Kami's Khlopchyk

The Photos of Christmas Past

2015-12-22T14:10:00.000-06:00

I did this post originally back in 2011. Yesterday it came up in my FB memories feed. I decided to dust this off from the archives and add the next 4 years. Just for fun!

Here is what I originally wrote:

2006 was a tough year though, I spent a good hour searching for that photo alone. The Christmas card said "All the best for 2007". Naturally I assumed the picture was for Christmas 2007. Don't ask.

So without further ado, here are the last 9 13 or so Christmases because I got nothing, nada, zilch for 2001, the first year we were a family. Also, you will have to bear with my snide comments because, well, I am me, I can't rightly help it.

And yes, my scanner is of the "I am so tight I squeek when I walk" genre. It's not your eyes.

2002 - My hair. Definitely in the "What the HELL were you thinking category". And my fashion sense. Or rather complete and utter lack of it. A t-shirt? So glad I dressed up for family pictures.

2003 - Jack, would it kill you to smile?The cute is still killing me. The chub. The mini-professor glasses.

2004 - we grew by one cheeky little man who was at the time, often referred to as "my LITTLE baby guy". You have to imagine this said in the most high pitched annoying voice in the history of voices used to talk to babies. That's how I do it over here. Breaking glass and all.

2005 - the first of the singing snowmen that started the collection. (2015 update: he is still around though has seen some wear and tear. He no longer can tip his hat. Too much love from the boys over the years). Apparently I didn't like to be in photographs. I mean, can you blame me after 2002's fiasco?

2006 - Before I found the family shot from 2006, I was going to use this one and because they are so damn cute, it's actually hurting my eyes, I am leaving it in. Completely unrelated: oh the patch, how we don't miss you.(2015 - oh those cute boys...sigh. I miss them a little.)

Then I found it. The were bells ringing when I did, I promise you. The elusive 2006 Christmas card photo. Why I have a digital copy, I have no idea. Credit goes to Snaptshots Photography. This photo I actually love and we redid them a year later. I have a family shot, a shot of the boys and a shot of Jay and I hanging in tall skinny frames over our living room couch. I love them still. (2015 - they survived the great living room reno of 2015 and are still hanging in our living room).

2006 also marks the year I got with the whole "family" picture thing. You know, sending out a photo with the Christmas that included all four of us rather than just the boys.

I have continued that tradition since and I am so glad because, well, it's just nice to have them, you know?

2007 - no snide comment for this one, I still love it. Fall is such a great backdrop.

2008 - the photo I sent out with cards this year eludes me too but I found this shot. Aside from the alien lighting, it's all good. (2015: What is with the shape of that tree?!)

2009 - this is still my favourite (of the ones I have taken). I just love it. (2015 - it still might be my all time favourite).

2010 - The sun? It does not go behind the camera. When you look this up in a photography manual (is there even such a thing? If so, I need it. Clearly) this photo is the exhibit demonstrating why.

2011 -Cute boys. Adults scrunching. Again, all good. At least we are all in a photo together.

2012 is gone. As in, the folder for that photo shoot is gone. I can't find it anywhere. Thank goodness I have printed paper old school photo books and an iPhone.

2013 we did these in Saskatoon and also did some in Regina with a friend who wanted to practice. I love them both.

And the theme is family pictures in the fall. I guess it's the prettiest and most photogenic season.

2014 we did some in Saskatoon with my family. Again in the fall because the leaves, of course.

And this year we again did fall pictures but it was the nicest fall we have had in years and it was more like summer the day we did our photos. No self-depreciating comments on my expanded girth. I am working on this.

And we took this one yesterday right before we opened gifts as a family before our Christmas travels to visit family begin.

Merry Christmas everyone, may the joy of the season surround you!

Fourty: The year the beep hit the fan

2015-09-03T15:15:00.000-06:00

I have heard that once you hit 40, that's when the s__t hits the fan. I guess it's true because it's been quite a year. Probably one of the hardest I have been through. I am grateful to have gone through it though because I learned more than I care to admit.

I am over nine months out from the start of the trouble and only just now ready to put my thoughts down into words. I have been open and honest about it all with my family and friends because that is just how I am wired. I can't pretend or lie very well. I am finally ready to share it here.

In mid-December 2014, I started having trouble sleeping. First it was waking up in the middle of the night and not going back to sleep for hours and then it morphed into barely sleeping at all. After a couple of weeks, I was a disaster. I have always needed 8-9 solid hours of hard core sleep. I love sleep. I am a champion sleeper. Trouble sleeping, what the what? It's never lasted for long when I have had the odd bad night and then it was always easily attributed to some stress factor I was conscious of.

By the last week of school before Christmas, I was having anxiety. That's fun. I have never experienced true anxiety. It's not mental. Nope. It's a full blown physical chain of events that comes and goes almost randomly. Of course by this time, due to the lack of sleep, I was but a shell of my former self.

My doctor subscribed sleeping pills. Like as in the ones that you can get addicted to. I didn't care at that point, just knock me out for all that is good and holy in the world.

I took the first one and slept for....a whole hour. Mother trucker. Now what? She told me to I could take up to two. So I popped another. Great, another whole effing hour of sleep. And then I tossed and turned and went down to the spare bed and back up to our bed and maybe slept another hour in total and not consecutive. The best part? Almost falling asleep and twitching so hard I woke myself up only to have to start all over. Good times, I tell you, good times.

It was one of my own personal hells. There are many. Another involves spiders, as in tarantulas. I could go on but for the sake of preventing nightmares, I'll stop there.

By this point the anxiety was 99% related to sleep. Will I finally sleep tonight? OMG what if I don't sleep tonight? What if I die of lack of sleep? (yes, it was all completely logical and well thought out can't you tell?)

Two days later and a day before we were heading to visit family for Christmas, I was done. I was having full blown anxiety the whole day through, not sleeping and basically a basket case. It was a Sunday I think so I had to go to a mediclinic rather than my family doctor. At this point, I needed some way to control the anxiety so that I could hopefully have more success with the sleeping pills.

I was prescribed an anti-depressant/anti-anxiety drug. Stop for a minute. That was heavy. How did it come to this? HOW? A phrase I uttered often was "why is this happening to me?".

The kicker? It takes 2-3 months to take effect. Awesome. He also suggested I see a psychologist. Luckily enough I got in the next day and right before we left for Christmas.

She was great and she provided me with some podcasts that were supposed to relax me.
I listened to one in the car on the way to Saskatoon and finally was able to relax.

Later that night, as I talked with my parents, the anxiety ramped up again. It was always worse in the evening. I go into the bedroom and listen to the podcast and proceed to have an awesome panic attack.

Let's just stop right and here and point out that my mom was my rock at this point. I was like a child again and wanted my mom to fix this. She wanted to fix it too. I am sure it was really hard for everyone to see me like this. It wasn't me.

The next morning after yet another crappy night of little to no sleep, my mom calls my brother and they are brainstorming. He is a pharmacist and finally suggests that maybe it's my thyroid acting up. At this point, no one especially me, could consider anything other than a physical issue. Off my mom and I go to the ER because it's the week of Christmas and I am not in my home city so the family doctor is not an option.

After a very long wait that involved me losing my shit after the doctor came to see a girl that had stubbed her toe (I kid you not - who goes to the ER for that?!) before me. I was a mess. I wanted help and so I lost it when this occurred right in front of me - in the waiting room - a whole other story. The resident asks me if I am okay as I am sobbing in the middle of a busy waiting room. No, I said, I am NOT okay, that is why I am here. Can I please be seen?!

The solution? To give me effing Ativan. At this point they could have shot me up with heroin. If it would make me sleep, I would have done it. The doctor makes us wait another two hours because she wanted to see if the Ativan could calm me down. No it actually didn't, I am a logical person who had a tantrum to try and get action and I calmed down on my own. She then tells me she won't test my thyroid because she can't treat it anyway and I should not be taking the sleeping pills but should be taking Ativan and sends me home.

She was lovely, in an I don't want to deal with you, you have a mental issue and I wash my hands of you, just go home and sleep kind of way. Merry Christmas to you too, lady.

So at bedtime that night, I take the Ativan as lovely doctor beyatch prescribed and after a half hour of practically hyperventilating go out of the bedroom and my mom takes one look at me and we head to a different ER. Ativan was not at all helpful, to say the least.

We had a much better doctor. He tested my thyroid even though he was 99% certain it wasn't the issue. It wasn't but at least knowing that the test showed that, I had some closure. He also suggested taking both sleeping pills at the same time. I had not idea I could.

Mom had me pop them in the car before we drove back out to their place (25 min drive give or take). I was out like a light and mom had the pleasure of escorting a rather inebriated adult daughter into the house. It was comical. I reached for something and fell over. You have to laugh at these times.

Christmas was a blur. While taking two at once helped, it was not the final solution. I spent Christmas Day in bed resting because by this point, I had absolutely no energy to even sit upright. We then headed off to Kimberly, BC for a ski trip after Christmas and I loved the car ride. It put me right to sleep! Once we got home, I was able to see my family doctor and she finally got me on the right mix of anti-anxiety meds to get me sleeping through the night (can you say, triple the normal dose!). It took me weeks before I felt "normal" again (ie no anxiety) with weekly visits to the doctor to check in.

Fast forward 9 months and I have been through the process of weaning off the sleeping pills (huzzah!) and have cut the dose on one of the anti-anxiety drugs to 1/6 the original dose. The side effect of that drug, 20lb weight gain thankyouverymuch.

So. The moral of the story is that all of this was caused by stress. Did I feel stressed? No. Not at all. I had it all under control. I knew how to manage the demands of being on call 24/7 for my job. I prioritized! I was confident none of this was stress related for a long time.

I had to finally break down and admit that it had to be stress. There was no other reason. Thankfully changes were easily made to my job to cut my stress by half or more. I am so lucky to work with the organization I work with. They are so great to me.

I also had to make some significant changes in my personal life. I had to give up my one personal training client. That was hard. Really hard. I cried that day. I was pretty proud of my accomplishment and the fact that I could by dynamic enough to have my accounting career and a side gig as a PT. But I did learn my lesson. And I really do think that this had to happen for me to learn. It was hard but without having gone through this much hell, I don't really think I would have admitted to myself that my life was not manageable as it was.

The other huge change that is still a huge work in progress is my self body image. Gaining 20lbs will put that in perspective in a damn hurry I tell you. This is me last summer when I decided to get "serious" about my fitness:

Can you see why I needed this slap in the face? What in the hell did I think was wrong with how I looked? That day, I could have given you a list of at least 10 things. Today? Not a one.

Like I said, 20lbs will put that in perspective in a damn hurry. I will not likely ever look like that again. I still wasn't happy so why why why?!

Right now I work out because I enjoy it, I feel strong and fit and because I am good enough just as I am right now at this very moment not when I lose the 20lbs. Okay, I gotta be honest. I would at least like to get close to where I was in that picture above. But I am working on that because as I compare these two photos, I wonder if there is really that much of a difference. I see a huge difference but I am biased and skewed.

I have been reading the book that the founder of GoodLife Fitness wrote. His mantra is "Good enough is good enough". I was searching for perfection and it ended up with me in the ER having a tantrum like a child. I don't need perfection. I need a body that can live my life and I already have that.

I am good enough.

I know

2014-10-06T09:30:00.000-06:00

The other night I was The Biggest Loser and one of the contestants brought up how guilty he felt that he hadn't had one more chance to tell his mom that he loved her before she passed away.

My immediate reaction was, she knew.

I have two sons.

One says "I love you" every single day, sometime multiple times a day. The other has only said it on a handful of occasions.

Do I think one son loves me more than the other?

Absolutely not. Hell to the no. And that is absurd.

I tell all three of my boys that I love them on a daily basis. It's just how I am.

Verbalizing it is how I express it to them. However, it is by no means the only way.

My boys show me they love me in so many ways.

When they give me an unsolicited hug.
Or a solicited one for that matter. They are boys and they are at an age where hugs are not necessarily cool.

When they need me to comfort them in some way. You could argue that is their need and not their love but if they didn't love and appreciate me, would they even want my comfort? I don't think so.

When they come home from school or a friend's house and they can't wait to tell me something. Or in Jack's case, he can't wait to avoid my questions with general answers. They may be great kids but they are by no means perfect.

When they wave from the sidewalk as they head off to school. Or give me the peace sign, in Kamden's case. It's our thing.

When they clean toilets. This might be #1 on the list.

When they smile at me.

It's the simple things really.

And in that moment watching that grown son worry that his mom didn't know, I wanted to tell him, she knew.

This post has no name

2014-09-24T10:04:00.000-06:00

After I posted last week, I instituted a new approach to help Kamden with his anxiety. I completely stole it from someone I follow on Instagram. She's kind of famous and kind of like someone popular in high school (except that she seems like a very nice person) that I admire from afar.

Anyway, it appears that they use a reward system to help fight anxiety. It got me to thinking. I was taking the approach that this was out of Kamden's control. What if we turned this around and taught him that he has some control over this?

This was after we made a decision, a hard one, to have him miss his best buddy's birthday party because it involved seeing the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. He knew it would haunt him at bedtime, the bad guys, the fighting, etc. It wasn't an easy decision but we thought if we could avoid adding to his anxiety, it was the right decision.

So what did he worry about that night instead? That his friend would be upset that he didn't come to the party. *facepalm*

(Exhibit A: found on my phone - goofball)

I may or many not have lost my s--t at that point. My conclusion was that he was going to worry no matter what. I mean, sometimes he is just anxious about being anxious, for goodness sake.

That's it, we have to take the power away from the anxiety. He had to take control. So what better way to have a kid take control than by providing a reward? We must use a language that speaks to them. That in itself is a sad state of affairs but that's another post. I may write it too....helicopter parenting is failing us. I work with the adults it creates. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

We are now over two weeks into the reward. It's $5 a night. His anxiety always hits at bedtime complete with dizziness and a look on his face, not unlike the one below, no wait that his deadpan look, not quite the same.

He gets $5 for every night he can fight the anxiety and go to sleep without excessive worry. The "worry" involves coming into our room after we have all gone to bed upset about the anxiety du jour - examples include but are not limited to: he has a major health problem (the same night he ran for two hours straight at football practice....um no, you are fine), something will happen to Mom and Dad (we are good dude, no worries), scary noises in his room (house shifting, car doors outside etc), school (pick random worry and insert here) etc.... lather, rinse, repeat.

(we ran a 5 km race a bit back, at least we ran some of it)

It was something new every night. Oh yeah, then there was my epic parenting fail. EPIC. It's possible this entire anxiety thing could be blamed on me.

I shouldn't even write about it here. Maybe. Oh what the hell. It's sort of funny. In a I suck as a mom kind of way.

This summer, we lost Jay's dad. It was sudden and it hit Kamden pretty hard. He hasn't dealt with death yet in his young life except when my cat died and my parents dog which I think we can all agree is not quite the same thing.

One day, he came down while I was working to relay something that happened that he couldn't figure out. He was putting the stuffed animals he sleeps with back into his bed before he made it one morning. He grabbed one, leaving the other at the end of the bed. When he turned back around to grab the last one, it was gone.

He found it in his hamper.

I had no explanation and so without thinking (me? speak without thinking? So out of character for me) I said oh maybe Granddaddy was messing with you.

I mean, I watch Long Island Medium, it could totally happen, right? And it would so be something in character for Jay's dad. One of his favourite words was buffoonery after all.

(Exhibit B - buffoonery defined)

So yeah. Not a good thing to tell a 10 year old boy, in case you were wondering. About a month later, he came to in tears me as I was falling asleep saying maybe it's Granddaddy making all the scary noises he hears when he's trying to fall asleep. That was my first clue about the epic parenting fail. Yes, I am slow on the uptake.

After much reassurance and the use of the word buffoonery several times, I convinced him that his granddaddy would NEVER try to scare him. EVER.

Mess with him to make him laugh, absolutely, but the noises are just the house, or possibly his overactive imagination or its paranormal activity that I am too old to hear or something.... Oops. I went too far again, didn't I? Kidding, I didn't say the part about the paranormal activity. This time.

The are several ~~morals~~ points here:

- I didn't cause the anxiety with my fail (it was already gaining its own momentum) but I did exasperate it exponentially
- he does have control or at least some control because we are well over two weeks without a late night of excessive worry. He is always a bit apprehensive at bedtime but we each have to think of at least two good things that make us happy before I hug him goodnight. That gives him something else to focus on. Take that, "worry".
- he takes some awesome pictures that make me smile daily. See Exhibit A through C:

(Exhibit C)

I might be married to a human giraffe.

Now that's something to worry about.

(I take his anxiety very seriously. I may have made up this system of dealing with it but it seems to be working for now. I am also saving for future therapy costs as Plan B.)

Right Where I am Supposed to Be

2014-09-10T15:07:00.000-06:00

I started the post last week when I was having a moment of complete gratitude. Then then the weekend hit and my feeling got unhinged. Monday was, well, exactly as one would expect Monday to go. The complete opposite of the feeling the picture below creates.

Summer, you let old man winter push you around again and only graced us with your glorious presence for a short time. We made the most it. Fantastic smiles from time spent with friends and cousins in the beautiful sunshine accompanied by too many hamburgers, hot dogs and s'mores. Perfect.

The summer included birthdays, Jack is now a teenager though still not overly acting like one (*sign of the cross*) and Kamden is 10. Time flies.

Kamden is trying his hand at tackle football this fall. He was pretty anxious, as was mom, but it's going really well.

This picture cracks me up. His face. White pants to practice on a grassy, muddy field...so funny. Oh wait, no, that's a reminder to buy stock in a laundry stain removal company.

This boy of mine is a conundrum. So happy and easy going by day, by night, anxious and full of fear. That is the cause of my Monday blahs, this.

It's hard to watch him struggle. In this, we are in new territory. My arsenal of possible tools is quickly running dry. We are in the process of seeking help but in what is typical of my style, I think, just one more day and we'll be through the worst.

It involves many peaks and valleys. All I want is my happy go lucky boy back.

Yesterday, if at all possible.

I am so very grateful that I am not doing this alone. Also, what I wouldn't give to be back on that beach in Jamaica right at this moment. Oops, sorry, not being overly grateful, really, am I?

September has arrived with crisp mornings and falling leaves just in time for school. The boys were less than impressed with the arrival of the first day of school but have settled in nicely.

Grade 8 for this young man and grade 5 for his brother. As has become typical in the last couple of years, the first day of school photos have more outtakes than goodtakes but I kind of love it like that.

These two can make me laugh like no one else.

And that's what I will hold onto as we weather this minor storm because I am right where I am supposed to be.

15-Love & 40-Love

2014-05-07T10:40:00.000-06:00

I have been looking quite forward to my 40th birthday. I am not overly sure why but I think it's partly because I am pretty content with where I am in my life. And because of my new goal to practice regular gratitude, here is my listing on this my fortieth birthday:

Husband, partner, best friend and fantastic dad? Check.

Kids, that which I always knew I wanted. Check.

Extended immediate (think about it, it makes sense) family that's awesome. Check.

Career/job that I love. Check.

Financial security. Check.

Good friends. Check.

Minimal regrets. Check.

There might be a few regrets but most are more like wishes that things could have been different. After 40 years, that's probably to be expected.

So here is to 40 years young.

To celebrate, Jay planned a nice dinner with a few close girl friends this past weekend. I am an introvert. A big surprise party is not my thing. This dinner? Perfect.

Jay acted as chauffeur so that we could all responsibly indulge in the adult beverages. The location was our favourite restaurant. We indulged in (what we considered) expensive wine and an amazing 6 course meal. You'll note that there are not 6 courses pictured above. I missed taking pictures of two of the courses. I was too busy laughing and eating and drinking.

As an aside, I am still dreaming of that scallop (top left). And I thought I didn't like scallops. Converted! I think I was like 12 last time I tried them so....

Oh yeah and there was the oyster choking incident. Mental note, easy on the horseradish when you are going to try to let it slide down your throat. Horseradish on the back of the throat = choking Kami. And those I still don't like. Similar to the clam slithering down my throat incident of 1985.

And that wine. It was worth every cent.

These girls. Well they made my night. We are all super busy people and I am so grateful they could take the time to celebrate with me. They might be gorgeous on the outside, but more importantly, they are beautiful people on the inside.

It was perfect. Thank you Christie, Leah, Terry-Lyn and Michelle (who was there is spirit from NYC).

Jay and I are also celebrating our 15th wedding anniversary. It's a big year.
He and I had our time together in Jamaica and after all these years, we still seem to really like each other.

I fully realize what a blessing that is and try not to take it for granted.

Happy Fifteenth Anniversary Jay! My only wish is for many many more.

Formal Gratitude

2014-04-26T20:24:00.001-06:00

I just did a really quick trip to Vancouver for a work meeting and retirement dinner. I was dreading going because this past year, I have travelled more than I ever have in my entire life. And me, I am a homebody with a capital H. I was looking forward to seeing everyone because that's a no brainer but the plane rides and airport time I could do without.

Part of the day was spent in a workshop talking about uncertainty. There is lots of this right now as our profession goes through a huge change. It's one I support but it will likely mean changes for me professionally. I don't consciously feel like I am stressing about this but I have suffered more headaches the last 6 months than ever so perhaps I am subconsciously.

Anyway, that's not what this about. What I was reminded of during the workshop is that we can't focus on what we don't know but what we do. And when we choose to focus on something, it should be the positive. At one point, the facilitator asked if we practiced gratitude journaling. I didn't raise my hand but then later I realized that I do. I just don't write it down. I think of things all the time and I often post them on FB (which I have been avoiding lately but that's a whole other story).

Instead, I am going to dust this here space off and write down things I am grateful for on a ~~weekly~~ more frequent basis.

Here goes nothing. Or something. The verdict is still out.

1. Cherry blossoms. Where have you been all my life? Very glad they were still blooming when I got off the train yesterday. A photos was taken and sent to a good friend because this stuff has to be shared with those we love. Also? The sun was shining and it was gorgeous out.

2. The people I work with. I don't talk about my job here ever (because obviously!) but I will make an exception here. I work with a group of people who believe in team work and believe in a positive, supportive work environment. I have experienced the opposite of that and I appreciate the current situation so much more as a result.

3. My job. I don't think this is news. I work from home doing something I love. I am here for my kids. Enough said. The uncertainty, well, it will sort itself out. I have faith. (Headaches, you hear me?! Bugger off, things are fine.)

3. Having a good hard laugh with a friend. The kind that makes stop breathing and tears come to your eyes. All he said was, "Do you mind if I touch that?" I don't know why we both laughed till we cried but we did. That which he wanted to touch was a cast iron tea pot my tea came in at dinner last night. I think perhaps both our minds hit the gutter there but sometimes, you gotta go there. Equally amusing where the befuddled looks of our colleagues as they somehow didn't find it as funny.

4. Friends that get you. That understand you when you are venting about things that might be slightly petty. They listen, support and provide prospective.

5. This quote:

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Theodore Roosevelt

It really resonated with me. I will stop worrying about the judgement of others. The reality is that I am flawed and human and imperfect and people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. Myself included.

Next up, my fortieth birthday. Can't. hardly. wait.

Jamaica - A Second Honeymoon

2014-02-27T21:36:00.002-06:00

In May 2014, I turn the big four oh and Jay and I celebrate 15 years of wedded bliss. For Jay's 40th in 2010, we hit Vegas. It was great fun and the plan since then has been Jamaica when mine came around.

We planned to do an all inclusive for the first time ever. It really was a second honeymoon. Given that we went to Disney World for our first, I think it was appropriate that we hit an adult only resort that had food we so wouldn't have eaten back then. We ate at McDonald's on our first honeymoon. More than once. Our tastes? They have matured. I am not sure we have so much but hey, a least something has matured.

We ended up in Ocho Rios at the Sandals Grande Riviera. Naturally they have photographers wandering the resort always ready to pose you in laughable style. You will see what I am talking about later. The one above is one of my favourites. Of course we got suckered in and bought them all. We got a free bottle of rum out of the deal so at least there is that.

After dinner, on our first full day, we found the gym and did some weights. We like working out, so while on a vacation with no obligations, responsibilities or well, you know, kids, we thought we would try to fit it in. The next day, we noticed there was a circuit class at 2pm and thought we would check it out.

Enter Adrian, a Jamaican ex-military man turned personal trainer. That circuit class? It started with 20 burpees and finished with us drenched in sweat and gasping for air. In other words, awesome. All 30 min (because we may have perished if we had gone any longer).

We tried the power walk the next morning and Adrian showed up again. Holy hills batman. Power was an understatement. We then hit every morning class we could for the rest of the week and Adrian did not disappoint. We felt far less guilty about the pina coladas and Bob Marley's we consumed in copious amounts the rest of each day. We were gone 7 days and worked out 6 of them. I call that a win.

As you can see, the scenery was horrid. It was so hard to lay on the comfy beach chairs (with cushions!) and stare at this in the gorgeous thirty degree heat, I tell you. It's a tough life.

After our days on the beach or by the pool, we would head back to our room and get dressed up for dinner. I wore every summery dress I own. Some of them, for the first time because well if you are familiar with SK, you know that summer is a state of mind rather than a season most years.

It was fun and the food, as I mentioned was quite elegant. The restaurants were all themed, Italian, Caribbean, Chinese, Japanese teppanyaki (cooked by a Jamaican chef, now that was quite the experience), French and seafood galore. It was all delicious.

I was very worried about coming home sporting ten extra pounds. But this resort, and I don't know about other all inclusives, didn't have food everywhere. There was one breakfast buffet that was comprehensive and delicious. There were only a few places for lunch, one being a really good buffet that was new each day and only a couple of places to get snacks. The snacks were very limited. Nachos. We did that twice, then enough.

At lunch we would cart some fruit, buns and cold cuts (the salami, oh damn that was good stuff - remember Klinger from Mash, I was channeling him) back to our room fridge for a snack while we got ready for dinner. And we also packed a lunch for the plane by doing that - the two and half hour delay on the tarmac? We were one of the few with enough food. Never mind that the cold cuts had been out of the fridge for the better part of 6 hours by that point. We hadn't gotten sick yet, we had to live on the edge a bit.

The resort included tons of water sports and shuffle board. We played a game of shuffle board daily and discovered we are not very good at it. We did get mildly better as the week progressed but we think that may have been because we were playing at night most of the time. We likely just couldn't see properly and assumed we were getting better.

We did stand up paddle boarding once and kayaked once too. But it was pretty rough out on the ocean most days so it wasn't always available. Besides, it was hard to lift our butts off of the previously mentioned beach chairs. And it was really hard to hold a drink on the paddle board. I should know, I tried. Kidding, but I did consider it.

We did two off resort tours. The first was a "Challenge" and by that they mean uphill on bike. Um. We live on the Prairies. He asked us if we wanted the easy or hard bike ride. When I got off my bike to push the damn thing because it was faster than riding it, I asked if this was the easy one. He said yes. It was a challenge all right. It was fine, we liked it but it was hard. The concierge who booked it didn't warn us. Maybe we look super fit? I feel for the next couple that unknowingly sign up for this! May they rest in peace on that Jamaican hillside.

After the bike ride, we climbed a water fall. This consisted of the guide telling us where to stand to get as wet as possible while he took pictures with my camera.

That drink is the Bob Marley. Like his hat, you know? I actually saw several locals wearing those hats. I was wondering if it was for real or for the tourists. Much like the typical Jamaican expressions you hear, No problem, mon, Hey mon and my lady. They actually did use them. On the resort anyway which could be a complete fabrication, who knows.

Like most Caribbean countries, the poverty off the resort is quite astounding. There were corrugated tin communities scattered here and there along the highway from the airport to the resort. You hear about it but until you see it with your own eyes, it's not as close to home. We really pondered if our coming and spending money at the resort was helping or making it worse. I know the resort employs many but do they get paid adequately? And the resort is not locally owned, you can bet your bottom dollar on that.

I will also never complain about a pot hole again. We have no idea what pot holes are. Seriously. We get one and we are all, can't the city fix that, I have to slow down once on my 15 min drive to work. In Jamaica, you have to slow down once every 200 meters and swerve into the oncoming lane lest you leave half your car behind in one of the many ruts, holes are ridges that riddle the road generously. I repeat, we have no idea.

This country is gorgeous. I really wish I could have gotten more photos off the resort but we were either in a bus swerving around holes that could fit a smart car or on a bike, zip line or river tube. Trust me, it's beautiful, lush and amazing.

The people are also so warm and full of humour. Again, I am not sure if that is a resort only situation since we didn't venture out unless on a resort sanctioned tour. Regardless, they were lovely people and we felt a bit weird being served hand and foot. Sandals does not allow tipping which makes it even more amazing. I could not do that, I promise you. Lazy North Americans eating and drinking and expecting me to serve them hand and foot? Hell no.

The second tour we did involved riding a tube down a pretty tame river. It was refreshingly cool and shady and incredibly beautiful. I really needed a water proof camera. Maybe for next time.

Then we did our first zip line ever. It was a short, not very high, route because well, we have never done it before. It was perfect.

We both agree that there will be more zip lining in our future.

We splurged for a massage up in that hut on the hill with an ocean view and better yet, the ocean breeze. It was worth every penny.

We also had a photo session booked for us when we arrived and we decided what the heck. We haven't done many photos just the two of us. It was fun and we bought them all. Naturally the shoot is free (cough cough included in the generous resort fees) but the photos are not. We caved and bought them all, in electronic form.

Some are cute. Lots are of us kissing. Why? I don't look good kissing. Does anyone look good kissing?

That one is okay. I guess it shows that we still like each other, even after twenty years together

This one could be titled, "White man (and woman) can jump" but I assure you it is more aptly titled, "Jamaican photographer works photographic magic to make ridiculously uncoordinated white people look good". I promise you, I cannot jump that high in runners let alone wedges that I nearly roll my ankle on regularly while I walk on flat ground.

Which reminds of the time I fell in a bush. Yes, in a bush. No, I was not drunk. I wish I had been. We were just leaving our room to head over to the chocolate buffet (unrelated: why was this buffet not a nightly occurrence?) and I was wearing wedges, not the ones pictured above, but another pair. Jay and I were chatting about something, I don't remember what now, and all of a sudden I am saying, "I am falling. Into the bush." I rolled my ankle off the stupid wedge and into the stupid bush or hedge or lethal weapon to no one but Kami, freshly trimmed I might add. I am still pouring peroxide on the cut that ensued because the bush (weapon) was clearly poisonous and now my cut is infected.

Oh and did I mention that at the exact moment I fell into the bush, a couple that had been on the tour with us all afternoon walked by?

Because Murphy is a total asshole.

Oh yeah, and at one point I had to explain to the photographer that I was too white to do what he was demonstrating without looking like, well, a total white person with all her rhythm housed in a hair on her left ankle. He laughed. I meant it as a compliment. Damn those Jamaicans have rhythm, sass or whatever you want to call it. Related: I would settle for being able to walk on wedges without falling into a bush.

And I will sum up the trip with this picture:

It's better than the one I saw in the photo shop of a guy laying on the beach looking like he is eating his girlfriend whole. I wish I were kidding.

No problem, mon.

The Great Scuffle Epiphany of 2013

2013-12-12T20:58:00.000-06:00

Scuffles are something my mom has made for Christmas since I can remember. My aunt also makes them. If you are not familiar with them, they are irresistible little cinnamon roll ups of sweet devilish goodness. I started making them a few years ago and because there are one of Jack's favourites I keep trying. You see, my mom and aunt are experts. Their scuffles are always so much moister and more uniformly shaped than my sad little experiments. People, what I am saying is I got big shoes to fill. I haven't even attempted perogies yet. Hold me.

Last year when I lamented at how dry my scuffles were, my mom suggested I bake them at a lower temperature. Guess how I remembered that this year? Not with my spidey senses, oh no, it's because I wrote it on the recipe card. I am magic like that.

I went to yoga after supper and while lying in final resting pose (savasana)I had an epiphany on how to make the shape more uniform. Don't try this at home folks. The last thing you are supposed to be doing in savasana is thinking about what you are going to do later. I am a rebel at yoga. Leah (aka my yoga instructor), don't read that part. Oops, probably should have mentioned that sooner, eh?

Edited - Leah said the following: "That is what is SUPPOSED to happen. Clear the crap and clutter in your mind through the postures and conscious breathing. And then a better and more concise thought process occurs. My work here is done."

Here is what came to me:

So because I can't roll out a uniform circle to save my soul, my epiphany was to make a uniform circle using a plate. Huzzah!! That way, when I cut the circle into slices like pizza (the prop department failed to take a picture of that part - they are so fired), they are all the same size. More or less.

It totally worked! They are much closer to the same size and they are so much moister.

Now if I just hadn't made them with real milk and butter, I could actually eat them.

(Why I did that is a whole other post that involves Jay and I in Jamaica in less than 2 months and wanting to not look like someone spread cottage cheese on the back of my legs. Stay tuned, I know you can't wait for that.)

Momma Smack Down

2013-12-01T19:23:00.001-06:00

See that? That is music to my eyes.

The boys received their report cards this past Tuesday. I won't get into details but someone, not mentioning any names, hasn't cracked a book all year.

He still squeaked onto the honour roll. I have no idea how. Horseshoes maybe?
And he also failed to meet his reading goal.

He is normally a straight A student. He hasn't had to work very hard thus far but he's now in grade 7. Things are getting more challenging and rather than adjusting his study habits (which right now are nil nada none) he is coasting.

This momma laid down the law.

You might think I am being harsh but here's the thing. This type of work ethic will get you no where fast in life never mind high school and post-secondary education.

Not to mention on my watch, everyone will give full effort. If you try your best, you are successful. Period. End of story.

You get the picture.

Here is where I have to confess our part in this. You see this is not all his doing. Oh no. We are the adults in the household and these adults got lazy.

The hours of screen time had reached an all time high here at Chez Lahti.

I kept justifying it with the fact that they were doing well in school, were reasonably active and still have friends. No one wants their kids to end up loners who play videos games alone in the basement all day and night.

And it's a constant battle. The battle of screen time. Kids today (and adults) are glued to a screen. It doesn't matter which type....it's all the same. We are turning into screen zombies

So the smack down happened. Our boys both have earn screen time now. They can earn it by reading a book (remember those?), doing homework, physical activity, yard work, practicing piano.

At first they were appalled. We were the meanest parents ever (we are for the record, and I am cool with that).

However, after almost a week, I am amazed at the change. They are proud of the reading and practicing they have done to earn their screen time and they are self policing their screen time.

And we have had more conversations, more laughs, more time together than we have for a long time.

I was a wonderful wake up call. It was needed both for us and for the boys.

So we are planning sticking to it. I hope we do.

In My Head....

2013-10-25T12:41:00.000-06:00

I am uneasy and feeling blah for a couple of weeks. Hormones are likely to blame. I also had a lovely tension headache for about 3 days off and on last week. Nothing makes you more full of life and happy than a tension headache.

I chose to look on the bright side posting this to FB:

Looking on the bright side is hard when you are on day 3 of a tension headache. But I am. Three things I am thankful for: the wonderful friend who made a massage work for me in her busy schedule (love visiting with you as much as the massage), the GNO with another friend that was FUN and took away the headache temporarily (also the wine, good food and laughs) and the amazing friends my boys have. We are blessed in so many ways. Go ahead and hurt head, you cannot break me.

After some pondering, because that's what I do, I have come to conclude that I need to do some re-evaluating of my goals and aspirations related to fitness but more importantly body image.

I have been inundated with pictures of perfect bodies in barely there bikinis of late and regardless of my own self body image, good or bad, this has been affecting me more than I thought.

I know people who post those pictures do so because they are really proud of what they have achieved, and rightly so, and also because they might inspire others.

BUT.

When that is what I see, day in and day out and then I look at myself in the mirror, there are two possible outcomes (okay maybe more but I go back and forth between these particular two), I get inspired and work hard to be like them (guess what, I never get there, unattainable much?!). Or I think for the love of Pete, I look like crap compared to them. I am worthless and hopeless and I will now eat a tub of ice cream (and you know how bad it is when I will knowingly eat dairy!).

Let me explain.

You all know me and what I look like.

I am a healthy weight and body fat percentage. I am overall a healthy person. I rarely get sick, I get enough sleep and I eat pretty reasonably.

I do not wear bikinis. I have cellulite. My belly button has been influenced largely (HA!) by the miracle of birthing my two of my three favourite boys in the entire universe.

I have body fat. And here is where I am going to lay it out there. I am actually supposed to have body fat. And way more than these people in barely there bikinis.

So for my own sanity and healthy body image, I do not need to look like those girls. And consequently I don't want to see those pictures because it's a vicious cycle of self-loathing.

(Facebook settings are very helpful here. I like the people, they are awesome. This is about me. And my needs.)

What it comes down to is that I don't need to look amazing in a bikini. Because oh my word are there more important things for me to focus on and my worth is not based (in any amount whatsoever) on how I look in or out of a bikini.

Now if my heart and mind could get together on this, that would be all kinds of perfect.

Running Season - Over and Out

2013-10-06T16:37:00.002-06:00

This year, I tried something new for running. I actually trained.

You would think that would be a no brainer. And I guess I should clarify. I have always "trained" however, what I did was make it up as I went along. Not the most effective, although it worked to some extent. I finished all my races and I mostly, continually improved.

But this year, I wanted to break through, really put my all into it. So when a friend mentioned the sub-55 min 10k training plan (by Jeff Gaudette) in the running app I had, I thought, hmmmmmm. That is a lofty goal. My personal best (PB) is a good almost 4 min slower than that. But I could do the plan and shoot to break 58 min.

I mentioned it to my trainer, Dan, and he told me heck yes I could do it. At that point, I tried to believe but well, I am a healthy pessimist at heart.

In May I had raced to a time of 59:45 or so and that was good, really good for me. I hadn't worked too hard yet and I already was close to last year's PB. And I felt good during the race. It was one of the good ones, where quitting isn't even something that passes through your mind.

Sometime at the end of May I began the training plan.

And as the workouts were completed and I was meeting the pace requirements, I started to believe that yes, I could actually shoot for a 55 min 10k.

Fast forward to early September and we ran our relay race for the Queen City Marathon. My leg was supposed to be 11k. I ran and felt amazing the whole way and according to my timing device I was at 54:58 at the 10k mark. I finished my leg in 60:36. I was beyond happy. On a high for a week or so.

Until I talked to a friend who ran the same leg. Her phone said it was only 10.7k. I know that my timing device (quit putting stupid random links in my post Blogger!) tends to overestimate the distance (it said 11.06k), but really? By almost 400m?!

That deflated me a wee bit because I didn't quite achieve the pace as I had thought. Time to get back to work and finish the training for Oct 5 10k race. That one the distance was fixed. The time is published. This was the goal race. And I still had work to do.

The other huge piece to my training plan has been nutrition. My trainer has been working with me on macronutrients. He gives me set amounts of carbs, protein and fat (the good kind) to eat each day. I have been following his guidance since early in the summer and what a difference. As soon as I got serious about it, the runs became so much easier. Less sucking wind and swearing in my head, more you are doing it, just keep pushing, it's hard but you got this.

Yesterday was the day. The one I had been working so hard for all summer long. I logged between 20 and 30 km a week running 2-3 times a week. Speed work , tempo runs and long slower runs with increased speed at the end. I was more ready for this race than any other race I have ever entered.

I am foreshadowing here. Do you see where I am going?

I believed. I could do this. I felt like I held myself back a bit during the QCM race. This time, I was going for it. I was all in.

Jen came in the night before to run the 5k and we had dinner together and visited. It was great, I haven't seen her in too long.

In the morning, we headed out. I was a bundle of nerves (did I put enough pressure on myself or what?) but we arrived and jogged to the bathroom. Jen commented that she was just getting nervous and noted I was probably calm. I said yes, as soon as I get here and start warming up, I calm considerably.

I said good luck to Jen and lined up at the start. As I was waiting, I see friends, Leah (friend, massage therapist and yoga instructor) and her partner. They were shooting for sub 60 min so when the gun went off, I took off. I felt good, I was running fast. It was great. I was breathing well and I felt good. (Guess what my trainer told me to do? start slow and build. He's usually right. But did I listen? Oh no.)

Then I hit 3k and I started thinking, shit. What is up?

I started sucking wind. Bad. My problem has never been that my legs get tired, it's that I can't bloody breathe.

I slowed slightly, trying to get myself together. Somewhere just before 4 k I see this girl in pink beside me and she glances at me a couple of times. I thinking what is your issue chick, pass me and leave me be.

Then I hear her say, "She must be in the zone"

I finally look and guess who it is? The friends I left at the start (she was in red but I saw pink, I think that says a lot about how in my head I was). Uh huh. Apparently I was very gracious and welcoming and was all like, "Oh. Hi."

She asked me how I was feeling. She knew. She noted later that she didn't think it was a good thing that they had caught up to me.

Not good was my reply. So what does she do? She goes into yoga instructor mode and coaches me the entire rest of the race. Her and Ahren could have taken off and in fact I told them to more than once, I felt like a complete butt head. Here I trained and shot my mouth off about this goal and I was the one who needs their help. They had to slow down for me. Later Ahren commented that you never leave a man behind. But it was a race I said, leaving a man behind is so fair game!

I am very grateful for Leah because she pushed me harder than I had it in me yesterday to push myself. I had to walk multiple times to catch my breath and get my breathing back...she egged me on. Each time I slowed, she pumped me up. I didn't always want to hear it. I wanted to quit. I know I wouldn't have even if she hadn't been there but I would have slowed down way more. She didn't let me, she made me do it even though it hurt like hell.

At about the 8k mark we almost got in a fight. She egged me up a hill (there were more hills on that route than San Francisco, I swear. I don't care if we live in the flattest place on earth. Yesterday the hills were 5x magnified, the bastards) and tried to tell me it was the last one.

I didn't talk much during the race. I just listened but at that point I had to call her bluff. It SO wasn't the last hill and I knew it. There is another one, just before the entrance to the track we finish on. It was funny then and it cracks me up now. I was like a four year old child. It's not the last hill, I yelled. Then I walked. Again. Because I had used up all my air yelling. Like a four year old. I am so mature, it physically pains me.

She nearly kicked me in the butt at that point.

Then I got it in gear. I thought to myself, you are not going to let this one bad run ruin all the work you did this summer. It's not going to ruin how far you know you have come. Suck it up princess and get it done.

By this point, we were close. I could finally see the light at the end of the pain. When I got to the finish the pain would stop. And my goal? It wasn't completely gone. I looked down just as we finished that last bastardo of a hill and my watch said 53min and some seconds. I was close. I had to do about 400 more meters and I know from training if I kick into high gear, I can do that in just over 2 min. So I could still break 56 min. That was just what I needed to pull that last bit from deep within me (see Leah, I was listening!).

We were on the track. That track, for the record, might only be about 300 meters from when we re-enter it and finish (we also start on the track so we do the first 100 meters at the beginning of the race) but it feels like 8 effing miles. I have run this exact race 2 times before, I know this.

But the finish. It was. right. there. The pain would stop.

Then Leah decides I need to pass a girl about 15 meters in front of us. So we do. God knows where I got that energy from. Apparently we passed her. I have no recollection of this after I looked up and saw her in front of me. I sprinted (as fast as I could go at this point anyway) and Leah is still cheering me on. Does she not have to breathe I think? And also how do I get me some of that because air, it was a deficit for me yesterday for about 40 some minutes of that damn race.

We neared the finish and I hear Jen cheering me on - friends rule the world y'all.

We crossed the finish I stopped my watch and the time read 55:53.

Then I bent over and tried not to die.

My previous personal best was in this exact race last year. 58:43. I was almost 3 min faster.

That is HUGE.

I am happy. But. My goal was 55 min and I hate runs that hurt that much. They are mentally exhausting. I was fighting a cold all week. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was how fast I stared out. I don't know what it was and I can analyse it till the cows come home (and I will, don't you worry) but the moral of the story is I had a terrible run. Horrid. I was at my worst. The pathetic noises I know that came out of me mortify me. Having a friend there makes my patheticness (what? it's a word, it describes Kami during a terrible run) come out. Alone, I would never make those noises out loud. Terry Lyn will know all about this as she pushed me to a personal best a few years again the same manner. Except that time, I hadn't trained properly.

I had a personal best. A horrid run that resulted in a personal best.

I have to be proud. I am working on it. I'll get there as soon as I stop feeling like a truck ran over me.

The moral of this story is that I am not a natural runner. I have to work four times as hard as say, someone like Leah who could have easily broke 55 min yesterday had she not been an amazing friend and instead helped me.

It was all worth it. Reaching a goal is rewarding and the only reason I run. I may not have quite gotten exactly to the goal I wanted but I did reach a goal. I ran faster because I trained hard (and Leah didn't let me quit on myself - maybe I am self-destructive Jen, I lied).

Mission accomplished.

Kamden takes up Running

2013-09-25T16:20:00.000-06:00

*alternate title: this blog has not (yet) shut down for good

Hi! Remember me? That's okay, I have been been neglecting my blogging hobby something fierce lately both on the writing side and on the reading side.

This used to come so easily to me, this over sharing for more people than I likely should have been sharing with. For whatever reason, it doesn't anymore.

Anywho, a bit of an update on us, for two of you that might stumble by.

Kamden is in grade 4 this year and it's the first year he is eligible to participate in extracurricular sports. The first one that came up was Cross Country running. I was pleasantly surprised when he signed up. He has never had any interest in running and the last 5km walk we signed up for resulted in him throwing a tantrum and walking slower than a snail for the entire distance. So he was 5 years old, that's not the point. Okay maybe that's the point. Whatever.

I went to watch the first race because I wasn't so sure it wouldn't be the last. It was smoking hot that day and he managed to finish about 36th place or something. Out of over a hundred kids. I couldn't have been more proud. He said to me after it was done, "Mom, that was hard. But it will be easier next time, right?"

I didn't have the heart to tell him that no, it would never be easier because you always try to go faster. Welcome to running, son, you will never be satisfied and will always strive for more.

He has since raced 2 more times and has managed to improve each time. He hasn't mentioned whether it got easier though. I am going to assume, no.

Jay and I were signed up for a night run this past Friday and when I mentioned it, he wanted to do it too. What the hay, I said, it's 5km. He can do it.

We managed to fit a couple 3.25 km runs in before the race (he was training for Cross Country too). Race day came and we met up with another couple, Terry-Lyn and Kent, to run. It was a fun run with no timing chips and it involved "glowing". We hit the dollar store and were definitely under-glowed compared to others.

I know his eyes are closed but it cracks me up. This is sooooo him.

Jay stuck with him since the rest of us got separated in the mass of people at the start. Once we finished (in about 27:22 or so - fastest 5k ever for me - it's been a busy running year, post sometime soon on that) I looked at my phone and Jay had texted an update as to where they were on the course. They were not far from the finish so I started walking back along the course and before I knew it, there they were.

As we neared the finish, the rest of us couldn't keep up to him. He was all about being done already and sprinted in to the finish.

He ran it in about 31 min. Turns out they took a short cut accidentally so the distance was not quite 5k but it was a least 4.5. Not to mention he only took one walk break (I am in awe!) 26 min into the race.

So so proud of you, Kamden!

Next year, he'll no doubt pass me and I'll eat his dust. I am okay with that though.

To finish, some photos of the cousins on Jay's side. I might be bias but we make ridiculously good looking kids, no?

The idea for this pose was all Dana's.

And pumpkins because, well, why not?

Till next time, keep fit and have fun!

A Meme of Five

2013-07-16T15:18:00.001-06:00

I haven't been tagged in a meme in years! But Elaine tagged me and since we just met in person for the first time last weekend, well, I gotta do it. Elaine lives in Louisiana but came up to Edmonton to visit a cousin. I happened to be in Edmonton for work since that is about 800 km from where I live. Amazing how that worked out.

(Picture stolen (borrowed?) from her blog. The cute dimpled guy is her son, G.)

List of Fives Meme

Five Things I Have a Passion For

1. Food. All kinds of it, all the time. Hence why I workout like a crazy woman. I have to say that I eat far less dessert than I once did though - dairy intolerance takes the joy out of that. I struggle with the balance between eating reasonably clean for health and tying to look like I could be in Oxygen magazine. One is realistic and the other is not for me. And let's be real, I don't have the will power for the Oxygen magazine ideal.

2. Exercise. Pilates, Yoga, running, weight training. Any and all. I love to push myself. I also enjoy helping others in my part time gig as a personal trainer.

3. Photography, though I don't indulge this passion nearly as much as I should lately.

4. Jay and my kiddos. They amaze me and give me so much joy every single day and I wouldn't have it any other way.

5. My family and friends. My parents and bro and family rule, my in-laws are pure awesomeness and I have the most supportive and caring friends a girl could ask for. Time with them is priceless.

Five Things I Would Like to do Before I Die

1. Do something crazy and completely unexpected. Like move to Bora Bora. Not by myself though, with my family. Just had to clarify in case Jay thought I was crazy.

2. See my boys grow up to be amazing men.

3. Grow old with Jay by my side. Maybe in Bora Bora.

4. Move out of our bungalow starter home into a bigger one with a garage. And an office for me that isn't in the basement doubling as a store all the crap that we have no other spot to store.

5. Master the art of public speaking. I have come a long way in two and half years. My job requires me to lead training sessions of groups of 30-40 people. And I do it. And no one falls asleep or cringes at my awkwardness more than a couple times through the day. This is huge. I still hate it with the fire of a thousand burning suns and dread it up until the moment I start. But maybe that part will never go away. Either way, I am pretty proud that I have overcome part of the phobia.

Five Things I Say A Lot

1. DUDE!

2. Crap.

3. Shit.

4. I love you.

5. Like. As in, I, like, oh ma gawd, totally sucked at that.

Related: I am working on my potty mouth.

Five Books and/or Magazines I Have Read Lately

1. Beautiful Creatures Series - second time I loved it so much

2. Life of Pi
3. Our Canada Magazine

4. um?
5. random books from the library that I never remember the name of

Five Favorite Movies (maybe you’ve seen them Five times...)

1. Home Alone - the first two

2. A League of Their Own

3. Despicable Me

4. Cocktail - I still want to see a waterfall like the one in the movie. Maybe when we go to Jamaica in February next year?

5. Cars - I love Owen Wilson and particularly as Lightening McQueen. Oh and Mater, he just plain cracks me up.

Five Places I Would Love to Travel

1. Atlantic Canada - I have been as a kid a couple times but not with Jay and the boys. We will do this someday. Soon.

2. New Zealand and Australia

3. Jamaica - hopefully Feb 2014

4. Italy - see food above. And wine. Mmmmmm

5. Europe though the jet lag scares me. I get it from going to Vancouver! I am a sleep princess.

Gratitude Squared

2013-07-09T22:30:00.001-06:00

Remember when I was waiting a biopsy on my thyroid. Yeah that was a long time ago, wasn't it?

As I waited for the biopsy, I went through some stuff. The grouchies would be a mild adjective to describe it. I offended a few people with a FB post in the process. Not my best moment but hey, those who have taken the time to get to know me realize that wasn't me and it was a mistake. Last I checked, we all make mistakes.

The biopsy involved six or seven needles to the throat. Jay came with me and as usual, was my rock.

It was uncomfortable and sore and all the things you would think but by the next morning, it was all gone.

Then we waited and I kind of forgot that I was waiting to find out if I had the C-word. For some weird reason, I had more trouble with the time before the biopsy. I can't explain it other than work has been very busy and it occupied me. I had no time to think and dwell and that was a good thing I guess.

Until the day before I was to find out the results. Then I started getting a bit stressed.

Jay again came with me to get the results. You know for everyone's safety. As we sat there waiting I could barely breathe. I had tried to tell myself it wouldn't be a big deal either way. We'll deal with it. In a strange method to calm myself, I was actually looking forward to a day or two off work to accommodate the surgery.

I know.

You do weird things in these situations.

The doctor walked in and checked his computer and said those two wonderful words that I wasn't sure I could hear, "It's negative."

And then I stopped holding my breath.

I made it all the way out of the building before I collapsed into Jay's arms in a puddle of tears.

Then I called my mom and we started all over again.

I do not know why I was one of the lucky ones who dodges the C-bullet. I shake my head still.

What I do know is that I have so much to be grateful for far beyond this one blip on the radar. I won't always be this lucky but I will always be grateful for what I have.

Jay. He brings out the best in me and loves me despite my million and one faults. I thank my lucky stars every day for that day in June twenty years ago when we met.

My boys. They do not know much about any of this other than there was something in my throat being checked. We didn't want them to worry until there was something to worry about. I am so glad to be their mom.

My parents. They are always there when I need them. I couldn't ask for more.

My friends. You cannot pick your family but you sure can pick your friends and I have some of the best around.

Life is busy and good and I am beyond grateful for every single moment.

xoxox

Kamden Is Nine

2013-06-30T22:24:00.000-06:00

Two days ago, this little blondie turned nine.

(better late than never, right?)

How he went so quickly from that little boy to the cheese ball below, I don't know. That smirk above? Cute. And now?

Well let's just say you could never accuse him of not having a personality.

He is funny and smart and full of energy.

Exhibit A:

An end of school drawing brought home on the last day of school noted that "Summer Rocks". Then he put "Ow, my feet."

You know, because of the rocks.

Yuk, yuk yuk. Or hardy har har.

(I didn't get it at first, I must admit)

Smart, Exhibit B, his grade 3 report card.

And Exhibit C, full of energy.

This kid would play sports all day long every single day. Not only does he love it but one of his football coaches noted that he was so fun to coach because he takes direction well. As a parent, that makes me super proud.

I just wish he would listen to my direction a little better sometimes but we can't have everything now, can we?

(the next paragraph is for the annual photo book - feel free to skip and ignore my blatant bragging!)

He scored multiple touch downs in the flag football season that just ended (parenting fail as there are no photos or video) and as a defender in soccer managed to score a goal in the tournament they played in. It was a gorgeous goal - he raised to the top right corner. His coach took off his hat and bowed. Kamden, cool as the cucumber he is acted like he did this on a daily basis. This only served to crack us up. After we finished screaming with glee. (We cheer loudly whenever his team scores but because he plays defence 99% of the time, we may have cheered extra loud this time).

Happy Birthday to the kid who never fails to make me smile and make me proud as a Mom!

Happy 12th Birthday Jack!

2013-06-10T15:09:00.000-06:00

It's hard to believe that this little guy is now twelve. Twelve.

I kind of miss those glasses but I know he doesn't.

One more. He's changed so much yet he still looks like this guy, just an older version.

Dear Jack,

Happy birthday buddy! I know you no longer like to have a huge deal made out of this day but like I told you many times last week, it's a special day and because we love you, we are going to make somewhat of a deal of it.

I think the cake I made where I accidentally used baking soda instead of baking powder (a whole tablespoon of it) really shows you how much I love you, no? Or maybe it was more when I threw that horrid tasting cake out and made a new one?

Thanks for helping me with the second one to make sure I got it right.

You are growing up to be a really great person. You are kind and loyal and quick to hug your mom. I like that, you know.

This year brought you new challenges. Your first reaction to something new is usually that you would rather not try it, thankyouverymuch.

I know this is part of who you are and you can't change it any more than you could change the size of your nose. I get that.

I also know, from my considerable years of experience (cough, cough) that as your mom, I can't let you sit everything out because of this gut reaction.

You and I came to heads on this a couple of times this year. One resulted in this:

That's you at the ski hill having the time of your life. The reason? Because you tried it, even though you didn't really want to and because you tried it, you found out you love it.

No, I don't get tired of being right, why do you ask?

And then yesterday, there was an outdoor ed trip with school. Again, you didn't want to go but mean old mom made you. I knew parts of it would not necessarily be your thing but I also knew you would have fun most of the day.

So yeah, sorry about that getting swamped in the canoe thing first thing in the morning, I didn't foresee that, I promise. You handled it very well and Dad and I are so proud of you. You could have thrown your hands up and said, "See Mom, I told you this would suck!". Instead you changed into your swim trucks and had fun.

It's been a great year, dude. Academically you continue to excel. You work hard at school and while most things come easy, you still put in a full effort and do all your work on time.

You have a great group of friends. You chose well there, kiddo. Good friends are a gift to be treasured. As you know, not everyone is as kind, fun and generous as your group of guys.

Your Dad and I couldn't be prouder of who you are. We love you and are privileged to walk by your side as you grown into the man you will become.

Love Mom and Dad

Insert Curse Word Here

2013-05-22T14:08:00.001-06:00

Hi.

So.

It's been an interesting few days, can I start there?

I opened this page to start writing this hours ago. This is kind of hard.

I'll start at the beginning.

I was born.

Oops, that might be a bit too far back.

About a year ago, at a regular appointment, my doctor found a lump on my thyroid. My thyroid is next in line for my body to attack since it has already annihilated my ovaries. So he's been watching it's function for probably two years now.

I was a bit concerned but discussed with a friend and she said she had one too. I was scheduled for an ultrasound 6 months from that date so I forgot about it and moved on with life.

6 months later, I go for the results of the ultrasound and received confirmation that yes, there is a growth. Tears form in my eyes at this point.

He went on to tell me that it's very small, 1 cm (or maybe he just told me it was 1cm and I inferred small?!) and that the chance of, gulp, cancer, is only 5%. At that point, there would be no biopsy and we would do another ultrasound in 6 months. If it grew, it was biopsy city.

I went out to our brand new Pilot (we had only had it for about a month at that point) called Jay to tell him the news. I thought I was okay. I still swear I was fine.

It's called denial or shock, people, trust me you don't even know you are doing it.
I guess denial is the right word then....

I hung up with Jay and backed up to head home. And backed into a parking divider that was about 3 ft high. Shit.

Good thing the Pilot is equipped with a back up camera, no? Apparently it only works if you actually look at the display screen. Who knew?

I didn't even stop to assess the damage, I drove home cursing in my head the whole way at already wrecking the new vehicle.

I got home and checked. I only broke the plastic cover over the hitch. WHEW.

I was upset for a day or two and then just sort of put it out of my mind. Again, denial. From the outside, you are all thinking, how? Why? What is wrong with you?

Trust me, I would think the same thing. Turns out when it's you, you deal with things in strange, not necessarily rational, ways.

I told only a few people, maybe 3, and then never talked about it again. This is weird for Kami who has taken over sharing to new levels in various other aspects of her life.

And now she's talking in the third person. God help her now!

Fast forward to last week and I had the second ultrasound follow up appointment. The day before I read this post by Angella about her friend recently diagnosed with, you guessed it, thyroid cancer.

No, I didn't freak out at all. (bold faced lie)

The week before, during the ultrasound, I had a bad feeling. Then this post was like a sign. I arranged for Jay to meet me at the appointment. You know for the safety of the Pilot and everyone in a 50 feet radius of me behind the wheel.

The first thing the doctor checked was the results of the blood work and he remarkeds that my thyroid function is completely back to normal (it had been mildly low previously) and that I didn't need him anymore (Endocrinologist).

Say what?

"WHAT ABOUT THE LUMP?" I asked politely.

Did you have an ultrasound he asks?

(And doctors wonder why we question their abilities. Seriously, do you not have my file right there? Do you not review said file before you come in to talk to me?)

"YES." I reply politely. Last week.

(Do people with cancer or those who might potentially have cancer still have to be polite? What? It's a valid question, isn't it?)

"Oh, yes, and they, and I, recommend a biopsy."

SAY WHAT?

"Oh, did it grow?" I ask.

"No, but they, and I recommend a biopsy."

By they, I assume he means the radiologist that would have reviewed the ultrasound. And I kind of love how he had to add his own little shout out there each time too.

(he's fine, I am just being snarky)

This is where shock sets in. I had no reaction other than confusion that we now had to have a biopsy even though there was no growth in the growth (say that five times fast).

(is it really evident that I use humour to deal?)

We leave, Jay ensures I don't run over anything on the way out of the parking lot after hugging me and just being overall awesome as usual and I head home.

I try to work.

Text my mom. Text Jay ongoing as he keeps me from losing my shit all over the place.

I won't lie. I had a couple of really really rough days. Tears were common place. The whole feeling of I can't believe this is happening to me alternating between relax, this is a minor thing, it's treatable and you don't even know if you have it yet.

It was exhausting.

I found it hard to break the news and actually still have only told a handful of people, and those that I told, I did over text.

It was easier. We all deal in different ways and I am taking the approach that this is what works for me.

I wanted to blog about it Friday but I think it's good that I waited. I was too raw, too emotional then.

I have come a long way since then thanks to the amazing people in my life. I have to admit that being the one receiving the words of encouragement was hard for me. It's much easier being on the other end.

Thank you, I love each and every one of you and am so thankful you are in my life.

By Saturday morning I was feeling much better. As I ran up the hill during boot camp, I came to the conclusion that my body is strong and it can do this. If I have to fight cancer, I'll take this kind and I'll fight with all I have.

Now I coast waiting to hear when the biopsy will be. In the meantime, I will be living life, working out and eating clean (ish) and loving on all the amazing people in my life.

Ciao.

14 Years!!!

2013-05-08T08:56:00.001-06:00

Fourteen short years ago today, I finally got to walk up the aisle and make it official with this guy.

I love the pure joy on my face. No cold feet here! And also it may have felt like a short fourteen years but damn if we don' look like young 'uns here. Not that we look old now, just older, more refined, like fine wine. Or something.

Jay, the time has flown by and I couldn't ask for a better best friend, husband and father to our boys. You exceed my expectations daily. I have to constantly check myself so that I don't take you for granted. I know how lucky I am, truly.

If I am half of what you are to me, to you, I call that success.

I wish for another 50 years just like the last fourteen. With you by my side, life is not just good, it's amazing.

Kamden and the cheesy smile, oh how I love it. And I should really dust off the real camera because these phone pictures are sub par at best and yet, still better than no pictures at all.

Happy Anniversary my love, you are truly my one and only forever and ever amen.

Do Bullies Know They Are Bullies?

2013-04-09T13:46:00.002-06:00

Wednesday April 10th is Anti-Bullying Day or some such thing. The intent, I think, is to raise awareness of an issue that is as old as humans. Because humans can be real jerks, you know?

The kids were talking about it at breakfast today since Jack's class is participating in a flash mob this afternoon. I am also currently reading, for the second time, "Nineteen Minutes" by Jodi Picoult and said out loud,

"I wonder if bullies know that they are bullies?"

Both boys looked at me like deer in the headlights. Oh dear, here she goes on another one of her rants....

In the book, a 17 year old boy, does the unthinkable and goes on a shooting rampage in his school. He was also the object of much torment on a daily basis (from his older brother among many others). I don't condone what he did but I do think a lot about what nobody else did before this happened.

No one stopped or even tried to stop the humiliation that went on daily for this poor kid.

This is a fictional book, but let's be honest, we all know of or were someone who was treated the same way. In grade 11, I moved to a small town and saw this first hand. And saw teachers who either didn't see it, ignored it, or basically participated in it.

It made me sick, and still does. But I did what every coward does, I ignored it. I hope I never laughed, I certainly never found it funny. I wish I would have had the courage to stand up and say what I really thought. I can say it now, but it is way too little, way too late.

"Stop, you jerk. You are not funny and it's actually quite sad how little you think of yourself. Only people who have no self esteem themselves need to belittle others to make themselves feel better."

I am also very certain that I exhibited some pretty mean behaviour over the years and pretty sure that at the time, I didn't much care if I was being mean or not. Hopefully I learned from my mistakes but I am still in the learning process so....

My point, and I do have one, I think, is that Anti-Bullying day is great and wonderful but does it serve any purpose? Do kids or adults who exhibit bully-like behaviour recognize that about themselves? Do they know they are a bully?

I sincerely doubt it. And if they do, do they really care? I think by definition, a bully is someone who lacks compassion for others or they wouldn't be a bully in the first place, would they?

I wonder if wearing pink. making posters and dancing in a flash mob with your class will really has any impact at all on reducing this kind of behaviour.

My theory is that the fault lies in what we are teaching our children. Justifying their behaviour with comments like, "Oh he's just being a boy" or "They are just having a little fun" are likely the real problem.

I am big believer in ensuring our boys see the consequences to their actions. Hurting someone else is never okay especially where that was the intention.

The story, "Nineteen Minutes", is told from the perspective of the kids and parents of those who were shot as well as the boy who did the shooting and his parents.

I don't want to be the parent of either of those kids because both are equally heartbreaking.

During the trial, the boy who did the shooting makes an astute observation after hearing one of the boys who tormented him for years claim under oath, after being shot and seeing his friends die, that he was just having fun when he did all those horrid things to the shooter.

He observed how little things had changed despite how much things had changed.

How poignant. And I think it proves my point. Yes, I know the book is fiction but I happen to think it's pretty dead on reality. If getting shot isn't enough to make a bully recognize he's a bully, then a little pink and some posters sure as hell ain't gonna.

Don't get me wrong, awareness is a good thing, I just don't think it's enough.

The one where Kamden threw snow at me....

2013-03-25T22:40:00.000-06:00

Yes, another post on skiing. It's exciting for this family, what can I say. We have been slowly accumulating our own equipment on sale. A sporting store was closing out and we scored all of the below at 70% off. A steal of a deal.

Jay and I still need skis and a local ski shop was going to be at a hill in MB with their demo skis this past weekend so we took a trip.

It's a three hour drive so we drove up the night before and stayed in the adorably adorned hotel that screams Prairie alpine village. What? I'll let you figure that out.

We swam and slided and then had treats before bed. It was a fun night.

In the morning we headed to the hill. A hill with more than three runs we could do! We were excited.

We did a few runs and then headed to grab some skis to demo. We strapped them on and headed to the chair.

That's where things went a bit awry. It's a quad chair so all four of us were able to ride together. This was not the first kick at the can as we had done a few runs already but something didn't go as planned and just after our skis left the ground I realized Kamden was not sitting on the chair but rather being pushed by it. I grabbed his coat with one hand and decided there was no way I could pull him up.

Rather than hanging on to him longer and potentially meaning he would fall further, I let go. Don't ask why I didn't try to, you know, use two hands. I can't even remember my thought process beyond this.

The lift operators took him into the little hut and let us know they would keep him there till we returned. So we rode up and skied our butts down as fast as we could. I am sure it was an eternity for him.

I knew he would be upset. I had a similar incident as a kid only my dad fell off too. On top of me. Apparently I was less that pleased by this and naturally blamed it all on my dad.

I expected no less from Kamden.

First he hugged me and cried. Then he fell onto the snow and ....

Threw snow at me.

Yes, he threw snow at me. I think he beat my reaction.. Pretty sure I just yelled or gave the look 'o death.

I can't stop laughing about it. I totally get why he was so upset. And I couldn't be prouder that he got back on that lift and skied the rest of the day with a smile on his face.

Of course I was holding onto him with a vice grip the next eight times we loaded onto the chair, just in case.

And then, just because that wasn't enough fun, I accidentally took Jack on a black diamond run. In my defense, it was not that difficult and in my opinion more of a blue run. Jack hated it. It was like he knew it wasn't the blue run I thought it was. Later we figured out we turned left one run too soon. Oops. I guess he can cross that off his bucket list, you know, the one he wouldn't make in a million years because he's not the adventurous type.

Amazing family memories that have to be documented for future laughs.

It's Official, Skiing is our Sport

2013-03-05T11:10:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago, I mentioned that we took the boys for their first downhill skiing experience.

It was all in preparation for a school trip Jack was making. He was anxious about it and in usual fashion for a kid who is not keen to try new things, he didn't even want to go.

In an attempt to forgo the lifelong commitment to this adage (because are you kidding me? Life is too short not to try new things!), we were making him go. To ease his fears, we took both boys a couple weeks before the school trip so he would have some experience under his belt. We had a semi-private lesson for an hour and within that hour, both boys were turning nicely. We skied the rest of the afternoon in the bitter cold and called it a success.

A few weeks later, Jack wanted to go again so we loaded up and headed out. This time we brought one of Jack's friends too. He had tried snowboarding on the first school trip and wanted to try skiing. We had about a half hour before the lesson so I took him through the basics and by the time the instructor arrived, all three boys were ready to head up the chair for more of a challenge.

Jack and his friend were good to go, no issues. Kamden gets very nervous when we add a bit of a steeper incline. He was not impressed with the whole situation. I believe the words, "I HATE this" were uttered on more than one occasion. A sport he doesn't like, who knew?

So we sent Jack and his friend for one more run with the instructor and Kamden went in for a break. Then we tried again and it was no better. And finally he had had enough and Jay took him back to the bunny hill while I skied with the older boys off the chair. We even did a blue run and they both rocked it.

I am not worried. He'll get there. I was the same when I started. Ornery and mouthy and angry. I was also five and missing my two front teeth. My parents laugh about it now (and probably then too - picture a toothless five year old yelling!) but I guess I'll add that to the tab of a million things I owe them for.

You know that Joe Pesci Snickers commercial? That pretty much sums it up, just replace hungry with skiing.

On Wednesday he went skiing again with the school and came home asking when he could go again.

On Saturday we checked out our local ski shop and scored helmets at a steal of a deal. Jack (and maybe me too) were so excited about the new helmets, we had to head out to the hill Sunday to try them out. Kamden had soccer and was more than relieved he didn't have to go. Jack and I headed out for the day.

We had a great day together. He tried to pull his stuck in a rut routine (he is by nature, extremly habitual) by doing the one and only green run (it's a small resort) over and over but I wasn't having any of that. And after one mild protest, he agreed that we would mix it up with a blue run every now and then. It helped that it was easier to get to the lodge from the blue run than the green run.

He had a smile on the whole day. My heart was nearly bursting.

A sport he likes? That he is already talking about doing again this weekend?

We hit the jack pot (pun not originally intended but ha....).

I am equally excited. I am not sure if it's because I have always loved skiing (true story) or because he is so excited about it. I think it's a combination of the two.

I was teasing him by asking if I looked like some of the pros we would see from the lift and he was polite but firm, "Mom, you are good, but not that good."

Naturally I made him video me so I could see for myself. He's right. I am not bad but I am no professional. And my stop made me laugh out loud. Videos of both myself and Jack are here if you are so inclined.

We are scoping out equipment and have booked a hotel near Panorama, BC over New Year's next year. Grams and Pop may even come, it's been years since they skied and it's about time.

We are going to be a skiing family! Kamden is overjoyed.

My Valentines

2013-02-14T10:40:00.001-06:00

I have three very important men in my life. This post is for them because I don't think it's possible to tell those that you love how important they are to you often enough.

My oldest son, the one who first made me a mother.

He's now 11 years old. Technically 11 and half. His teachers have always raved about his behaviour at school. He has been awarded student of the month every year since Kindergarten. This couldn't make his Dad and I more proud.

He is smart. He can do math in his head at a rate that surpasses my ability by about 100 times. He can also remember just about everything he has read and is full of interesting facts. He amazes me daily with this ability.

He is also very responsible and ensures he gets his school work done at school on time. Almost always. When he forgot last week, we couldn't even be upset. It was literally the first time ever. At home, he gets his chores done, almost always without complaining (he's not perfect after all) and helps out where he can.

He loves his brother fiercely. So fiercely that we have to sometimes remind him that Kamden is his own person and doesn't want to spend 24-7 with him. Their interests are diverging more and more as they grow and it's been hard to watch that struggle. They want to spend time together but agreeing on what they will do is not always easy.

I tell him I love him more than once a day and he always responds, "I love you too." I will never, ever, get tired of hearing that.

He is growing up pretty damn nicely despite my feelings of inadequacy as a mother. I am so lucky he is my son. He has taught me a lot and I have grown as a person because of him.

and then he went and did this on Valentine's Day:

This was after our family dinner out and the cards Jay pickted out for each of them. He disappeared downstairs to my office and made this on the computer.

I cried. Clearly we are doing something right. Or despite what we are not doing right, he's turning out right. Either way? Score.

And then there is this guy. Who came along and showed us just how different two boys that come from the same gene pool could be.

He is easy going, silly, and loud. Case in point, the following video.

He specifically asked me to video him doing this and to post in on Facebook. How could I not?

He is all about soccer, football and mini sticks and would play any combination of them all day, everyday, if his brother had any interest in playing with him.

His antics have us laughing daily. It's really hard not to love this kid.

He is also doing very well in school. Math is his thing, he loves it and is very good at it. He has also been awarded student of the month each year since Kindergarten. Again, how could we be more proud? It's one thing to have kids who do well in school. It's quite another to have them recognized for their behaviour. Now if they could save some of that behaviour for home, we'd be golden.

I tell this guy I love him just as often as Jack but he only responds when he is very tired and forgets that the mushy stuff just isn't for him. It's okay dude, I know you do.

And then there is Jay. The one who walks beside me in this life. This wonderful life we have the privilege of having together.

This summer, it will 20 years since we first met and became inseparable. A little over half my life. Thank you isn't adequate.

He is my strength, my balance and ever present support. I can only hope I am the same for him.

To borrow from one of our wedding songs (and his email to me this morning):

I couldn't find another man

Who loves me like you do

I couldn't hold another hand

Who holds me quite like you do

Such a  love was heaven-blessed

Couldn't find another man

Every day, I love him just a little bit more and cannot fathom how I got so damn lucky.

Happy Valentine's Day! May each of you have love, hugs and a little chocolate today and every day of the year.

Taking Winter by Storm

2013-01-23T22:30:00.001-06:00

We've been busy. Kamden developed a new dance, patent is pending.

And don't worry, neither the floor nor Kamden were injured in the making of this video. Also, this kid, I just can't imagine our family without him.

My parents (and their dog, Mika) joined us a couple weekends ago to watch Kamden play in a soccer tournament. They met the same team in the final as the last tournament but this time, Kamden's team won. It was, to say the least, very exciting. The parents were, ahem, a little bit excited during all of the games. The boys played so well and it was a proud moment when they won.

And life around here is pretty entertaining on a daily basis (related: I love that I get to work from home and be here for these moments). This is a snap of the boys antics as they head off to school after lunch one day.

Pretty much a normal day around here. Again, I assure you, no one was injured (this time) in the making of the above photos.

This past weekend was very exciting for me. I have hoped for a long time that I could get the boys to strap on the boards and careen down a hill. Wait, that didn't come out right. Let me start again. My parents made me strap them on when I was the ripe old age of 5.

Ahem. That was no better was it?

Anyway. I skied all through my childhood, starting when I was 5. Living on the Prairies, we had to travel to the Rockies to ski but we did, annually. I loved it.

I have put it off because Jack, well, let's just say trying new things is not an exciting experience. But he has to go with school in a couple of weeks so... this past weekend, we braved the minus 35 degree Celsius (that is not a typo) temperatures and headed to a hill about 45 min away. It's no mountain but about perfect for beginners.

I had arranged for the boys to take a lesson as soon as we arrived. I might know how to ski but I was five when I started, I don't remember much about how I learned to ski. I do remember skiing between my dad's legs and him drawing S's in the snow in the futile effort to get me to turn rather than going straight down (now you see why my dad caged me in!).

They both caught on very quickly in and in about 5 runs down the bunny hill had mastered the snow plow and were sort of turning.

And can I just say, T-bars, thank be to heavens they are obsolete. This magic carpet system is the cats ass. I cannot tell you how many times I fell off the T-bar making my brother have to also get off because he couldn't leave me behind. I still owe him for that and about 10,000 other things.

And Jack, the one who was a bit frighted to try skiing took to it like a fish to water. He loved it! Being the good mom that I am, I reminded him that I was right about that. I am mature like that.

Kamden liked it too but the poor kid takes after me and was frozen within a half hour. We took lots and lots of warm up breaks and after I put those Hot Shot thingys in his ski boots to keep his toes from becoming ice cubes, he was having a blast too.

We even went up the chair once but um, that didn't go too well so we stuck to the bunny hill for the rest of the afternoon.

I was soooo proud of both of them for trying so hard and braving the ridiculous cold.

I can't wait to go again and maybe old man winter's fury will be a bit less next time.

Change Takes Commitment

2013-01-07T19:17:00.000-06:00

2013 had a bit of a rough start for me in my second gig as a personal trainer. I don't want to talk about the situation in detail because that's not cool. And those of you whom are my confidantes are likely sick to death of hearing about it already. I have to give a shout out to you all though, you all know how to do the support and advice part of friendship right. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

My first client broke up with me. Before I started this new adventure, I thought I would feel like a total failure if that ever happened. It turns out I was wrong. The break up was mutual. I let the client make the first move though because I am, after all, the "professional". The jury is still out on that, hence the quotes.

I don't feel like a failure because this actually isn't really about me at all. Okay a little bit, but I will get to that later.

My experience is fairly limited in that from the perspective of someone starting on a journey to getting fitter and healthier, I have only my own to draw from.

By the time I started working with a trainer, I had made the commitment to make it happen. It being the journey to fit. It's not a destination, it's a journey that I began five years ago and continues to this day.

So when I came to my workouts, I was ready, willing and going to do whatever was asked of me. Except when the nausea set in because, of course, that was my body saying "that's my limit" thankyouverymuch.

I wanted to be pushed past what I thought was possible for me. And I was almost every time. I kept getting stronger and it would take more to challenge me and I loved every minute of it.

Okay, maybe I am weird but I also happen to know a lot of other people who feel the same way.

To this day I love the strength and endurance my body can handle. I would say with ease but that would be a bold faced lie. But the key is that what it can handle now with a bit of duress is about 100 times more than it could way back then. I think I did a total of three push-ups during my first fitness assessment, and I am probably inventing two of the three. The other day, I did 30 consecutively.

In the meantime, I have become a runner, completing two half marathons, about five 10 km races and at least as many relay races. Five and half years ago, I would have laughed like a hyena if you told me that I would do that. Hysterically.

My point, right, I should get back to that. My point is that if you want to make a change, whatever it might be, lose weight, get fitter, make a pinata, or remove the possibility of being on an episode of Hoarders, you have do the work. With a smile. And the smile comes with the fact that you know, despite how hard it is, that this pain will get you closer to that goal.

And tasting that goal is a reward so sweet you will have a bounce in your step and grin on your face for a month.

I know from experience. So trust me a little, okay? Just a little. But more importantly believe. Believe in yourself. Believe that the work will get you there. Not today, not tomorrow but slowly and surely and safely.

And when you are working out, building a pinata, or cleaning out the pile of stuff that is beginning to resemble an application to be on Hoarders, give it your best effort. No excuses. Excuses are just you standing in your own way.

And if someone is helping you out, your trainer, your glue maker, or your daughter who can no longer come visit because the couch has disappeared, make sure that your personalities gel. If they annoy the snot out of you from day one, they are probably not going to be able to motivate you. Oh and this can be measured in direct proportion to the number of eye rolls and critical comments you direct at them, just in case you were wondering.

That's where this whole break up was about me. Personalities are personalities and if they do not work together, they just do not work. It's not you, it's me....or actually it's both of us. So there is no feeling of failure because that is out of my hands just like the level of commitment and self-belief of the client.

It's part of the gig. I was a bit naive going in but this was a great learning experience. And I will appreciate my other clients (Hi C & RL, you rock!) and my trainer even more (she kicked my butt today and I loved it from the bottom of my heart).

Amended to add this very fitting quote:

"What if I told you that ten years from now, you life would be EXACTLY the same? I doubt you would be happy. So why are you so afraid of change?" - Karen Salmansohn