Tubby Tuesdays

Foreword:  So I started writing the following post this morning and I'm going to publish it anyway even though so many things (basically me being an uncontrollable psycho) have transpired since beginning it.  I will post more about what happened today, tomorrow.  On with the show....

I've been thinking a lot lately about my health and.....my muffin top.  Although I doubt there was much I could've done to prevent Graves' Disease and Fibromyalgia (still think that one is a joke) I am almost certain there are things I can do to improve my symptoms.  In fact I know there are but, I much prefer being a big fat blob on the couch, eating my nachos and drinking my Slurpee while allowing one single tear to continuously flow from my left eye just so everyone knows how very sorry I feel for myself.


It's Genetic, I swear!



It's not that I want to look like a direct relative of the dough boy, in fact it's quite the opposite.  I actually have dreams about having the body that I did before my precious body snatcher son came along.  I miss you long lean legs, I miss you scarless flat tummy, I miss you tight uplifted rump...I mourn you daily.  Now I have more folds than origami and realize I either need to get moving, get motivated or just accept the weight that I have put on and dress it up as a permanent part of me. 

I have every excuse in the book not to do it.  Whaa, I don't feel good today.   Whaa, I have scars and stretch marks and cellulite, I'll never be the way I used to be so what's the point in trying.  Whaa, whaa, whaaaaa!  The reality of the situation is that I better get my fat ass in gear before I start treatment for the Graves' because at some point I am going to become Hypothyroid and it's going to be that much harder for me.  I am also prone to type 2 Diabetes genetically and hey, well why not throw that onto the heaping mound of crap that I already deal with.....I think not.

The sad and arguably most pathetic part about this weighty situation I've put myself in is that I am probably the most knowledgeable person on the planet earth (understatement) in health and weight loss.  Yes, that's right....I have worked at a weight loss clinic, an organic food store, I have taken courses in natural this and that, started a certificate program in it and have done countless hours of reading and researching on my own.  Now to top it all off, I work for someone who specializes in health via diet/exercise and supplementation....I have every resource at my finger tips but, very rarely apply it in my own life.

So I think now is the time to start.  NOT a diet, or an exercise program.  No, not this time.  It is time to start being accountable to myself and to others.  Every Tuesday I will blog about it...so that I am somewhat accountable.  I promise not to lie or leave out any details....like when I hide in the closet with the Nutella and eat the whole jar with a spoon and then take the top layer of trash out of the garbage can, put the empty Nutella jar in it and recover it so my husband won't see it and then yell at him for eating all the Nutella and not telling me so I can replenish the stock when I grocery shop. Just as an example, not that I've ever done that.  So right now, I am committing to do my best, be honest when I fail and take baby steps to make myself better (and less lumpy).  Starting tomorrow.  Right now I'm going to get into some fat clothes, watch the Biggest Loser, gluttonously eat nachos and relax.  WHAT?  I had a bad day.

Just to show you I am totally serious, I'm going to take a huge step and do something I'm possibly totally going to regret.  I am going to post my BEFORE picture.  Please don't laugh, or judge....it would crush me. It is very revealing and a picture I allowed my husband to take of me in a bikini on a private beach just in case I wanted to use it as a before picture.  I didn't think I'd have the guts to do it until now.

-The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Tubby Mommy)

Sunday Baking With a Boy in the Kitchen, Episode #3

Well, we gave baking a shot today and for some strange reason (named Husband).  The icing was the consistency of nacho cheese and ended up melting down the sides of the first 6 cupcakes....yes it took me 6 cupcakes before I realized this was happening, does this mean I'm stupid?  Maybe, moving on.  Aidan thought it was pretty darn funny, and his mockery seemed to increase the angrier I became.  Whatever, okay so I'm not the icing queen...pffft at least the cupcake part was good.  I decided to add more confectioners sugar to thicken the icing and that worked....a little.  So if you have cavities, I would stay far away from my cupcakes as the icing kind of just is sugar at this point.

On a positive note....I am a thief....yep, cold hard criminal in the making.  Today I decided to stop in at Canadian Tire, a friend tipped me off that they had those magnetic spice containers and I have wanted them FOREVER!  You see I have over 36 different spices/herbs and blends (mostly because I am a spice hoarder) and they are scattered in various places in my kitchen.  This becomes an issue when I tell Aidan to go fetch a certain spice and 15 minutes later I find him buried in them trying to find the correct item.  Anyway, so to buy the containers individually they were $1.99/each.  I decided to just grab a box behind the display that was unopened and had 24 containers in it.  That was a good start I thought....headed off to the check out, grabbing a snazzy mini grater on the way.  Beep, bloop (that's the sound of the scanner).  This is the checkout girl: "That will be $8.54 please."  I looked at her, kind of stunned, processing the price in my mind.  Then my mind says "Shut up, pay and run!!!"  So that's what I did....I think I broke a sweat waiting for my card to be approved....please don't notice, please don't notice.  Then it happened....she put the items in the bag, handed me the receipt and I booked it out of the store before she could realize that she scanned the box, which only had the price of each individual container.  So I saved myself $45.77 to be exact and it felt pretty darn tootin'.  I'm sure it will come back to haunt me at some point.  Now I'm going to be completely paranoid that every bad thing that happens to me from that moment on is directly related to the fact that I was purposely dishonest but, it's totally worth it! 

The cupcakes we made were Chocolate Pumpkin Cupcakes with crappy delicious Orange Cream Cheese Icing.  Aidan thinks he wants to be a baker when he grows up, I told him he better find a new teacher then because I am no baker....also told him there's much more money in plastic surgery because if I stop myself from saying things like that I would win way too many "Mom of the Universe" awards.  He loves me anyway because I give him cupcakes 5 minutes before he has to go to bed, I am that good of a mom, you should try not to be so jealous.

As you can see from the pictures, the Husband came up to help mix the icing while I cleaned up the baking shit storm that was my kitchen. I think he mixed it for about 243 minutes while trying to look sexy for the picture, therefore I blame him for the nacho cheese icing.

I have awarded Aidan the title of Official Egg Cracker because he has become very efficient in the art of egg crackery.  So if he learns nothing else from me, he can always tell people I taught him to crack an egg.  I've pretty much done my job as a mother.

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper  (baker extraordi-NOT)

Toe Jam Tales and the Panini Thief

Toe Jam or unknown organism?

I know what you're thinking...."what is that picture to the left?  It's kind of creeping me out."  Well, you can imagine then, how I felt when I found this in my BATHTUB.  It basically leads me to one question...Why are husbands such disgusting creatures?  What effort does it take to actually rinse out the bathtub after you use it?  Apparently A LOT because, it never gets done.  I'm sorry if I've categorized your husband as a disgusting creature, you may not agree but, it makes me feel better to imagine that all husband's are like this hence why I have to tolerate it.

I've inspected the object in question and I can only come to the conclusion that it is none other than jam, not the kind you spread on toast or roll into a crepe (oh yum, I want crepes) but, the kind that comes from your toes, or his toes rather.  There appears to also be a dog hair mixed in with the toe jam which leads me to believe (and is the only possibility) that the dog was also having a bath at the same time.  There is another miscellaneous hair in the mixture, too straight to come from nether regions but, still nonsensical because my husband has a shaved head.  Therefore, I also have reason to suspect that he had another short haired animal in the bathtub possibly a goat of some sort?  Yep, my husband, the dog and a goat all had a bath together last night and found it necessary to leave behind evidence of said event.

In other, news my dog stole my Chicken Pesto Panini this evening (or what was left of it).  Although she's apologized for her unruly behavior, I just don't see the reasoning behind making such a display out of her thievery.  I'm just happy she decided to leave my Funky Monkey Smoothie untouched, however she did manage to lick it off the lid.  Luckily there wasn't much of it left for her to feast on because she does not tolerate human food well and we would've had a serious case of explosive canine diarrhea had she ate more of it.  Then I would've had to succumb her to another bath....with husband....and the goat.

A dog's dinner

I so sawry.

I love that the bag says Feed the Crave....she sure did!

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka dog and husband whisperer)

Dear Graves' Disease; I Hate You.

I don't have Cancer or some other disease/condition that is going to cut my life short and put me through all sorts of unimaginable hell but, I have to say that you, Graves'  Disease are becoming a real pain in my arse.
I think you are being rather cruel and I wish you would take yourself to the nearest high rise building and take a flying leap off of the top.  Then, I hope that you fall to the ground, maybe even on a box of nails that some construction worker left on the sidewalk by accident with all the points facing up.  That would be nice of you, and you should do that STAT.

Stat is what the Dr. ordered yesterday, with complete authority and I was rather enamored with her because she has failed me in the past, more than once.  This was indeed a nice and welcomed change in our seemingly everlasting relationship.  When she took my pulse today (which was high at 108 bpm) she could feel the palpitations that are happening to my heart, now even with the Beta Blockers.  So Beta Blockers, I am also not too fond of you lately either, way to do your job.  Pffft.  She kind of got googly eyes after she felt them. In case you don't know that look, it's the one that tells you that a Dr. has been awoken from the coma that a countless number of common cold symptoms, and limitless embryo sonograms has put them in.  It's the thrill that a Dr. gets when they have a patient sitting right in their very own family medical practise that actually has something that needs immediate attention.  They get to put on their detective cap and they start frantically doing laps around their exam room (yes, it is possible even in that small of space).  You can practically see the wheels turning in their minds...."This is urgent, this is the most exciting thing that's happened to me all week!"  Awesome, I'm glad I could give her a thrill.  While she is doing laps and I am practically having a heart attack on her table (total exaggeration) she manages to tell me (even though she is a little out of breath from running laps) that I am Tachycardic which basically means that my heart rate is too fast....duh!  Anyway, I think the main concern was that the palpitations are indeed increasing and therefore I am now on an increased dose of Beta Blockers.  I seem to tolerate them quite well on the other hand so I'm not too concerned about that.

I was pretty convinced that I no longer had (or never had) Fibromyalgia so I mentioned that to her.  She told me that the two are totally unrelated because I had all 18 trigger points which generally confirms it and that they had tested my thyroid levels consistently during that time to rule out a thyroid problem.  Now, that doesn't mean that I haven't had Graves' disease for longer than just the past few months, it just wasn't showing up and I still have Fibromyalgia as well.  I just about kicked her in the taco at that point.  That may sound harsh but, I always hated that label the Rheumatologist put on me and I kind of wanted it to be vetoed by the Grave's....no such luck.  I immediately went home and got in the shower fully clothed and cried (another total exaggeration).  What I really did was take some Beta Blockers and went shopping with a friend...it was super good times!  I got a call later on from said Dr. telling me that my thyroid levels were pretty good and that the medication seems to be working (for now)  so that is good news, and I am quite happy not to take an increased dose of that poison because it hasn't been all that fun thus far.  Unless you consider being a zombie fun but, I don't think you would like the taste of human flesh (although I heard it tastes like pork...mmmm bacon).

So that's it for now, my adventure continues....still waiting for the ultrasound to determine the fate of my new close friend the goiter, still crying in the shower fully clothed and hoping for a speedy(ish) recovery.

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (the most awesome Tachycardic person you know)

Domo arigato, Mr. Roboto

You know the times when your child approaches you ever so cautiously immediately upon your return from work twiddling their thumbs, making just enough eye contact to give you the kind of look you only see on World Vision commercials, with a little sway action in their hip region and with the sweetest of voices, the kind you rarely hear and you know has been rehearsed and they say "Mom, do you think you might want to play with me?"  

Why is it that intuitively they somehow know that right now, at this very moment you are at any second liable to become comatose from the sheer exhaustion of life?  I believe my child has some sort of sixth sense (or somehow picked up spidey senses from all those Spiderman cartoons I kept him occupied with so I could nap on the couch I watched with him) that accurately gauges how tired I will be when I arrive. He deliberately homes in on it especially on days where I have gotten amounts of sleep that are dangerously low, and the computer breaks down at work, and I've only had 2 cups of coffee, and I had to make 2 stops on the way home, and, and, and......"Of course bud, just let me finish wolfing down my already cold dinner that I've barely chewed because my stomach is eating itself after only having time for half a cup of cold oatmeal for breakfast, and some luke-warm microwaved left overs from 3 nights ago....I'd LOVE to."

So, we made a tin can robot.  Well, I did.  Aidan helped by singing Christmas Carols in all sorts of tear your hair out annoying amusing voices and dropping all the miniature screws all over the floor.  At one point (I must've blacked out from rage) I was apparently cursing enough for Aidan to announce that he was going to his room until I could "control" my swearing.  After an hour of hard labor , my our masterpiece was complete (cue evil laughter here).  All I had to do now was rip open all the electronic items in the house in search of 1 AA battery (NEVER included)....we no longer can use the TV remote in the house but, the robot was A-LIVE (and again, evil laughter).  It turned out pretty cool, Aidan ripped it's eye off within a matter of milliseconds and we all (dog included) ran around the house chasing the robot laughing and having that silly kind of fun that makes it all worth it....every fucking blissful minute!

Note to self:  Start a swear jar and then use the money to buy myself new shoes.

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Mad Scientist)

Whaz That?

Eyeball assault = Result of playing with 8 year old

"Look Ma, a robot"

We're All Mad Here, You'll Fit Right In

A classic quote from Alice  in Wonderland that completely encompasses my daily life.  If you can remember about 2 years ago my rantings about this so called "blanket" diagnosis I received called Fibromyalgia  read it here, well apparently the Dr's (who I have reason to believe receive their credentials from Cracker Jack boxes) have gone back to the drawing board and have come up with an actual diagnosis, a real disease I tells ya!

So the new verdict is Graves' Disease, it is not as "grave" as it sounds though.  Let me tell you a little about it...

DUDE, Where's my Thyroid?

Firstly, I am not crazy, I have Graves' Disease, no really not crazy!  Yep, all those times when I got hulk psycho on some of you, finished your sentences because you just weren't talking fast enough for my hyper-driven Graves' mind, ran around like a chicken with it's head cut off stressing about minute details that you all knew really didn't matter it was ALL the Graves' and not really me, or that's my story now anyway.

The diagnosis came about when I stopped sleeping...literally.  I was getting on average 2 hours of broken sleep, waking up with what felt like my heart trying to claw it's way out of my chest and surprisingly was able to still function, I was super human, finally there were enough hours in the day because I no longer needed sleep!  It was a little concerning and a lot annoying but, I figured it was stress, or Fibromyalgia, or just a some kind of cycle that mimicked one of those spinning carnival rides, the one's that you throw up a little in your mouth while standing in line for.  Whatever, I was bound and determined not to let it get me down, not to let it interfere and to keep on truckin' no matter the cause.  Then came the Goiter.

Hmmmm, can't swallow solid food without this gnawing feeling of it hitting a lump in my throat and then a feeling of food being stuck there, this may be a problem I thought to myself.  Then my boss blew it out of the water...."Umm Sarah, why is your neck swollen?"  With a quick feel, she told me that was my thyroid and I should probably seek medical advice in the speediest of fashions.  Speediest of fashions meant 2 days later because I refused to miss work to see those weirdo's with the white lab coats who like to ask silly questions, tell me it's all in my head and give me that "you're a crazy person", "whens my coffee break" glazed eyed look.

Lucky for me, the Dr. at the St.James Clinic didn't think I was weird at all.  In fact it was quite the opposite...he wondered why I hadn't come in sooner.  That's a joke all in itself but, I became a little concerned at that point.  What? You are not going to just tell me it's a virus, or stress and send me on my merry way?  WHAT?  He immediately left to get an Endocrinologist on the phone, to no avail (and he was seemingly flustered at this point) he advised me that I was to start taking Beta Blockers immediately as my pulse and blood pressure were abnormally high.  Personally, I thought being able to feel my heart beating all the time was perfectly normal, apparently I was incorrect in this assumption.  He muttered words like Hyperthyroidism, Thyroid Storm, Graves' Disease and that God forsaken "C" word but, would send me to that place where they harvest human blood for the vampire outbreak that's sure to come (otherwise known as the "lab") so he could gather more pertinent information. 

I have to admit, I was a little shell shocked, so I left and took my prescription to the conveniently located pharmaceutical drug dealer in the same building and got me some Beta Blockers....whatever those were.  I later found out they were to steady my heart so that it beat more efficiently.  I was told to go straight to the hospital without passing GO if my symptoms were to worsen, or I felt chest pain.  I know your thinking I slept happily ever after from this point forward....not quite.  Up all night, worried because I could not feel my heart beating and had a strange heaviness in my chest.  Boss orders me to go to the hospital, this is not normal, and she didn't seem to be buying my rationalization that they were side effects that I just "had to get used to". 

St.Boniface ER was an adventure in of itself but, there I was told to lower my dose of Beta Blockers, and also had results back from blood work that it was indeed Hyperthyroidism....sent on my merry way once more.  The meds were doing their job quite well now and I started to get some better rest...super!  Early in the week I received a call from the walk-in Dr, asking me to come in because his blood tests show antibodies which indicated Graves' Disease.  Long story, even longer he has now started me on anti-thyroid medications as I have Thyrotoxicosis and cannot wait for a specialist to start treatment.

Now the waiting begins, for an ultrasound on the goiter to see if I need to have it removed and also to see an Endocrinologist to discuss further courses of treatment.  I am not holding my breath, taking it one self loathing day at a time, determined to deal with it as best I can and only cry about it curled up in the shower fully clothed (for dramatic effect).



- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Thyroid Storm, your new favorite super hero)

This is Becoming a Food Blog

AJ has added Beef Bourguignon to his repertoire of cooking! I am determined to make this kid into a good cook, even if it takes me 2 days to make 1 meal. This weekend we made this uberly delicious melt in your mouth peasant dish and I have to say it will be on the menu again, one day, when I have limitless amounts of time to make it.

Some people just told me to make a simpler, less involved version but, Aidan and I braved the classic version, and we are darn proud! Aside from him acting like he was inebriated every time he smelled it, even after explaining to him numerous times that alcohol cooks off and cannot make you drunk, it was much fun. Plus, I just pretended that he was intoxicated off the delectable aromas of the dish and drank some more wine myself! So, in closing my kid knows how to make a bouquet garni, does yours?

Happy weekending!


- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka world class mom-cook)

A Boy's Place is in the Kitchen

Just a quick picture post this evening....will be posting an update very soon, lots of goings-on in the St.Godard House lately!  These pictures are from last weekend when Aidan and I decided to bake a Pumpkin Chiffon cake on Aidan's request that I "should bake more".  Apparently unbeknownst to me Mom's are supposed to bake ALL the time, go figure!  The squirt actually enjoys it in the kitchen so I've made it my personal mom mission to have him cooking me dinner and baking for me by the time he enters his teen years.  Last weekend he learned to crack and separate an egg and how to "fold" ingredients and also mastered the art of licking whipped cream off the beaters.  We're off to a great start! 

 
 

Until next time!

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Baker-Mom)