GIST#35 of 365

1) My little guy is growing up so fast. . . Which is both sad and amazing. . . He's got his first teeth!

2) He hasn't tried to bite me with them!

3) I feel great after my work out today!

4) Home made veggie pizza was waiting for me when I got home from the gym.

5) Das Piper got a hair cut, and it looks fabulous!


Be Kind to Pedestrians!

Here is a copy of the angry letter I have just sent to Boardwalk Rental Communities. I wanted to share it here just to underline the point I've made in the letter that I not only don't recommend their company, but am absolutely and full heartedly in favour of taking the people who run and own this company, tying them to trees, and giving everyone who has ever had the misfortune of doing business with them the opportunity to throw rotten garbage at them.

I think they must be aware of their own ass-hattery as they have removed the 'complaints' section of their "contact us" page since the last time I had to write them an angry letter, so I had to sent it as a "rental enquiry".

Dear Boardwalk;
This is just a reminder that in the city of ******, ****. your company is responsible for the maintenance of all public sidewalks that border your property. The reason I felt the need to remind you of this is that in the 5 blocks along south *** ******, from my apartment (That I do not and would never rent from you.) to the bus stop at the ****** **** ******** ******, your properties were the only ones not cleared of snow at 6 o'clock this evening. Even after the incredibly large snow fall we had last night and today, every apartment manager in every one of the buildings on this street not owned by your company had managed to clear the sidewalks, on a Saturday no less! I should think, what with the sky high, and practically criminal, amounts of money that you charge your tenants for rent, that you would be able to afford to have someone take care of that. This is just one of the many reasons why I will never rent from your company, and will continue to tell every person I know that being homeless would be preferable to doing business with you.

Thank you so much for your time.

Angry pedestrian:
J***** W**********



I am fat. I have always been fat. . . Well maybe not always. There were a few years when I was a small child where I was positively scrawny. But for all of my adult life I have been fat.

That isn't to say that I haven't experienced times in my life where I felt healthy and attractive, though I am certainly not going to win any self esteem awards I have spent a lot of my adult life feeling just fine about my curves.

Now is not one of those times in my life. At this moment, I feel like a disgusting blob. A feeling only encouraged by the regrowth of a problem that I had undergone surgery to get rid of.

That's right; my breasts, due to breast feeding. Have nearly doubled in size. Leaving me only two cup sized away from my pre surgery, back killing, disgusting, sagging, stretch marked knockers. And even if they aren't quite as bad as that, it's still hard to feel sexy with two gigantic misshapen milk pustules on your chest.

Of coarse the 20 pounds that remain from pregnancy aren't all in my breasts. Much of it has also settled in my thighs, my lower back and love handles, and of coarse, the sad looking empty lump of loose skin and fat that is my stomach. . . Oh and my arms, which sprouted some bright red stretch marks to match my stomach during pregnancy.

This, as vein and self centred as it may sound, is the only complaint I have about motherhood.

Never mind that my partner is sleeping on an air mattress in the living room so that the baby can nurse to sleep. And never mind the buckets of drool that have started coating everything we own with its cold slimy film in the last two weeks. And never mind that I haven't had more than the time it takes me to take a shower completely to myself in 4 months.

I am only concerned with putting my body back together. How it used to be at the very least, although better than before would be nice.

It's not even really entirely an image issue either. In the last two weeks of my pregnancy, pre eclampsia set in, my blood pressure sky rocketed to 150/95, my left hip started to go on strike, and it was frighteningly difficult for me to breath beyond what is normal for a woman in her 36th week of pregnancy.

These health concerns, it was pointed out by my doctor, were not necessarily directly contributed to by my weight, but my obesity certainly didn't help. And this scared me and das piper a lot more than we copped to at the time.

All that being said. Today I took a walk in this unseasonably warm weather to my friendly neighbourhood curves gym and after a long talk with one of their trainers, I purchased myself a membership for 2 months.

I am hoping that this, combined with our weekly fit for 2 aqua fit classes will be enough to help me start feeling a little less like a disgusting blob. And a little more like the healthy and attractive woman I know I can be.


See Him Learning?

When I have the good fortune to witness moments like this one where you can see him learning about the world around him, all is right with the world. I know that I must be doing something right.


Gist #34 of 365

1) 50$ worth of books are ordered and on their way to me, thanks to the Christmas money my mother sent with very specific orders to spend it on myself. . . I may have snuck in a couple chunky board books for Oliver. . . But it was just to qualify for waved shipping fees!

2) Oliver has learned to laugh. . . And it is music to my soul!

3) We have been consistently sleeping 8 hours a night with only one night feeding.

4) Das Piper, Oliver and I have been able to spend every day of the last month together. It will be tough on all of us when he goes back to work.

5) All of this beautiful weather has resulted in many a refreshing walk around the neighbourhood. It is so nice to get outside after that horrible cold snap.


Write of Passage Week #5 Challenge

I finally found time to complete a ‘write of passage’ challenge!

This weeks challenge was to write about a job, Which reminded me that I am really good at getting jobs, and then working and working and working at them non-stop until I burn out and quit on an exhausted and overly-emotional whim. . . Like the time I worked as a customer care representative for a cell phone company:

I couldn't do it anymore. I left. I logged out for lunch and all but ran, straight away from the noisy humid streets of downtown.

Past the buskers, the bums, past the business men and women in their grotesquely over prices suits. Walked tall and sure through allies and side streets, past the hustlers and the dealers and got out.

I walked to the cemetery. Though not entirely sure what drew me there. All I know is that when I slowed enough to look around that's where I was.

I threw off my shoes, and my jacket. The wrappings of my so called dignified life, and I walked by every stone with the souls of my feet meeting the cold soft earth. As though I could absorb, through the muddy grass, the soul of someone long past and forgotten,

the strength of a woman who's life began and ended with the world at war.

The innocence of a child, whose one day in the world hopefully brought his mother enough happiness to bare grimly his later loss.

The bravery of a family lost. Sickness perhaps, or an accident, one way or another, their love was strong enough that the rest did not last long after the first had gone.

I wonder about them. What did they look like? What did they do? Were they happy? Are they happy?

When I got home, after the chill that ran through my feet to chatter my teeth had gone. I applied for a job in a funeral home; which I was turned down for, apparently ‘Because I am sick of the living.’ was not an appropriate ‘Why do you want this job?’ answer.


This past Friday, an interesting book fell into my lap, Everyday Blessings: The Inner Work of Mindful Parenting by Myla and Jon Kabat-Zinn.

Before I go any further, I should mention that I, regardless of what anyone might say about how no baby is by the book, am an avid reader of all things baby and parenting.

Reading for me is not just a lifelong passion, but also my first choice weapon against becoming overwhelmed and panicked in new and unknown situations. And even though I have had plentiful past experience with babies and children, motherhood is absolutely new and unknown and overwhelming at times. It is so much more than simply caring for an infant in a way that I can not put into words.

And so my reading had taken me far and wide across the entire spectrum of parenting philosophies. But it wasn't until this book that fell into my lap on Friday that I found one that helped me put name and deliberate technique to the feelings I have about motherhood and the kind of parent I wish to be.

Mindful parenting is about striving to be present and aware in every moment of your child, who they are, and what their needs are. And realizing that what works for them and you one day may not work the next.

One aspect of this that I found particularly interesting was the idea of sovereignty.

Sovereignty in that he is his own person, in that he will make his own decisions. It was a concept that I had not taken notice of until I picked up this book. And yet I feel like I had been unknowingly grasping for it the past few months.

This concept of Oliver's sovereignty allowed me to finally put into words what I believe my roll as a parent is: To create an environment where my son can safely explore, develop, and exercise this sovereignty.

Sometimes that will mean providing direct guidance and support. Sometimes that will mean letting him try and fail and learn on his own as I watch on. Sometimes this will mean setting clear and consistent boundaries. And sometimes it will mean letting him set his own.

The over all idea being that I need to be present and mindful, I need to be in tune with my son and who he is as a person to know when and how to take these actions.

In picking up this book, I was able to realize and pin down that to acknowledge and have respect for Oliver's sovereignty is at the very heart of the kind of parent that I want to be.

So thank you to whichever cosmic force or Deity or whatever is responsible for thrusting this book into my lap.