Speaking of Bullies...Underdogs, How Dare You?

Recently I was nominated for the Canadian Weblog Awards 2010 People's Choice category.  I believe it was this post that got me the nomination.  I kind of stepped out of my mundane journaling box with that post and the rest is history.

Once the voting started I believe I honestly didn't have a hope in hell to win, or even be in the top 3.  I am a blogging underdog,  who got stuck in a poll with a ruthless top dog.   Lucky for me I have a wonderful network full of people with OCD who actually care about me and wanted to see me kick some ass succeed...they worked diligently posting reference to my blog, emailing their entire contact lists, texting and talking, facebooking and sharing.  It fired my neurons with excitement, I actually had a chance.  This little unknown blogger gained some momentum and started to take the first place spot.  Then this ass came along.  She calls herself a minx but I think weasel (small, active predator, long and slender with short legs) would've been a better fit.

Then the hits came. More hits on my blog, more hits on the voting but,  the hits soon turned to punches.  Low blows like the one in my first paragraph which felt so good is totally beneath me, I realize that but, I have to add some sort of humor in all this, otherwise it's just not honestly me writing.

According to some my blog was a snore, I was cuckoo (okay that one was bang on), I was a terrible lazy blogger who had no right to go toe-to-toe, and then I was a cheater.  Interesting that I am a small-time blogger with a poor design and I don't rank on Alexa (whatever that is) but, I somehow can manage to cheat on a fucking web poll and masterminded the whole thing while I was working a full time job, preparing for 3 family Christmases, baking and decorating gingerbread cookies for bake sales, attending school concerts and travelling to 3 separate out of town gatherings?  I'm more talented than Harry Potter I ever thought....apparently.


The final straw was when I saw that comments were infiltrating the Weblog Awards themselves and the attackers mother was on there calling everyone hater trolls and the administrator of the awards was observantly irritated with what was going on.  It is the Canadian Weblogs Awards position to maintain a free and public award system which will not be tainted by the creators personal opinion or infiltrated to police nominees behavior surrounding the awards. At first I felt like this was a no contest plea by the administrator and just another bullying bystander who was not willing to intervene but, after processing a bit I understand the position completely and agree with it.  There will be no People's Choice category in 2011 to eliminate any small people from ruining incidence like this from ever happening again.

I hate that I've even been named or involved in this whole shenanigan and my only comfort is that I kept my dignity and moral footing.  A friend wrote to me "Rest assured that you were second technically, but ethically you came in first!"  That was much more important than winning any sort of popularity contest or winning something at any and all costs, even if it meant tearing apart the other contenders in the process.

I'm glad that I have arrived at the final stage of the Kübler-Ross model which generally refers to the process you go through in the face of tragedy but, I find it usually applies to most difficult situations that provoke thought or emotions.

Stage 1 - Denial:  "Oh no, she didn't" / "She can't be referring to me" / "If I just ignore it, it will go away"

Stage 2 - Anger:  "Why me?" / "What did I do to deserve such hateful attention?" / "I'm going to fire back, I don't care if it's not "big" of me." / "I wish I lived in Toronto, I find her and kick her in her opinion with my ninja boots."

Stage 3 - Bargaining:  "I will send her a nice message, ya that'll work, kill em' with kindness" / "If I win, it'll all be worth it so, it's all good."

Stage 4 - Depression:  "Ugh, I don't care anymore" / "I wish I was never nominated, never blogged, never did anything that people could criticize me for." / "It's all pointless and stupid, I just want to cry and sleep and cry some more."

Stage 5 - Acceptance:  "It's not the end of the world" / "I still have things to say" / "Who cares if 1 person thinks the worst of me, I am not the jackass whisperer."

I decided to withdraw from the voting because the whole thing got ugly and jaded and it just became about winning.  The original  meaning behind the award got thrown out the window and it wasn't fun anymore.  I'm happy that the attacker will win it, she deserves it and has worked hard to obtain it.  Blogging is something I do, it doesn't define me.  It is not my entire life, only the most significant a small part of it.  I certainly do not want to covet an award or need one for validation...feel free to nominate me for every category next year.

I believe the entire experience was a total pain in the ass lesson for me, I still have more to learn.  So I blog on, good or not, award worthy or not.

I would like to thank everyone who broke into houses to use alternate IP addresses read, voted and supported....sorry to have wasted your time and energy but, I felt like withdrawing was the only way to end this with my mind dignity intact.

Now for some lyrical genius by The Time totally related unrelated:

Body of a superstar
The mind of a 10-year-old
She wants 2 take U 4 a ride
The Stella has hair of gold
The lights are on upstairs
But is anybody home?
She's not lookin' 4 a man
The girly wants 2 be alone

She's the queen of glamorous, everything is right
All the fellas have a fit anytime she walks by
This woman would be dangerous if she had a mind
When Blondie tells U what U want 2 hear, don't waste your time

CHORUS:
And her name is Blondie, sexy socialite (Dumb blonde)
Diggin' out on the town any given night
And her name is Blondie, the queen of glamorous
And the game is money, the girl is dangerous

Her fatal beauty's blinding and her intentions not kind
She tried 2 take a part of me but I caught on in time
She lives a life of make believe, takes what she wants and leaves
Blondes, they do have more fun, but how dumb is she?

CHORUS

Blondie, my glamorous superstar
U took it much 2 far
And now U look like "What happened?"
Blondie, a dangerous socialite
She hangs out every night
And the neighborhood game is 2 dog U blind

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Moving on)

Santa Runs NAKED Through Winnipeg

I for one cannot actually believe this has happened.  Most likely because it didn't but....


Now that I have your attention you should take some time to fulfill every child's Christmas wish and vote for this blog by clicking the button:

Read this blog like it was your religion, send it to everyone you know and make ask them to read it too.  Please vote, it's for a good cause....my ego.

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (We're #1, We're #1)

From the Bully's Mouth

In light of all the media and social attention that has recently surrounded bullying (that we've already seem to have forgotten),  I've been doing a lot of thinking...I know, totally unusual for me.  When I was young I was a bully, a bad one....I doubt there was even a glimmer of a somewhat decent human being in me during my tween and teenage years.  I will get into it a little more in posts to come. 

I have pondered blogging about my experiences as a bully, from my perspective.  I've frantically searched the web for articles, blogs, anything that is expressed from a bully's (past or present) point of view.  Sadly, I found very few and nothing really substantial enough to mention.  Really, it brought me back time and time again to the same question.   How can we even begin to attack this issue without acknowledging why bullies bully?

I wholeheartedly agree that the bullied are victims.  They desperately need the helping hands and comforting voices of their communities, their peers and their authority figures to lift them up when they have been beaten down by words or physical aggression.  They need others to step in, for everyone to make it their business, to be their voice when it isn't heard, to help them overcome and preserve some sense of self-esteem.  I also believe the bullies are also victims, also in need of help but, not help just anyone can give them.

It saddens me that most of what I have seen in the media is empathy toward the bullied (good) but, the dehumanization of the bully (bad).  Bullies are people too, damaged people, sick people, abused people....I am surprised that many have just chosen to belittle, verbally abuse and degrade the bullies rather than consider that those very people were/are the ones that needed the help in the first place.  Like bullies are magically born that way, they just come out of the womb fists flying, armed with verbal ammunition waiting to be unleashed at the first vulnerable person to come along.  I doubt it.  Why people think they can solve a problem without focusing on the root source is beyond me and still has me perplexed. 

Psychology shows that it was once believed that bullies had low self esteem and knock others down to make themselves feel better.  It is now believed that most bullies simply act in this way because they have been bullied in some form at school or at home themselves.  In fact, bullies usually have good self-esteem but, use their aggressive ways as a form of anger management, it actually makes them feel better, gives them a sense of release.  Really all bullying needs to be addressed at the source, with the parents.   The cycle that is sometimes passed on by countless generations needs to be broken.

I've read blogs and articles that say that bullies just need compassion, they just need a hug.  That is such poppycock, I had people show me compassion when I was younger but, the reality is that I still had to go home at the end of the day. If you were to give me a hug, I was bound to give you a swift kidney shot and run away laughing.   I didn't have an extreme abusive upbringing but, there was a lot of emotional torment and I took on the role of mediator during a nasty prolonged divorce which in turn affected my development much more than I'm sure my parents realized. 

My saving grace was that my mother eventually had me "committed" to a psychiatric facility.  People make fun of me for it now, even I think the experience was rather comical...plus, it makes the awkwardness of me actually being in the nut house a lot more comfortable when you are able to laugh at it.  There my feelings were addressed, my parents were spoken to about how their actions affected my behaviour.  I believe they were told "you are killing your daughter."  I can't say that this totally transformed my family life, fact being that my parents still to this day cannot get along with each other but, things changed for me.  I was able to cope with my life a little better.  I stopped externalizing my feelings onto undeserving people.  I respected myself a little more, even better I respected other people and by the time I was 18 about one year later I was on a straight and narrow path where I was open to learn the lessons life had to teach me and to start evolving as a compassionate human being.  I wish it would have happened a lot sooner than that.  I would've saved myself and others a lot of trouble.

I still have "bully" tendencies.   Everytime I think I am about to be hurt a protective wall appears and garbage is literally spewed from my mouth in the attempt to intimidate the other person into believing I am right...about everything.  I work on those tendencies though, because I was given the tools to do so by counsellors, psychiatrists and psychologists. 

We are not all that blind, everyone can point out the bullies in children's lives early on.  I see the bullies in my son's group of friends even now.   I know who to keep my eye on...I think we all do to some extent.  My son has even participated in some forms of low-key bullying himself to fit in with those kids.  The first people I look at when Aidan does something that I feel is out of character is myself and my husband.  What did we do to make him feel like he needed to be mean to someone to fit in?  If I can't figure it out myself and change that thing within our home you'd better know that I would find a professional who could offer some insight before it got out of control.   

So, my plea is to the parents and caregivers.  Show the children empathy, teach them how to have some foresight as to how their actions can actually damage another person.  If you know the child is naturally aggressive or compulsive start teaching them early how to curb their aggression and how to handle conflict.  Show them how to be helpful and have a sense of community rather than helpless. 

Keep children social so they develop the skills and filter to know what is appropriate and what is not.  Enforce clear consequences and healthy consistent discipline so children learn to have respect for authority and understand proper conduct. 

Take an interest in children, monitor their activities and give them a sense of self.   Talk to them and listen to them, you'd be amazed at what you learn about their outside life from a dinner table conversation and a few questioned asked. 

Stop telling kids they are the best at everything.  Reality is they are not the best dancer, swimmer, skater, reader, wrestler, hula hoop er out there.  If they are the "best", everyone else is inferior to them.  Don't reward them for being the top dog, congratulate their efforts. 

Most of all teach them that compassion is not a weakness, love them unconditionally and make sure you show it so they feel it...don't just say it. 

Getting off my parental soapbox now.  No, really I am not a perfect parent, nor is my child perfect but, I am always trying to improve.  In my short-term experiences thus far and from observation and research I think these are key things to preventing bully-minded children.  I could be way off base. 

I really honestly believe the parents (or caregivers) are the only one's who can cease the bullying.  They need to care enough to look in the mirror and figure out what they are doing wrong.  If there is a child that you know is a bully, in whatever form grow a pair and talk to the parent/caregiver you could make them see something they didn't realize was there.  If you can't muster up the courage, talk to their school, daycare or in extreme situations child protection agencies.  Believe it or not some parents actually want to know how their children are behaving the 10 hours a day they are away from them....as for the others, all you can do is try.   

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Reformed bully wanting to save others the trouble)

Sleep Deprivation and the Blue Screen of Death

Oy, I am running on empty lately, it makes me kind of fun though...at least I think so. I am forever shocked at the energy that comes pouring out of me when I am sleep deprived.  It's like I am on an extreme high all the time but, never cross the line into complete psychosis (again, my opinion). 

The reason I haven't been getting adequate beauty rest is that my best friend has died, sad I know.  Luckily, there are places I can take her to be revived, if not but only for her memory.  I knew this day was coming, I anticipated it but, foolishly did not prepare for it...some kind of mental block prevented me from preserving her hard work, the pictures locked up safely inside of her among many other things about her that have left a shortcoming on my life these past few days.  I tried so hard to bring her back on my own, stayed up all hours of the night tinkering and thinking to no avail.  I must succumb and now bring her to a miracle worker in hopes that at least some of her inner workings can be restored.    For now, I've had to learn to rely on my 8 year olds best friend which I'm grateful to have but, it's just not the same.

Sometimes I wonder how stupid a person (meaning this person) can be...I've had an external hard drive sitting on my desk for almost a year now.  My husband bought it for me last year for Christmas because I was forever in a panicked state by the thought that I had waaay to much information on my hard drive to even begin uploading it to disk at that point but, no back up.  My life is on that thing, as pathetic as that sounds...if my information cannot be recovered it may be the straw that breaks the camels back, or the straw that sends me into hysteria which is likely to make the evening news.  The worst part about it, is that it's my own damn fault.  No, actually the worst part about it is that this is not the first time I've done it.

Wonder if I will learn my lesson this time?

The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Stupid is, as stupid does)

Tubby Tuesdays Three

 Why did I start this?  Would someone please talk some damn sense into me when I get on the crazy train and make commitments like this.  Now, every Tuesday I have to sit down and get introspective on my feelings towards being overweight.  I was going to skip today's post and see if anyone noticed but, I've also started a bucket list and on it is to always "follow through", so now I'm doubly screwed.

Recent developments in the medical mystery that is my life has prevented me from even thinking about going to that dark place where I exercise and actually do something beneficial for my body.  My doctor feels an arrhythmia is my pulse so I'm getting a fancy Holter Monitor to wear around for a day (not my idea of great fashion statement).  I still think this is all related to Graves' Disease so not too annoyed worried but, I am totally exhausted daily so I don't think I can even scrape up the energy to do much else than what I need to or sit on my butt and blog.  As stated before I'm hoping early 2011 will bring some solid answers so I can put together a plan without any guesswork involved.  I have to say that this second bout of short-term setbacks in the health department have really made me want to grasp some sort of vitality, slowly my mindset is changing yet again towards wanting a life full of wellness.  Hindsight....always hindsight, let's pray I learn my lesson this time.

Still making small changes, in preparation for a healthier me...once I escape from this dark place in the corner of my mind and can actually set something in motion.  Still with the water, the night eating remains at a much lower consistency (but, it's still there), PGX Daily is still steady and this week I've begun to automate my breakfasts.

This is a very important step for us food addicts to take.  Breakfast is single-handedly the most important meal of the day.  If you haven't heard this before you have been living under a rock, you could also be deaf which is not funny.  The best way to ensure you get the most benefit out of breakfast and to break the temptation of  ripping your bosses delicious toasted white bread english muffin with melt-y salted butter on top right out of her hands and stuffing it in your mouth is to automate it.  No thinking, no swaying and you do it in such a manner to where you know you are putting some quality fuel into that soon to be hot bod of yours, if only but, once a day.  I find that as soon as I start to think about food or planning a meal, all my senses become alive and my mind starts reeling on whether I'm making the right choices, I can get obsessive about the "healthy" food I'm about to ingest which is the very behaviour I want to change.  First, I must establish a routine, break certain taste habits and the only way to do this is by repetition and the elimination of thought.

Everyday I eat this:

1 serving (with 1% milk or Rice milk) of Eco-Planet hot cereal

1 serving fruit (banana, orange, berries or an apple)

1 boiled Free Range Omega 3 Egg   -or-  1 serving low fat yogurt

It's easy, it's healthy and although I was fairly pouty about it the first few days, I now actually look forward to eating it every morning....especially the cereal, it's so darn delicious and easy!  The best part is that I don't have to think about what I'm going to eat because that's usually when I make the worst decisions.

Oh wow, my husband is running on the treadmill behind me and the noise is making me feel a little homicidal....must hurt Hasslehoff wannabe.....whatever I'll catch up, don't you worry. 

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Shakin' my money maker...waiting for it to stop jiggling)

Fork in the Road

Today is Monday, it's a good day for a personal crisis, well I thought so.  Damn bloggers, you are single- handedly ruining my life, you'd better hope something good comes of it because I know where you blog....that is without a doubt NOT a threat.

I think I've officially given up on Reverb10, although it was a nice frame of mind to be in even for but a moment, to commit to something for 31 days, it was just another thing that I wanted to do but, couldn't find the time.  I guess I could be writing one right now instead of this but, I much prefer to be narcissistic and write about myself than respond to a prompt.   

Things come into your life when you need them to, at the precisely the right time that they will actually mean something and inspire you to think of things in a whole new light.  Sometimes you just have to open your eyes and allow yourself to see.  So maybe I'm not able to fully commit to Reverb10 because I am just too lazy busy right now, however through it I stumbled upon an insane amount of posts from inspiring writers with valuable lessons to teach.

One of the thoughts that surfaced most often when reading was what part of my life, or what I "do" with my life rather, is actually significant?  I've always just settled with the notion that I do my best and I am currently raising a child so that should be adequate.  I mean raising a child, growing an adult, someone who is going to be a contributing member of society one day and if all goes well a betterment to the world.  Is that enough?  I used to think so....today, not so much. 

I read blog after blog, written words that were drawn from huge inspiration.  People who have fought cancer, travelled the world, taken in the needy or physically disabled, stood up for the abused and neglected.  People who have conquered the obesity battle, have overcome their darkest fears, have lost a child, have struggled through poverty and adversity.  People who make me question if anything I'm doing is actually going to matter, make a difference or nurture change.

This is definitely something I am going to ponder over the next few weeks.  I feel a bucket list coming on....squee!   No really...if the new year is meant to bring resolution then for 2011 I will focus on taking less and giving more.  I think Aidan has approached the age where it is important for him to start learning how to pay it forward, more than just theoretically.  He understands that giving back and doing for others is important, I'm just not sure he is mindful about anything beyond what Lego set he wants next.

We have definitely led by example in helping our community and people we are close with, I'm just not sure we've really ventured out too far beyond that scope in a meaningful way. 

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better.  It's not." 

~Dr. Seuss

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Mulling it over, one day at a time)

Boy in the Kitchen, Episode 5

The boy in the kitchen is wearing me out!  You know when you start a tradition with your child and at first, it's all rainbows and gumdrops, then it gets a little tedious, and finally it becomes your worst nightmare (okay maybe that's just me)....we've officially crossed over to the dark side. 

I've created an 8 year old obsessive cooking psycho-child.  He is relentless and now has me making two things on Sundays and is slowly trying to brainwash coerce me into Saturdays too.

Why couldn't I have just taught the kid to order pizza and do laundry?  Not to mention he is a total control freak like me his dad and now he has to do ALL the steps himself, except for the mixing because his arms will fall off so he appoints me to that torture job.  You see pictures of him making Cheesy Quinoa Crackers....you don't see that we also made Chocolate Cinnamon Shortbread which has an aftertaste of baking soda because he insisted on doing it himself.  Guess who's having shortbread for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next 2 weeks?

All joking and wasted money aside, I am really proud of him for being so pushy dedicated to cook each week.  We do enjoy spending the time together even though sometimes he notices me giving him the stink eye from across the room and then "accidentally" spills sesame seeds all over the floor.
 The nicest part about it is that because he is doing most of the "work" now, he just bolts out of the room once everything is in the oven.  I call him back to help clean and his response was "You always tell my Dad that whoever doesn't cook has to clean." 

I'm so happy to see my little kitchen Nazi boy growing up and developing his own interests and passions.  I still hope that one day this will all pay off and I won't have to do it anymore will come home to prepared delicious meals and baked goods.

Until then, I keep cooking with the cutest boy in the kitchen!  Apparently, next weekend we are making eggnog because the stuff we buy in the carton at the store is now beneath him.  Lord, help me Can't wait!

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Kitchen Slave)

Reverb10 - Day 8 - Beautifully Different

I am taking part in #Reverb10 an annual online initiative to reflect on the year past and manifest what's next. Everyday in December there is a prompt on where to direct your writing attention....I am 3 days behind but, had to skip forward to this prompt immediately! Take a gander at Reverb10 and participate!

Day 4 - Beautifully Different
Prompt: Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful. (Author: Karen Walrond)


I am completely dumbfounded and amazed at the whirlwind of emotions this prompt has brought upon me. Even though I am behind on the others, this one prompt has engulfed my very being and I need to release it.

My day began as usual:  Checked the prompt, started mulling it over, mind creatively spinning.  Today was different.....there was nothing except confusion.

Different?  What makes someone different?  Why am I different?  I'm not, am I? 

I posted the question on my Facebook page, nothing.  Posted on my blog page, I think I heard crickets.  Eventually my Mom responded by saying I was candid.  Yes, this is true but, lots of people are....what a dull world it would be if everyone kept their thoughts, experiences and opinions isolated.  She was the only one.  This prompted more thinking:

•  I need to get better Facebook friends but, what are "better" friends and where can I find them?
• Facebook is not the forum for this type of thing....I have no problem getting "likes" or responses when I post something totally idiotic or non-earth shattering
• Most of my Facebook friends are illiterate
•  I am not different

I have "felt different" but, don't consider this to be a good thing.  Feeling different in ways that meant I didn't fit in, wasn't worthy of belonging to a particular group of people that maybe, in someway, I admired.  Too different to even attempt having meaningful human connections, feeling almost alien to the world surrounding me.  The more I opened up to people, the more "candid" I became, the more people told me I wasn't so different, they felt the same way.  It took many sleepless nights for me to work through the fact that my feelings were not different, like it took away a part of me, even if it was a bad part.  The thought that other people had these same feelings invalidated them, they were no longer mine.  What I eventually realized was that I was not alone, not weird, not crazy, not different.

What makes me beautiful is not how I am unlike others because when I listen to people, even a little I find the likenesses are plentiful.  I am surely unique, one of a kind but, different than different.  That, readers, is the paradox I've been dealing with all day....and I'm tired.

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (not different)

Reverb10 - Day 4 - Wonder

I am taking part in #Reverb10 an annual online initiative to reflect on the year past and manifest what's next. Everyday in December there is a prompt on where to direct your writing attention....I am 3 days behind gak! Take a gander at Reverb10 and participate!

Day 4 - Wonder

Prompt: How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Author: Jeffrey Davis)

Finally! A prompt I can actually just sit down and write about without giving my brain a creative hernia! 

This year along with the past 8 years I have cultivated a sense of wonder by attempting to raise a child.  My son is full of wonder.  Each day new moments present that are brand new to his experience, and lucky me as his Mom, I get to for a second time in my life (the first being when I was a child) relive wonder in all it's mighty splendor. 

My life with him is full of wondrous moments.   He has the uncanny ability to find it in the tiniest details like why cupcakes in the oven fluff up and rise.  I know it's because we've added baking powder and he believes it's magic....more often than not, he convinces me of the same.  The larger details of life such as God, the universe and death are awesomely mysterious to his unspoiled mind.  While I do my best to guide him, he also cultivates a sense of wonderment in me, giving me a perspective I may otherwise not have had.

It is my unwritten duty as a mother to preserve his inborn sense of wonder.  I continue to cultivate it never off-putting it, allowing it to permeate my soul.

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Wonder Woman)

Tubby Tuesdays Two

One day, I'll be as skinny as this giraffe

So I promised to be accountable, and I'm delivering.  I have to say that I totally sucked this past week in the weight department but, I did make a few small changes that are worth celebrating (please send congratulatory money via Paypal, all major credit cards accepted).  Small steps are really all I can manage right now without accumulating assault charges against unsuspecting people but, am crossing my fingers that I will get some firmer answers and solutions in the upcoming weeks in regards to the medical issues I've been having and then I can do more.

This week I was able to religiously take my PGX Daily , they lower the glycemic index of your food, make you fuller faster so you don't over stuff your face as I am prone to doing (especially when there is sugary goodness involved) and keep you satisfied longer.  I've witnessed client after client use this strategy and if taken properly it can be a really great tool to help you lose weight safely and efficiently.  So I can't say that I've really lost any weight as of yet because of it but, I do notice immediate results when it comes to the plumbing.  This is one of the most important steps when it comes to weight loss, or trying to obtain optimum health and if you ain't doing some good work on the shitter, good luck with everything else.  Just ask Dr.Oz, he'll tell you and you can hear him say the word "poop" which is always good for a laugh.

Another thing I've tried (not really hard) to do is stop my night eating.  No food after supper (yeah right).  Okay, but, I have replaced the nachos and Slurpee's with better options such as popcorn (and NOT the movie theater style either) and water.  This is something I still need to master and is probably my biggest downfall.  There were a couple nights where I did manage to stay away from food all together and surprisingly I had this strange feeling called hunger when I woke up in the morning, I did practically knocked over AJ in a mad dash to the pantry in the morning looking for something, anything to stop those unsettling growling noises coming from my abdominal region.  I'm assuming this means that I allowed my body to actually digest a meal before shovelling more food into it and I'm sure my metabolism was frantically searching all night for food reserves and when it didn't find any started throwing a temper tantrum inside my stomach (hence the grumbling and pangs).

Water is the third and final thing I attempted this week.  Drinking enough of it that is.  Another one of my fat pitfalls and such a chore for me to change.  Because I also drink coffee, in turn I have to drink MORE water than usual as coffee dehydrates you after more than 1 cup (I have about 632).  I think I'm averaging about 4-5 cups of water daily now.....long way to go but, I'll get there.  I should probably just stop drinking coffee, I wonder what life is like when it's not moving at the speed of light?  I wouldn't bet the farm on it if I were you, I do not see caffeine withdrawal in my near future.

So I think I've attempted to do the 3 most important first steps to weight loss...Poop (ha-ha),  no feeding  Gremlins myself after dinner or choose healthier snack options and hydrate.  I will perfect these and hopefully add some motion to my plan with medieval torture methods otherwise known as exercise....excuse me while I go wash my mouth out with soap for saying such a dirty word. 

I leave you with this thought from Queen:  "Fat bottom girls, you make the rockin' world go round."

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper

AWOL Boy in the Kitchen, Episode 4

Boy in the Kitchen was unfortunately sick on Sunday when our cooking extravaganza was scheduled.  He woke up in the morning, ate his breakfast but, then his father practically force fed him one of those delicious mini-oranges (in AJ's opinion).  His father was forewarned that there would be regurgitation and indeed, there was. 

I was busy on the phone making possible plans to go sledding but, he already had plans to go skating, it was all so confusing.  It's a hard job being AJ's personal assistant and I don't get paid nearly enough to be doing it.  In mid-conversation I said "Oh, looks like tobogganing is out, I think I heard AJ throwing up."  pretty nonchalantly I might add.  Hung up, went downstairs to find kid hugging toilet, pants around ankles and husband glaring at me like I should have been there for the big event.

Everything seemed to be under control so I left ninja quick before AJ could spot me and use his Jedi mind tricks to lure me into the puking mess and be the official back rubber.  I've had to deal with my fair share of puke disasters in his lifetime, and this one was relatively low key...bailing was definitely an option.  It was short lived, he stumbled out of the bathroom in no time, flopped dramatically onto the couch and curled up into a ball.  At this point Judd and I started asking him a question about skating, unsure why really...the kid is sick and we are concerned about whether he actually likes skating?  AJ half answers most of the questions and then exclaims "Look you guys, I don't want to talk right now."  Okay, we get him off to his bed, tuck him in tight and he sleeps for the majority of the day.  No more throwing up, nothing.

I suspect that the "sickness" stemmed from him eating most of the chips and dip I put out the night before on his own (meant for 3 people) while I was distracted by the need to reposition all the Christmas ornaments on the tree that were incorrectly placed.  I think he also ate about 12 Ferrero Rocher chocolates but, who can be sure?

Luckily, he had begged, whined and pleaded nicely asked  on Saturday if we could make Applesauce Oatmeal muffins together so it wasn't a total cooking loss.  I have been making these for years and they are a favorite in this house.  I stopped making them because the slave drivers boys were eating over a dozen of them a week and just kept demanding asking for more.  I hadn't made them in such a long while, I was happy to do so.  Baking is getting relatively easy for me now as AJ can do most of the work.  He gathers the ingredients, preheats the oven, measures everything....all I have to do is most of the mixing because his arm would fall off otherwise (or so he tells me) and putting things in and out of the oven (because I think AJ needs the use of his hands for as long as possible).  I did make one mistake, gave him a little leeway with the recipe and he ran with it, to the extreme.  Raisins are optional in the recipe but, we like them so I told him to put as much as he wanted but, gave him a clue as to how much.  I SAW him put in 1/4 cup (good measure I thought).....I didn't see him put in the other half cup and wondered why the batter looked so raisin condensed.  The muffins were good as usual but, mostly taste like raisins.  Those who know me well would be awfully proud of me to give him such freedom with the raisin adding, generally I am more of a control freak recipe follower.

Ended up making Latkes (potato pancakes) and Chicken Matzo Ball Soup all on my own on Sunday.  AJ learned about Hanukkah last week in school and he loooooves Latkes so I was forced happy to try my hand at some traditional Jewish cuisine.  I have made Latkes and Chicken Soup (from scratch) before but, never Matzo balls so this was a new feat for me!  I had fun talking to myself in the kitchen but, I did miss the boy.

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Undercover Ninja)

Reverb10 - Day 3 - Moment

I am taking part in #Reverb10 an annual online initiative to reflect on the year past and manifest what's next. Everyday in December there is a prompt on where to direct your writing attention....I am 3 days behind gak! Take a gander at Reverb10 and participate!

Day 3- Moment
Prompt: Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)

I think you would agree that there are many moments throughout the year that one feels alive.  The moment that is most prevalent for me in 2010 is the first time I went to visit my Mom at her new home in St.Malo.

My mother purchased a quaint cottage like home 1 hour from the city in the happy town of St.Malo.  At the end of the school year my son was going to stay out there for a few weeks and I made the executive decision to do an overnight stay with them before heading home solo.  The car was loaded with his necessary take along items and we were ready to hit the open road. 

The drive to St.Malo is one of my most favorite parts.  AJ is occupied in the back seat with a portable video game, we crank up the tunes to a level where the only options are to think or sing (we do both).  It is a perfect day, the sky is dense with a cool blue color, the clouds are sparse and appear as tufts of crisp white smoke along the horizon.  The temperature is moderate, the sun beats in through all the car windows as if to warm our souls in preparation for the visit. 

There is little traffic as we turn onto the highway, and we are free to take in the glorious prairie view which is full of life at this time of year.  The landscape is full of vivid color.  Lush green native grasses, a brilliant yellow radiates from the tiny budded flowers of the canola fields and just when it seems to get repetitive you'll spot a vast mosaic of wild flowers with fragrant pastel petals, a serene picture amongst a living canvas.   Every so often AJ will lift his head when I point out a herd of cattle, he waves and exclaims "Hello cows!", I join in.  Talking to cows through the car window going 100 km/hour never gets old.  There is road kill along the way but, we ignore it because we are in a happy place now.  An occasional retched scent of a slaughterhouse or pig barn of some sort wafts through the car until one of us exclaims "Who tooted?" followed by the harmonious reciprocation of "You did!"

An hour later, maybe less dependent on how much I was speeding quickly traffic was moving we arrive at our destination.  Both of us quickly throw open our doors, step out and breathe, just breathe.  The air is it's own entity here, so clean it fills our lungs with life, calms our hearts and engages our spirits.  It's warm with a slow flowing breeze.  The kind that moves not only around you but, through you.  How can it be so different here than in the city? We don't know and don't care.  We respect it and enjoy it, we are free to be, just be.

The beach is just down the gravel road, we grab our gear and head out.  My son is lit up from the inside out, fluttering with excitement and I feel like I'm 8 all over again.  "Let's go Mom, let's go!" Our footsteps become faster as we draw near, the grit of the gravel under foot becomes louder, each pace filled with more anticipation than the last.  I sit and chat with Mom on the beach allowing the sun to penetrate my skin and warm me from the inside out.  My muscles begin to relax, the stresses of life start to float up from my shoulders as if I could wave them good-bye as they go.  Suddenly AJ's full attention is on nature, playing with the motion of the water, tiny snails and schooling minnows have replaced his video game in an instant. Perfection.

As the day slowly turns into night and the sunset fills the great room of my mothers house with the most magnificent light we prepare to decompress further by an open fire. Roasted marshmallows are on the menu and as I pull the fluffy white squares from the bag I am flooded with memories from my own childhood, a simpler time where small things were appreciated and the daily grind was nonexistent.  AJ and I compete for the perfect marshmallow, each using the utmost care to not to burn them in the process.  We both enjoy pulling the golden brown crust off to expose the flawless gooey center, victory is ours!

The hours pass and we all sit in our respective chairs that surround the fire, sinking further and further into them as we tilt our heads back slightly to gaze up at the star lit sky.  We talk about things not of consequence, drifting in and out of silence while memorized by the dancing flames of the fire and the glowing orange embers beneath it.  The fire dies down in the wee hours of the morning and we depart to our beds.  A cool breeze flows in from the window, there is no intrusive street light to break through the curtains so I can leave them open and allow the dawn to wake me (then I get up and close them so I can sleep until noon). 

Everything is calm.  Only in the distance can you hear the bug zapper as it annihilates thousands of mosquitoes and the deep moan of the stray cats in heat.  I am lulled into slumber where I dream of what St.Malo will bring tomorrow and how it felt to be truly alive, even if only for an instant.


- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (J'adore St.Malo)

Reverb10 - Day 2 - Writing

I am taking part in #Reverb10 an annual online initiative to reflect on the year past and manifest what's next.  Everyday in December there is a prompt on where to direct your writing attention....I am 2 days behind gak!  Take a gander at Reverb10 and participate!

Day 2 - Writing

Prompt: What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it? (Author: Leo Babauta)

My mother kept a journal from the time I was a newborn up until about the 2nd year of my life.  I cannot recall when the first time she revealed it to me but, I can remember the pages flipping through my fingers, my heart racing with unequivocal joy as I absorbed each inked word into my very soul.   I am certain she didn't realize at the time of writing it, what a cherished gift this would come to be for me.  I have read it many times since it's introduction and the same question surfaces each and every read.  Why does my mother not write more, and more often?  She is undoubtedly one of the most gifted writers whose words I have had the delight of reading.  Her reply haunts the word slinger in me each time I position myself to create.

"There is no original thought, it has all been written or said before."

There is NO original thought.  So what is the point?  It hinders my process frequently.  I am, on good days a free flowing writer.  I do not stop to ponder the words that are pouring out of me, I just let it be and edit at completion.   When her words pop into my head {no original thought}, It nullifies everything I was about to say, the meaning behind the words diminishes so much so that they are no longer worth the paper/screen they are on.

I attempt (more successful than not) to eliminate this way of thinking by incessantly repeating the following words in my head as I furiously type out the upchuck of my mind;  If the words are there but, I have yet to read them, has it really been written at all?  Mostly a tree falling in the woods analogy and consequently not an original thought.

More than likely her words reign true, there is no original thought, how can there be?  If I have yet to read it, it does not exist for me therefore it is my original thought.  Many of the best writings are based on an unoriginal thought anyway, with each individual writers personal twist.  Therefore, I write on. 

- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Still encouraging my Mom to write)

Reverb10 - Day 1 - One Word

I am taking part in #Reverb10 an annual online initiative to reflect on the year past and manifest what's next.  Everyday in December there is a prompt on where to direct your writing attention....I am 3 days behind gak!  Take a gander at Reverb10 and participate!


Day 1 - One Word

Prompt: Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? (Author: Gwen Bell)

To ask me to encapsulate an entire year with one solitary word had proven to be quite a challenge for me but, I think {DEFEATED} was the most prominent feeling for me this year, and if the glove fits....

New Years 2010, I was on the couch, alone recovering from an emergency salpingo-oophorectomy (removal of 1 fallopian tube and ovary) due to a ruptured ectopic pregnancy.   This was subsequent to a miscarriage only 2 months earlier.

Everything about me was broken.  My physical being, my spirit but, mostly my heart.  I was utterly broken. I believed in my mind that I was a failure, I could not "normally" conceive our second child and the universe was telling me I didn't deserve it, it wasn't mine to have.   It took the greater portion of the year to actually convince myself to move on from that.  I became a little more isolated, a little more jaded and made the decision not to attempt conception again, I would never go through that again.  I couldn't, I was defeated.

For 2011, I have a brighter view.  Things occur only because they are meant to.  That is the simple reasoning which helps me carry forward, when nothing makes sense and the world is on my shoulders.  I am currently undergoing the diagnosis process for yet another medical issue and I anticipate that the word {ACCEPTANCE} will manifest for me this upcoming year.

Acceptance that everything is as it should be.   That the things I need to change will do so only by determination, strength and the belief that they will.  Accepting myself for who I am and my offerings to the world no matter how small they may be.  Accept others, for who they are and the uniqueness they each represent.  Perhaps most importantly, acceptance that destiny cannot be created.  I do not have the power to alter what will be, only how I let it affect me.


- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Reflecting, manifesting, 1 day at a time)

This N' That Plus Everything Else

I know you all thought that the looming holiday season had emerged already.  Some of you with OCD have even put up the trees and decorations I'm sure.  Not to burst your bubble but, you were falsely informed.  The holiday's have officially begun but, only because I put on my Santa socks this morning. 

AJ has torn into his 2nd day on the Playmobil advent calendar, I believe he received wings for the Playmobil figure that he was awarded on day 1 of the calendar.  I think I was equally excited getting it for him as he is in having it.  Lucky kid, I remember my advent calendars being full of shitty chocolate that would somehow always manage to slither it's way out of the designated window to the bottom of the box and half the time I would open the day (with eager anticipation of the shitty chocolate) only to find that another one had escaped.  I would also usually be so impatient with the whole "one a day" concept that by the first week, I had already opened, eaten and re closed every window, hoping my parents wouldn't notice. 

Whilst buying the advent calendar, I purchased another (rather large) Playmobil set.  It came in THIS awesome gargantuan bag.  I love this bag, it is unlike any other bag.  I folded it up nice and put it in a special place in my home.  I will use it again, one day for things even unknown to me.  I may just take it out once in a while to make me smile.  Look at the Playmobil men and women, so happy, so carefree.  No wonder Aidan is so joyous after playing with these wee little men.

This is my husband to the right....he does P90X in hopes that one day I will not trade him in for a cabana boy.  He's a generous husband to be so diligent in looking good for me.  I make sure not to give him any of my nachos and cheese because I want him to reach his goal and I suspect it is rather difficult to find a cabana boy when I am seriously lacking in the cabana department.  Sometimes, I also like to support him by taking pictures right in the middle of the intense workouts, just so he is fully aware that I appreciate the effort he is making.

In conclusion, my new favorite thing (because I'm Oprah) are these tiny little clementine oranges.  I slightly recall a friend recommending them to me last year but, I believe I was in a "I don't buy anything from China" frame of mind and wouldn't even exercise the thought of purchasing them.  Do they even come from China?  Whatever, I was missing out.  Big time.  My hand likes to eat them too, which was not what the picture was intended to demonstrate but, there it is and the proof is always in the puddin'.  If you haven't tried them already, I suggest you leave your house immediately and find the nearest store that sells them.  Try not to devour the whole box, I dare you.

Rambling on:  When I went outside today, the snow falling was so fair that it became luminous.  It was like Mother Nature was doing a craft project and accidentally spilled her glitter dust all over the sky.  For some reason, it reminded me that life is so much more paramount than just what is current and happening to you.  It's the small things you pay attention to, that make the hard things almost insignificant.


- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (Deep in thought)

My Loose Screw Fell Out

Yesterday I was all kinds of crazy.

My day started off seemingly normal, got up, cup of joe, walked zombie-like around the house mumbling to myself, deliriously rummaging through clean laundry Mount Everest to find work pants which will need to go in the dryer again for 5 minutes because I am too lazy to iron them and seriously lagging in the putting away laundry department.  I did one thing different...no Beta Blocker.  Figured my pulse was normal, no palpitations that I could feel so I must not need them....I would wait until I felt like I needed them....yeah, that's a good plan.  Turns out, probably not, go figure.

Continuing the day.....go to work, forgot to do about half of my month end duties then the call from the Endocrinologist's office.   "Hello Sarah, Dr. Moron doesn't know why you were referred to her because your thyroid levels are normal."  I explain to her my symptoms, the goiter and the tachycardia.  "Well, Dr. Moron would like you to come to Timbuktu on Friday  and wait 16 and a half hours at the busiest lab in the world because we know you have nothing better to do, and have a 5th blood test done that will show us the exact same results.  Then Dr. Moron will decide if you should be seen by her."   This conversation started a wave of what I will call "psychotic episodes" for lack of a better description.

Called my Dr's office.  "Um, could you have my Dr. call me please?"

Receptionist: "Um, doctors don't call patients."

My other personality (the not nice one that belongs in a straight jacket):  "I don't really give a s**t WHAT doctors DON'T DO, I've been taken off my anti-thyroid medication, don't know if I should take my Beta Blockers and now the Endocrinologist doesn't know why I've been referred to her!!!  Have my DOCTOR CALL ME!"

Receptionist:  " I will give her the message."

I felt pretty good about myself at that point, look at me go all intimidating and stuff.   Starting to feel a little off at this point, my boss is looking at me kind of funny and asking why I have so much energy.  I get her to take my blood pressure and pulse and then spend the rest of the day walking around with the blood pressure cuff hanging off my arm so I could check it at 10 second intervals, having tremors that I'm sure were registering on the Richter Scale and found myself getting progressively more aggressive towards everything in general.

Came home, walked 20 miles on the treadmill before realizing it wasn't plugged in.  Had a nice lady Dr. friend put things into some sort of perspective for me and made me a little more at ease about the conversation earlier with Dr. Moron's assistant.  Then my husband came home.......I should stop the writing here because once I continue you will really know crazy and it's name starts with a "Sarah is".

Husband was a little quiet, started making dinner but, in my world he was quiet because he was mad at me for not starting dinner, he was pouting because he was making dinner and how dare he NOT care about what was going on with me.  So I started talking to him (which strangely he perceived as yelling), honestly I can't even remember what I said but, I knew it didn't make sense even as I was saying it.  That didn't stop me though.

Proceeded to then call my Mom, and ask her if it was an option for me to stay there (in her house about an hour away, with the highways and the snow, 1 bedroom and of course I was bringing Aidan)  I figured this was a perfectly rational plan.  Good for me.  Back to husband, tell him I am leaving with Aidan (if he wants to come) until I am better because right now I cannot deal with him being mad at me for not making dinner when I have all this crap to deal with.  At this point he has already mentioned at least 36 times that he is not mad at me for anything, just tired and wanted to get dinner done and over with.

Go into Aidan's room, I am concerned that he has heard us fighting and saw on Dr.Phil that this irreparably damages your child to the point that they will become a serial killer.  He is reading a book.

Crazy Mom: "Hey buddy, can I talk to you for a minute?"

AJ:  "Sure"

Crazy Mom:  " Are you upset that Dad and I were fighting just now"

AJ: "No, not really."

Crazy Mom:  "Did you hear me say that I am going to Beppe's (what he calls my Mom)?"

AJ: "Yes"

Crazy Mom:  "Do you think that's a better idea than me and Dad fighting?"

AJ: " Ummmm, I don't really care, can I read my book now?"

Crazy Mom: "Do you want to come, or stay here with Dad?"

AJ: "Well, Beppe does have a fire pit but, wouldn't I have to get up earlier than usual to get to school on time?  I would rather stay here but, I would miss you and how would I cook with you on Sunday?"

At this point I realize that I am talking to an 8 year old who bases his decisions on who has a fire pit.  This is going nowhere fast.  Irreparably damaging, yeah right.  Thanks for making me look like a fool Dr.Phil, because otherwise I appear perfectly normal.

Called my Mom back to tell her it's a no go.  Interestingly she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief but, in my crazy state I probably only thought it was relief when really she was upset because she wanted to see me so badly, who doesn't?  Gave AJ a hug, told him not to worry and everything would be okay (not like he was worried....at all).  Took a Beta Blocker and WHAM....felt better within 10 minutes....that's strange, I thought and then thought nothing more of it.  Until today.....

I did the same thing all over again, no Beta Blocker, crazy, blood pressure cuff dragging on arm, tremors, collapsed in the door after work, took a Beta Blocker and magically better again.  I'm beginning to suspect a pattern.

On a side note, here is the message I left for my boss so she knew to get more half & half for the office.  I think at some point I also called her a dinosaur because she didn't use on-line banking.  She reminded me who signed my paycheck...I'm not sure why?


- The St.Godard Brood Keeper (aka Super Intuitive Child Psychologist)