' place on the 25th. For the first time since the Christmas before my brother died in 1999, my SIL and niece will also be there. I'm having some mixed feelings about that. Also for the first time ever, HB has asked that we go to his mom's for a bit before heading out to my family's place. His brother, whom I don't really know at all, is going to be there and he wants to spend some time there. Normally this would sound like a reasonable request, but there is a lot of history there with this brother. None the less, we will go for a bit.

Frodo and Mini-Me will come over on the 26th, and we'll do everything all over again. It just works out so much better that way - no stress of trying to cram everything into one day. We got them some pretty cool gifts this year (Guitar Hero III! THE score of the season - I ROCK!) and we're not having a whole truckload of company that day, so I think we'll just relax and enjoy each other and the new games that day.

I'm still struggling a bit with Knothead and her incessant requests for money and help. I believe she thinks we are just a bottomless pit of funds here. Well, today we realized that we do indeed have a bottom to the pit, and we've hit it. She called last night to inform HB that he has to take Frodo to a hockey tournament in another province at the beginning of January, which all together will run about $500, and truthfully, I'm not sure where we're going to come up with the money. I know she's doing it because she doesn't have the money either - but geeze Louise, shouldn't we be being grown up and just tell the kid we're all broke? This teaching kids early how to live beyond their means just doesn't quite seem wise to me but who am I? Just the step mother.

So tonight, I'm sitting with all of our financial transactions for the last six months, summarizing everything, and trying to figure out where we can cut. HB has already made a few comments about haircuts and waxing .... I'm thinking that perhaps we can cut down on the HUGE grocery bills or extra money that goes over to her house before I stop getting my hair cut, or start sporting a unibrow. Sheesh.

Bah humbug ... hehe.

I haven't been able to shake this feeling of yuck the last few days. It doesn't help that HB has been behaving like a bear. Cranky, grumpy and just generally hard to tolerate. He has moments of being loveable, but they pass.

The thing that is irritating me the most today is that he got madder at the dawg for digging a hole in the backyard than he did at Frodo - who shot a BB through the basement door window! In my mind, you don't get pissed at a dawg for behaving like a dawg - but you do consequence a kid for behaving like a little thug! But nope, not the golden child. He gets no punishment nor consequence. Which is why he is going to grow up to be just like Knothead - believing that he can simply stand still while the world revolves around him.


Drives me crazy.

She has been after us for more and more money. We voluntarily raised the child support last year (the right thing to do), AND the kids are here about 50% of the time. We gave her an extra $600 to help out with start of the year costs, and we bought some of the kids back to school stuff. We also have expenses here for them - we average about $200 a week in groceries because they are here so frequently, and when they go to school from here, we pay for lunches, book orders, etc. Well, Frodo made the A team in hockey which requires a more significant investment. She hinted that she needs help with that. Over my cold, fat body will that happen!

I'm cranky tonight.

Oh yeah. It was one year ago this weekend that we had our last miscarriage. Maybe that's why we're cranky.

The Return of the Bad Blogger

I am an unbelievably bad blogger! I have been following some of my favourite blogs though, and can't say enough about how happy I am for Ollie and her amazing news! It's bad though, when you're down to one blog post per month. I can remember when I would have to refrain from posting twice in a day!

We've been having some major issues with Frodo and Mini-Me. They turned 12 and 10 this summer, and are truly the products of divorce. I hate to sound like my mother, but I'm going to sound like my mother for a minute when I say that when I was a kid, we'd get our arses kicked for even thinking some of the things these kids do. They are spoiled, abrasive boys with a real sense of entitlement and no sense at all of valuing what they have in this world. It's been a rough summer, and I don't know if we'll survive the adolescent period.

How the hell did I ever think that I could handle a child of my own at my age? I'm trying to picture going through puberty with a kid when I'm in my mid 50's .... yeah .... just can't picture it. Oh how the times have changed. I live in fear of getting pregnant now. Fear I say!

I'll just keep hangin' out with my dawgs, and for the three of you that are still checking in here once in a while, I'm adding some pictures of the most beautiful dawgs in the world for you!

Shifting chairs in the sand

I'm touched that there is still even one person reading this blog! I have to say it kept me sane for a long time. It's hard to believe how long I've had it going - I think this is the biggest commitment I've ever made and kept!

I'm on vacation this week, and it's been grand thus far. Last week HB and I took off for a few days just on our own. We went to the beautiful island of Cape Breton, where we took in some awesome music, toured a historic fortress, ate some really good food, and walked. A lot. And mostly we decompressed. I hadn't realized how stressed I was feeling. I had even lost my voice over the last two weeks. HB finally said to me Friday night, as we sat eating pizza in our hotel room, that he had been beginning to resent my schedule of late. That's something - coming from the man who is so active I get tired even thinking about it! He said how touched he was that I had made the decision earlier that week to get up from my school work and go to a movie with he and Mini-Me. (It was a no-brainer in my mind...come on....Hairspray....John Travolta in a dress....I wasn't missing it!) But his point was made.

So we're committing to checking our commitments with each other before saying yes. Something we've gotten away from in the last few months. And we've also committed to having HB and Sandy time more often. No kids, no dawgs, no cell phones, laptops or work. Just us.

On the being a barren, childless bag side of life - I was hit with a drive-by the other day! Haven't had that happen in quite a while. We were at a paddling regatta, and there was a woman there with her young son. They were having fun, swimming around and watching the races. Another paddler from our team was sitting beside me and suddenly she said "do you have kids of your own?" - the dreaded question - the one I'm never sure how to answer.

Sometimes I take the time to explain that we tried and failed miserably, but that I do consider that I have had at least two kids that didn't make it fully into the world. Other times I answer that we have two boys through HB. And then there are days like this one where I take what feels like the easy way out...in the moment...and just answer with a simple no. Expecting that will end the conversation.

But Ms. Drive-By pressed on, proceeding to tell me just how very lucky and blessed I am to never have had children. How they get on your nerves and are most often little ingrates, and how hers would never come support her at the regattas......and so on.....you get the picture. Then the little guy at the water's edge screeched, underlining her point and giving her room to say "see how lucky you are? Never had to listen to THAT..."

And I wondered if she could see just how desperately we wanted to listen to "that", or to experience the little ingrates that didn't make it into the world.

HB reached over and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. And without saying a word, I knew that he knew.

So we smiled at her, wished her luck in her next race, and moved our chairs to another location. And only shed one single tear.

We have moved on. Mostly.

Way Too Long....

See how fickle I am? I find a new addiction in facebook and completely ignore my poor blog. Sue commented and caused me to look at when I had last posted - holy cow - May!

Things are swimming along here. I just had gum surgery the other day and as I sit here typing, the little cast thing that put over the stitches has fallen off. I'm hoping I don't manage to pull the stitches out. I am one of those people that can't keep my tongue out of things that are in my mouth ... I poke and prod and make it way worse than it needs to be.

And that, is about the most excitement I have going on right now! Things are so amazingly boring and stable, it's awesome.

HB and I have been hanging out, falling more in love with each other daily. Frodo is 12 turning on 20 these days and is a real handful, but I know we'll survive. Took them to a play the other night and Mini Me fell asleep during it. Snored throughout the whole last act. I could have crawled out of the theatre in mortification!

My other big news is that I'm planning a trip to Spain in October/November. I'm truly stoked about that - and need to focus on getting a few more pounds off so I can feel comfortable in some nice light summer clothes. We are not going to get a summer here so I have time.

I'm still keeping up on my blogging friends - many are just about ready to give birth, or have already. Life is good for most.

I must remember to update more often. If there's anyone still reading here, leave me a note and let me know how you're doing!

Devil seeds all of them....

Well, not surprisingly, Mother's Day sucked. It started out with HB's intellectually challenged uncle calling and saying "Happy Mother's Day! Oh wait. Your baby died."

Believe it or not, it went downhill from there.

On Saturday evening HB suggested that we go out together to buy our mothers cards. Harmless enough. When we were getting ready to go, I stupidly asked if Frodo and Mini Me had done anything for their mom, which resulted in a phone call to said devil-seeds, which resulted in us picking them up to take with us. What should have been a $10 trip to the drugstore ended up being a $65 trip to several stores and involved me helping to pick out their mother's day gift for her. Doesn't get much sweeter than that.

But yes it does actually! I had stood my ground and decided that I was not going to be the serving wench for the mother's day dinners that traditionally take place at my parents' house, and had insisted that the mothers come to our house, where we would all go out for dinner. To a new Japanese place near by that has just opened up. Just. As in maybe a week ago.

HB's dysfunctional sister (he has a few) invited herself and her devil-seed along. Actually I like her devil seed. He's cute and he hugs me. By the time we got there, they were seated at the window seats, along with HB's mom. She was drinking beer and sqwacking loudly saying "who picked THIS place? Did you see the prices???"

Although the food was delicious, the kitchen was incredibly disorganized, with meals coming out all haphhazard. The little guy was finished his before our salads even came out - you get the picture. It took us four hours to finish dinner.

Happy Mother's Day. Frodo and Mini-Me didn't even wish me happy evil stepmother day or anything. Good thing I have a sense of humour ... I've needed it the last few days!

Enough of this!

I've been feeling a bit blue lately and couldn't quite put my finger on why, when I realized that had our last pregnancy continued, I would have given birth in the last few weeks. My due date was April 17th.

Instead, I spent the weekend packing up the remaining maternity clothes that I had tried to give away to my neighbour, into yet another set of bags to give to another friend who is pregnant with their seventh child. Seven kids. Wow.

I don't want to be misunderstood. I'm still really in a good place with not having a child of my own. Just a wee bit blue. The other day I also got thinking about Brodie, and realized that had he lived, we would have a four year old running around this house right now.

And that made me realize how long this has been a part of my life. Amazing.

So this weekend will be Mother's Day, and once again I was facing the prospect of travelling up to my parents' place where I would be the servant girl for the dinner since, you know, I'm technically not a mother but my mother and sister both are.

Enough of that! I've decided to take control of the situation. I emailed my mother and have invited her here for Sunday. I'm also going to invite HB's mother, and tonight I'm telling the men that they are taking all three of us out to dinner at new Tai place that has recently opened.

This Thursday HB and I plan to attend a mass that is being held in memory of all babies who have died before birth - for whatever reason. We've never done that, in the five years since this whole ordeal started. In a very weird way I'm looking forward to it.

Facebook - my new addiction

Things are good. Nothing major or deep to post about these days. In times gone by, that would have concerned me that my life was so normal I had no crisis. Now I'm totally content with that state of affairs.

I've become incredibly addicted to Facebook . I'm amazed at the number of people you can connect with through this thing - it's a total seven degrees of separation (or whatever that movie was called) event! It's amazing how small a world it really is with the help of the internet.

My Big Fat Boring Life

Things are moving along in my life in a way that is astoundingly normal. Comfortable. Regular. Ordinary.

I love it.

We've had Frodo and Mini-Me here for the majority of the last four weeks. That's been a combination of their regular time with us, March break, their mother having commitments that has taken her out of town, and them just wanting to be here. It's been really good because it's allowed us to finally settle into a place where we can have our lives go on when they are here. Normally everything stops and the world revolves around them while they're here - but that's not normal living. We have gone through major guilt of not wanting to either go out when they are here because we only have them a few days a week (although by extension, that means so does their mother, right?) or because we're not sure how they will behave if we take them with us wherever we are going. Both ended this past month. We've taken them with us to places that we normally wouldn't, and they've behaved like normal kids. We've had people into our homes and told them that, like other normal families, we'd be chaining them to the wall hooks we had installed in the basement for precisely such an occasion, and they complied willingly.

In short, it feels like we've been a normal family this last month, and it is tres cool. Last night while we were at my parents' place, Frodo actually put his arm around me on the couch. I tried to let on like it was an every day occurrence, but everyone in the room knew it was monumental.

As I said, tres cool.

In other news from my big fat boring life, I'm seeing the finish line for this semester's courses. They've been a huge amount of work - mostly reading and group work - both of which bore me to tears. I have given up on my goal of maintaining an A average, and had to take my well earned "told you so's" from colleagues who are a year ahead of me in the program. I guess every new grad student in this program enters with the "I'm gonna maintain an A average" attitude, and those that have gone before sagely nod their heads while assuring us that this too shall pass. Why, just the other day I found myself counselling a new student in just that manner. Yep. We are counselling our own future to underachieve. Impressive eh?

I hit a plateau with my weight loss journey - 30 lbs and holding. I had sought some nutritional counselling from the fitness coach I've been seeing at the gym, and she told me that my body was storing because I wasn't getting enough protein or complex carbs to support the workout regime I now have. I took that advice to the weight loss center, and asked to be moved to another level of the program that would meet this nutritional need. Now, this is a great program, but a canned one, so here's what happened. They called their nutritionist, who said to move to a program that would give me "one more starch and 1/2 a protein". I was delighted! Finally, an advertisement that was actually true! They do indeed tailor the program to meet your personal needs! I took my new information booklet and ran home to plan out my new meals.

Imagine my surprise when I did the math. Why yes, I did indeed have a new half circle under the protein column, but all it was good for was colouring in. Let's take chicken as a protein example. Under my old program, I could eat 16 oz of chicken in a day and call that 2 exchanges of protein as each exchange of chicken was 8 ounces. Under the new program, with 1/2 an exchange more of protein, I could eat 14 oz of chicken in a day and call that 2 1/2 exchanges of protein. Why? Because although I had an "extra 1/2 of a protein", the protein size was reduced!

Well, I'm right S-M-R-T and caught onto that quick like!! I'm still kind of blown away that they think we're fat AND stupid.

Anyhow, I realized that I'm not going to break this plateau unless I follow the nutritional advice I'm being given by a nutritionist who has nothing to gain from me financially. I decided to put this program on hold, and pick up my old WW materials. This allows me to stay within a reduction range while at the same time making my own choices of protein and carbs. I've already dropped another 3 lbs just in the week that I've been following this new plan, and let me tell you......skim milk never ever tasted so good! I didn't realize how much I missed having a wider choice of dairy. Under the other program I could only have 1 dairy exchange per day, so by the time I ate my yogurt and had cheese with my melba toast, that was gone!

And finally, last Sunday HB proved once again why I completely and absolutely adore him. We were out at a function where people were sharing their experience of a weekend they had just completed. One of the guys was speaking, and he looked at his girlfriend, who was standing at the back of the room and said "all I can tell you is that you and I are going to be the happiest couple in the world", which of course put all the women in the room into a swoon.

But none swooned as much as I did ... because HB, without missing a beat, leaned into me and said "how can that be, when we already are?".

I do love that man!

Oh the excitement. It just never ends at Casa Dawg!!!

Handing it over.....

Last time I blogged, I mentioned that I had an appointment made to discuss a tubaligation. And I did have an appointment. What I didn't say was that the appointment wasn't with a medical professional, but rather with my parish priest. Although I am firmly decided that I no longer wish to become pregnant, I have still been struggling with the whole concept of taking surgical action to prevent pregnancy.

I am a practicing member of the Catholic religion, but more importantly to me, I am a Christian person. There are many, many things about the formal teachings of the Catholic Church with which I struggle, and many with which I just plain don't agree. I don't condemn anyone who chooses to whole heartedly believe in the teachings of the Church, but personally I am one of those Catholics that does tend to question. Not outwardly so much, as inwardly .... in my private moments with the God of my own understanding, and occasionally with friends who are ordained priests or deacons.

I believe in God. I believe in the example of Christ and I wake up every day, determined to be able to discern what God's will for me is that day. I want to be the best person that I can be, and to carry out the actions that He is calling me to take that day.

For the longest time after we lost Brodie, I was consumed with becoming pregnant again. I would go to Mass, sit and pray very specific prayers. I wanted to become pregnant .... carry to term .... and have a healthy baby of our own. Nothing short of that would do as answered prayer.

Slowly I began to understand that I needed to look at how I was praying. And I realized that I was completely praying for MY will to be done. With great struggle, I fought to hand that over, and instead to pray for the knowledge of God's will for HB and I with regard to biological children of our own.

When I became pregnant again this past summer, I was surprised. I really felt that I had already received the answer to my revised prayer - that we were not intended to have children of our own. So this pregnancy was a blip in my understanding.

HB has tremendous faith in God. He is an amazing example of faith in action to me. He encouraged me to be happy about the pregnancy, and to continue to wait to understand what God's will was for us.

Now this next part is what gets dicey because of course, that pregnancy ended in miscarriage as well. What amazed me was that this time, I understood that I had indeed been shown God's will for us. Of course we were deeply saddened by the miscarriage, but somehow there was a difference in the aftermath this time. There was a certain peacefulness. I can't even begin to explain it in a way that makes sense to anyone - even myself sometimes. I still can't talk about losing Brodie without crying, and trust me, I felt no less connected to and happy about this last pregnancy. Yet my reaction is completely different this time.

I don't for one moment believe that the God my understanding is a hurtful or vengeful God that intends for me to continously experience the physical and emotional pain of death through miscarriage. But my physical body is still capable of achieving pregnancy, and so as long as we continue to not take precautions, there is the physical chance that I will again become pregnant....remote though it is.

Thus the struggle within myself regarding taking surgical steps to prevent that pregnancy. We've discussed other methods, but to be honest, HB is not interested in vasectomy; neither of us are interested in condoms and all that entails; I can't do the pill without a whole bunch of side effects that drive me up the wall. We won't even talk about the one time I tried to use the sponge and ended up in at my doctor's on an emergency basis to have it removed, ok?

So I really kind of felt like my options were limited. Yet, there was something not sitting right with me. And I was fighting it because I didn't want to believe that little old radical me was succumbing to what I have always maintained is a man-made teaching of a patriarchial church.

I really like our parish priest. He's young, somewhat traditional, but has a good sense of humour and openness about him. We've had him over for supper and hung out with him a few times, and he was with us when we lost this last baby. I felt comfortable to speak openly with him about my struggle.

He gave me no advice. He did lead me through some dialogue, though, that has caused me to decide to leave it alone for now .... and trust.

I'm terrified. But I do believe, and I do trust. So for now, my decision has been made. No surgery.

This, my friends, is a huge leap of faith for this control freak.

I'm ready for 9 to be over

I am a terrible stepmonster. We have Frodo and Mini-Me here every Thursday evening, and then every other week they hang around for the weekends. Mini-Me is going through the terrible period that kids go through at age 9, of turning into the demon seed. I have to stop regularly and remind myself that this behaviour comes with being nine years old. I am so ready for 9 to be done. Frodo is 11 now, and is a nice, reasonable person. I know that this too shall pass as he heads toward the hormone dripping teen years - but for now, I'm hanging onto the adorableness of 11 with him and drawing strength from remembering when I was ready for his 9 to be over too.

And then I realize that while Mini-Me has turned into the demon seed, I have turned into my parents. I have long, drawn out discussions with HB where I insist that I never behaved like this at age nine. And I hear my father's voice in my head, reminding me of how he walked barefoot in the snow to school. Uphill. Both ways. Dragging his six siblings behind him in a sled lined with aluminum foil and heated rocks.

It is in the solitude of Sunday, when Frodo and Mini-Me have left the building, that I feel some gratitude for not having children here full time. I know that stepmonstering is a different ballgame because there's all the other stuff that goes along with it. The "you're not my mother" glares. But I'm not convinced that we wouldn't be going through this very same stuff if I was their mother and they were here with us full time.

Which makes me realize that I am indeed too old and cranky to be anyone's mother. I turned 44 two weeks ago.

I have an appointment on Tuesday to discuss tubaligation. I'm seeking some counsel on it from a trusted source before I move to speaking to my doctor about it. It feels like the biggest and most final move I've ever considered making. For me, it's huge.

Hand me back my head please....

I think that, after years of having relatively stress free times, PMS has set in at Casa Dawg. What else can explain my turning into the she-bitch from hell this last week?

I have been ultra-sensitive to the least little comment. Everything that HB said was subject to interpretation and analysis. On Saturday morning I was leaving for a meeting, and as I was getting ready to go, I called out "bye" to HB and the kids. No answer. I chortled out a second time - still no answer. I became demonically possessed at that point, screeching out to myself (since obviously no one was listening) "byyyye Sandy....have a GREAT day!" and punctuating my response to myself with a massive slamming of the front door on the way out.

I immediately felt remorse - even before I had my truck backed out onto the road. So, when my cell phone rang 10 minutes later, I sheepishly answered. HB said he was on his way out from the kitchen to give me a kiss goodbye before my head started spinning around and doors started slamming.

This is but one example of what our week here was like.

It has been suggested by several in the know that perhaps I am entering a perimenopausal state, explaining the completely screwed up hormones. I have also been incredibly forgetful and this last week's period lasted longer than any I've ever had. Ever.

Hmmm....any good news? Well, I've hit the 30 lb loss mark. I am officially able to buy in the normal size person clothing stores now, and celebrated that this weekend by buying three new outfits. One even has a belt. A belt! Do you know how long it's been since I've worn a belt?

Oh yeah. I gave away all my maternity clothes this weekend. And felt really ok with doing that.

Carry on while I go await the next mood swing.

Reverse Fertility Ass-vice (literally)

Couldn't resist posting this one....sorry.

My sad little life...

I am one of those annoying people that keeps her old calendar from one year to the next. We have one calendar in the kitchen that holds all the various appointments, band gigs, rehearsals, visits from friends, basketball and hockey practices for Frodo and Mini-Me. I also have one up here in my office that holds my school assignment deadlines, personal appointments, family milestones, birthdays, and other celebrations.

In my commitment to decluttering, I threw both of these out - right in the garbage. And Murphy's Law has prevailed.

I need them back.

I took the Banana to the vet today as she was scheduled to be spayed. You may recall that when she arrived on a Thursday in October, I immediately made an appointment for the following Wednesday for her spay procedure, only to be foiled by an unexpected experience of having a Newf in heat on our hands! The procedure obviously had to be cancelled, and we got the treat of putting maxi pads on a large dawg for several weeks.

So we waited the requisite number of weeks and dropped her off today at 8:00 a.m. I arrived at work at 9:00 a.m., and had a call from the vet at 9:15 a.m.

The pre-op tests indicated that she is going back into heat and so they could not perform the spay. Now, I don't mind an overachiever, but two heats in less than three months is a bit much there Mz Fanna Banana!

When I went to pick her up at the end of the day, the vet and I got chatting. As we did the math backwards, we're now wondering if indeed she is going into heat, or still not far enough out of her last heat.

And of course, I don't have my calendars so I can't swear to her end date.

Because yes, pathetically, I was reduced to even tracking my dawg's periods on the calendar.

I have a sad little life ..... just sad. Can you beat that?

Eight Years Ago Today

Eight years ago today, my brother committed suicide. I cannot believe that much time has passed. I am now almost two years older than he was when he forever froze himself at age 42. Sometimes on this day, I feel tremendous sorrow, but today was a day filled with counting my blessings and remembering the good times I had with my brother.

I do feel sorrow at what he has missed though. He would have loved HB...and I hate that he never had the chance to see me truly happy. He also would have loved that his wife finally left the job that caused them so much anguish....and to see how cool his now 16 year old daughter has turned out. He would have been so proud to know that his oldest daughter is in love with an incredible man, and that they have made a beautiful life together. He would have adored Big Dawg, and would be equally in love with the Banana Girl we have now. I miss him, and can't even begin to fathom what it has to be like to be in a place that is so desperate, ending your life is the only viable option.

Hug your family today. Just do it. Love them and keep them close. Savour every moment of your time with them, and if you have petty disagreements, forget them. Move on and get over it. Life is far too short. Join me in counting blessings.

Every Journey Has To End Somewhere

I've posted on a few blogs lately and found myself actually admitting that infertility has kicked my ass and won. It's true.

The fight is over for me. In fact, over to the point that I am now thinking I need to speak to my doctor about preventing pregnancy. Ironic, no?

The fact of the matter is that in a few short weeks I will be turning 44 years old. I have decided that I although I would love to experience pregnancy, I am not sure I'm ready to adapt to having a baby. I know it's a true miracle when a baby actually results from a pregnancy, but the reality is that is always a possible outcome when one does manage to become pregnant.

Even HB has admitted in the last few months that he enjoys his peace and quiet, and the freedom that we have when Frodo and Mini-Me go back to their mother's house.

I know I've said before that I'm done with this journey, but somehow this time, it feels real. I still haven't fully taken the step to connect with the doctor about prevention, but I think I will be doing so soon.

So it's probably time to remove me from your fertility related blogroll. I'll probably continue to blog, but about far more mundane matters. Like the previous post. And since you're obviously hanging on the edge of your seat about my basement declutter outcome, I'll let you know. It's still in exactly the same shape. We haven't moved a thing. There. Feel better?

I might blog about the loves of my life - my dawgs. In fact, expect that. And I will still obsessively stalk people like Ollie and Julia and Julianna and DinoD and Tiff - all for different yet common reasons. Different in terms of what their current paths are, but common in that these women have inspired, journeyed, cried and laughed with me over the past few years. I'll also regularly haunt people like Cecily and Sarah because I really do want to be their friends in real life and live in awe of their tattoos which I've always been too chicken to get myself.

I also might blog about my new interest in healthy living, and the fact that I've lost almost 30 lbs and 16.6 inches since joining the gym. Count on me regularly talking about my amazing husband and how gobsmacked I remain that we managed to find each other in this big world and so late in our lives, and how eternally grateful for that I remain.

But I suspect my blogging about baby desires are over. It's been a blast.

DeCluttering in the New Year

It's only 12 days into the new year, and yet it seems like Christmas was forever ago! We're back into the routine here at Casa Dawg.

Classes have started again, and both the ones I'm taking this semester seem pretty interesting. They also don't appear to be hugely work laden, and for that I am grateful.

The weight loss journey has slowed down a bit, but there have been no gains. That's good news I guess. I'm still enjoying working out and will be using the six personal fitness coaching sessions that HB bought me for Christmas to keep me going with the coach until the summer. My goal is to be able to join him in competitive paddling this summer. I can actually feel a muscle developing in my leg. It is such a foreign feeling to me that I actually thought it was a knot that needed to be massaged out. I'm enjoying this working out stuff so much that I actually feel I'm letting down the fat girls don't exercise club I've been president of most of my life. Strange sensation this enjoying getting healthy.

We've also been focusing on decluttering the house. I have never in my life known anyone that can collect as much clutter as we do here in Casa Dawg. No, that's not true. Once I helped a friend clean out the home of his elderly grandparents after the grandfather passed away. He had been on the maintenance staff of a local university, and had made it his habit to bring home anything that students left behind when they vacated their dorm rooms. And I do mean anything. There was a basement apartment in their home that was literally stacked floor to ceiling with stuff. Just stuff. Literally stacked - no lying here. There was a path through the stuff to get to the back of the apartment, but you didn't know what all was in there. The same was true for his garage. I swore we were going to find a Studabaker under all the stuff in the garage.

HB is an amazing stuff collector. Prior to moving in here, he had been storing his stuff in one of those rented lockers. On the day of his move here, he arrived quite excited saying "I had a couch! Who knew???" Apparently, there it was, under all the stuff. Quite a nice couch too.

So today, my sister will arrive to take some of our stuff home to her place, to add to her stuff. I'm hell bent that we will not replace this stuff with more stuff. I finally have the rec room in a place where we can have company and not feel embarrassed. HB has promised me that this weekend, he is going to go through the basement and finish tossing out stuff. I'll be away on a girls weekend. We'll see how it goes.

In the meantime, here is the "during" picture of the journey to declutter HB's basement. I really really wish I had taken a before picture. I'm sure you wouldn't believe it!