MILK AND MUSIC

So, on my quest to watch the Oscar nominated movies, I watched another last night. I've commented on Slumdog (loved it) and last night I watched MILK.

I think Sean Penn is a fantastic, terrific, character actor. He's believable in every role he tackles. I think he takes the roles he chooses very seriously and puts 110% into his portrayal. That being said, I didn't love MILK.

I actually fell asleep during it. Now, that could just be because I haven't slept well the last while, but I think it also has to do with the fact that I kept waiting for the "action" to start. The fact that not so long ago, and I'd even go as far as to say ongoing today, there existed such an ignorance and hatred for those that are different than the norm, is disheartening and shameful. The message that Harvey Milk stood for, in terms of equality for all people, not just homosexuals but also "Jews, Women, Blacks, Whites, Browns, Seniors and Kids" is of extreme importance today as it was yesterday. I still don't think we are there yet. That message was very powerful. His fight to ensure that right for all was very powerful. His role in that movement was significant. I'm not immune to that message nor do I not support equality for all. I just found the storyline or the dialogue lacked "something." I felt it could have been more compelling, stronger, more touching.
I'm still glad I watched it. I'm still glad I have that story in my head. I'm glad I've been imparted some useful knowledge from that film. I guess you could say I love the message, but not the film.

I've also been listening to some new tunes lately that I'm going to give a shout out about to you. I guess they aren't "new" but I'm liking them a lot and playing and replaying. So check out :

Josh Radin-He sang at Ellen and Portia's wedding. He has kind of a Jack Johnson feel. I love the song "Only You" and listen to it almost daily.

Adele-She performed at this year's American Music Awards, with Sugarland joining her. Her voice has a sultry, smoky flavour. I love her song "Chasing Pavement".

Lily Allen-Here is a girl that I can't stand on a personal level (she just seems to ooze idiocy and shoots her mouth off constantly) but her voice to me is very unique and gentle and melodic. Her new album is doing fantastic in both the UK and USA (her breakout there) and the song "The Fear" is worth a listen.

Lady Gaga-All of her songs kind of sound the same, yes. She's rude and crude, yes. But the beat on her songs is insanely danceable and catchy. I get my groove on to Lady Gaga.

And finally, can't stop playing the "All -American Rejects" song "Gives You Hell". It's kind of my anthem right now. I like listening to this while I'm working out.

Those are my reviews for this week! Check 'em out and let me know what you think!

Cooking 101

My eldest daughter is making dinner tonight. Supervised, of course.

She asked if she could make dinner one night, about a week ago. Yesterday, she poured over cookbooks and recipes and made up her menu. I had to advise her about "using what we have" and making foods that we would "all" enjoy. It took a few attempts and various ideas, but I think we have a manageable plan now. We went from a little over the top, to a little too simple (her words) to a compromise between the two.

She is starting off our meal with fruit kabobs. That will be followed by a garlic roasted chicken, cauliflower with cheese sauce and garlic bread. (guess we'll be stinky!) For dessert, she has hot chocolate planned and we have some brownies and ice cream already. She wanted to make cinnamon rolls but I thought that was a little too ambitious for the first night of "Dinner a la A..."

I will be helping as her sous chef and cleaning messes along the way, and afterwards. She's very excited though, so it should be fun. And hey, if she keeps it up, I can take a night off here and there!

SCORE!

TGIF

Well, we've come to the end of the first week home after being on vacation for March Break. And the week literally zoomed by! It feels good to be home, but I also couldn't seem to get out of "leisure mode."

I had my daycare kids two days this week, today being one of them. We had our normal Tuesday night gym class. We had two snugly nights in my bed watching "Barbie Thumbelina" and "Bolt." (I love those Barbie movies! Seriously! I think they are very well made and the message is positive. Big thumbs up to Barbie!) We had lice checks at school, and lots of outdoor playtime after school in the warm weather.

Today is report card day and then swimming lessons tonight. I cannot wait for report cards. I used to love getting my report card when I was a kid, and I still have that anticipation to read my girls' reports. Yes, again I say, I'm a nerd.

Our weekend consists of the gym and cooking classes and who knows what else. And then we are into April! And April is a very busy month with family and friend birthdays and Easter and travel. I can't believe how the time is flying! One week flies into the next and it seems like it's all a blur. A happy blur.

And it feels fantastic.

Feeling Invisible

I don't really think of myself as a vain person. I mean, I CARE what I look like and I TRY to take care of myself but I don't think I'm particularly stuck on my looks. I would say that I'm fairly confident, in most physical areas, so maybe that does translate into vanity.

I'm not, however, one of those women that gets her nails done regularly, can't leave the house without her hair perfect, has an extensive wardrobe and doesn't like to get dirty. I guess the term I'm looking for here is high maintenance.

I like the way the "gel" nails (or whatever they are!) look, but they aren't practical for me. I always ruin them. I'm constantly in water or in nicer weather, in dirt. Not good. Not good at all. I have a hard enough time just dealing with my own short nails!

But, I saw a television show last night, that made me ponder the fact that maybe I just take certain things for granted. I can't even remember what the show is called, I just caught it flipping by and paused. It was about women and their journey to feeling better about themselves. They were trying to lose weight, but it showed them discussing their feelings about being heavier or about body image in general.

There was an "older" woman there, I think she said she was in her fifties. She looked pretty darn good to me!!! She was talking about how she works out and she tries her best to stay current, but that it didn't matter anyways. That at twenty or thirty, even overweight, you are still noticed. Still part of society. She said, and it made me gulp a little, that she felt INVISIBLE. In the gym, or walking down a street, she felt she would compare herself to others. She said, "heck, I probably even look pretty alright!" but that people, and by that I think she meant men really, didn't even take notice of her. The days of being an admired being were gone.

Yikes. It made me truly feel sad and chagrined. We all like the little looks we get from the opposite sex when we are out and about in our daily lives. I don't mean lecherous, exploitative looks-but the odd little glance or smile. We don't want or need to act on them, but it's nice to feel noticed. Appreciated. Admired. How must it feel to never have that again?

I know my Mom used to always say that when she walked with my sister and I, it felt odd to her that men that at one time would have been glancing her way, were now looking at her daughters. Ya, I imagine that would be creepy. I don't really look forward to that day. She said it in a humourous way, but now I wonder if it didn't also sting a little.

The woman in the show, like I said, was fairly attractive to me. I would expect men to still be appreciative of a woman that looked good, took care of herself, obviously put some effort in. I would hope men of her age would still glance, and smile. But this woman truly felt that her time for that had passed.

And that made me not only disappointed, but mad on a few levels. Firstly, WHY do we as women care so much about what cavemen males think about us anyways??? Why do we put so much stock in THEIR opinions? Why do we base our worth on their twisted logic? And secondly, why do men of a certain age think women of a certain age are now "too old" for them??? Men seem to somehow think that them looking at a twenty-five year old is not only acceptable but desired.
C-R-E-E-P-Y.

It certainly was a lesson for me in how I hope to age and grow. I can't control what others think about me. I can't change their viewpoints on aesthetics any more than I can their stance on religion or politics. I can however control how I feel about MYSELF. The aging process isn't going to stop. Time isn't going to stand still just for me. I already see lines starting and creases deepening. I see some sunspots and obvious freckles and sun damage. I can slow it down and I can do my best to take care of myself by eating healthy, exercising, and using whatever lotions and potions I need to keep my skin fresh or hydrated. Beyond that, time is my master and I am her slave.

Internally though, I can master my own self belief and confidence. I can walk with my head held high and a smile on my lips. I can have a twinkle in my eye for that cute grocery clerk or the man that holds the door open for me. I can certainly give a wink and a nod to that strong woman I see reflected back at me in the mirror whose opinion of herself comes from the determination she's gathered from years of living and learning.

I will never allow myself to feel invisible to others, but more importantly, to myself. And heck, maybe I'll be the sassy old lady that flirts nauseatingly with the young clerk at the bank. Why not? I'd rather be "me" than a shadow of my former self. And I bet they'll flirt back.

Stirred up for Slumdog

I watched the movie "Slumdog Millionaire" last night, finally, after a ton of amazing reviews from friends and of course, the Oscar wins.

It totally held my attention and like any good movie, made me think.

There were so many different issues going on that I was trying to process and think about for hours afterwards. Of course there were the images of the extreme poverty, the child exploitation, the cruelty and heartlessness.

But there was also a beautiful, heartbreaking love story. And it turns out that I've discovered I'm a sucker for a good romantic tale.

Most of the my life I would have said, and wholly believed, that I was the least romantic person out there. I was brought up in an environment of two divorces and well, let's just say, less than fairy tale romance conditions. Looking around me, I didn't see a lot of love stories that came true. So, cynically, I grew to loathe the whole "believing in everlasting, soul mate, love." I would have said I was more realistic than that. More pragmatic.

Well, as time marches on, I've learned that not only do I love seeing that kind of human devotion played out in books and on the big screen, I seek it out! But maybe that's also because of that internal cynicism. If it doesn't exist in real life, than what better way to experience it than to immerse myself in it for a few hours at least. It's the whole "living it vicariously" that is the draw.

The love story between Jamal and Latika is a purely unconditional one. Both characters sacrifice for the other in one way or another, to ensure the other is safe or just survives. And yet, throughout their lifetimes, they continue to seek each other out and remain constant in their care and concern and love for each other. That, to me, is to truly be loved wholly. They cannot seem to be ripped apart, their feelings cannot be abased, even in horrible situations and conditions. They never "give up" on each other.

In real life, and I'm referring to cushy, easy circumstances, many marriages and love stories fall apart in a matter of days, weeks, months, years. And these are lived without really ever being tested. You just rarely hear about the "great love" that has lasted throughout eternity. And maybe that's why we are drawn to such epic tales from the beginning of time forward.

I was in tears at the end of Slumdog. It's the classic "happily ever after" ending. I was touched by the courage and conviction of Jamal's character. I was touched by the lifetime love between he and Latika. It fulfilled my "true love conquers all" inner psychological needs. And yet the cynic in me lives on.

Only in the movies.

A Day In The Life

Today I thought I'd indulge your voyeurism and give you a sneak peek into the typical Tuesday in my little world. I know, you are on the edge of your seats. It's never dull around here, even though it may look it on paper. With that heady warning, read on!

7am Wake up groggily with one or both kids either yelling in my ear, or from their room to my room. If it's a daycare kid morning (I do before/after school care some days in the month) than I'm up at 645am. If not, it's supposed to be 7, but the truth is I lie there trying to convince myself to actually lift the covers and move my legs for a good 15 mins.

715am Actually get out of the bed

From this time until it's time to go to the bus, there is a flurry of activity. I get myself ready. Well, sort of. I brush my teeth, smooth the rat's nest that is passing for my hair, and wash my face. Some days I add a little makeup. I get dressed in whatever is easily accessible and head downstairs.

Once downstairs, it's breakfast. This consists, every day it's the same thing, of a waffle and a yogurt, with apple juice to drink, for my little one. For my eldest daughter it's either cereal and fruit with orange juice to drink, or an english muffin and fruit. While they are eating (read arguing) I make their lunches. The lunch making is actually pretty robotic. My kids are all about eating the same thing day after day. So, it's pretty easy by now. I could probably do it my sleep, and some mornings it feels like I am.

I then clear off the breakfast stuff and wipe the table, load the dishwasher, turn it on if need be. The girls are sent upstairs to brush hair, wash faces and brush teeth. I try to ignore the loud water splashing and bickering over who needs the bathroom stool and who doesn't.

If it's a daycare day, I leave with the first group of kids at 8am. I then come back when they are on their bus, and get my two. When I come in, they are supposed to be getting themselves dressed in snowsuits so that we can get out there quickly. Most days, they have started but are stopped halfway because someone stepped on someone else's hat or mitts, or sometimes even an appendage. This is usually the ugliest point of the morning. Lots and lots of bickering. I'm sure my neighbours find it entertaining to see us arguing all the way up the street each day.

Once I've kissed them and sent them on the bus, I come back home to QUIET.

830am Make my breakfast (english muffin or toast or cereal) and my coffee. I plunk myself down unceremoniously in front of the computer. Ah sweet, sweet silence. I spend about an hour surfing the net, checking my emails, checking facebook, going to my survey sites to see if there are any surveys for me to do for cash, and reading and replying on the "moms" boards I've belonged to for nine years now. I then write the blog.

930am Start the days chores. This is different depending on the day, but on Tuesdays I wash the towels and the girls clothes, and clean the bathrooms.

1030am Workout. This has evolved as well. I've done 5 Factor Fitness and Pilates, my treadmill and Pilates, all three of them etc. I'm now planning (I say planning because I haven't done it yet and have just spent ten days doing no physical activity really whatsoever) to do a 5k running program and some Zumba and Bar Method DVDs. On Monday, Wednesday and Thursday mornings I go to the gym though. Then I do a weight and cardio workout there.

1130am Make myself lunch. This is either a sandwich, or what I call a "picky" lunch. I like having a bunch of small things (which actually probably add up to a BIG thing) like a pita with hummus, olives, some cheese, tomato and a fruit like a nectarine or banana. I also decide what we are having for dinner and take anything out of the freezer or prepare in advance if need be.

1230pm Usually shower and get dressed "for real" and do my hair and makeup. On Tuesdays though, I don't bother. I know, gross right? The reality is that I go to the gym on Tuesday nights to workout so I just shower when I get home from there.

130pm Finish laundry and fold and put away. Tidy up and straighten if anything amiss.

2-3pm Sit on my duff. I either read or write or just think or surf the net. I call it meditation time. And trust me, I need it.

3pm Go get daycare kids, and then get my kids, from bus.

Get home, give snacks, check bags for notes and homework. Get dinner on the way. On Tuesdays, we eat early because we go to the gym for 530pm. The kids go to a class there, and I go and workout while they are busy running and playing. The daycare kids go, and we eat.

5pm Finish tidying dinner accouterments, get the kids ready for the gym, pack waters and shoes and bag, get out the door.

645pm Get home from the gym. The girls do any homework they might have and have a snack.

715pm Baths for the girls. Brush teeth, put on creams and chapstick. (the girls, not me. I'm still a sweaty mess)

745-8pm Girls read in bed. At 8 o'clock it's lights out for my youngest(who falls asleep in half a second) while my eldest reads until 830pm.

9pm Shower for mommy

From here I read, watch some shows and surf the net one last time. (it's an issue, I know)

11pm Bed. (ish) I'm not a great sleeper so I can ostensibly lie there for a good hour to hour and half. Sometimes longer.

And there you have it. Of course, you can add in other sundry details like "make phone calls" or "pay bills," but really, who wants to know that stuff? Other days are other chores and whatever, but you know the expression "same s&$%, different pile".....well, change pile for day and it works here too.

So now, while you are reading and so anxious and curious to know what goes on in my world (cough cough) you can rest assured that you have a detailed, chronological view.

What's that expression on Jon and Kate Plus 8? "It's a crazy life, but it's OUR life"?? Well, adapted for me and mine, "It's a routine life, but it's MY life." And trust me when I say, I'm all about the routine and consistency.

Now off to finish my coffee and peruse the latest on Perez.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

Did you miss the blog?

I've been away for a luxurious ten days of fun filled visits with friends and family. My girls had a great time with their cousins and family, and seeing their friends that they have missed. I got to see my best gals which is always laughter and comfort filled. I spent the time at my sisters catching up and making plans. And again with the laughter.

And now I'm back "home."

So for today, that involves many, many loads of laundry. It means stocking up on a large mass of groceries. It means trying to adjust to being back on the 'ol routine. And with the sun shining and a new month ahead, it also feels like it's time for a change. I'm not sure what that change will be, but I feel it in the air. Guess I'll just have to wait and see what the days bring.

Being back, it makes me realize that home truly is whatever you make of it. I am far away from my family and many of my lifelong friends. However, I'm creating a life in these new surroundings with new friends and activities and life experiences. When I go back to my old life, I miss being there. I miss all of the people and places and amenities. And yet, I see the beauty of here as well. Oh, it's definitely infinitely different. But there is something about that slower pace that appeals to me. There's something to lower costs of living and older homes and no housing developments. There's something to kids playing in the streets.

Does that make me less hopeful that I'll one day move back to that old comfortable home? Of course not. But it makes me want to relish my time here and make it as memorable and pleasant as it can be, for me and for my girls.

"Home" is truly where your heart lies. And while where I want to eventually "settle" may be a few hours away from where I currently reside, home is also where my family gathers to talk and play and love. And THAT could be anywhere in the world, as long as we are together.

"Home" lives in your heart, and not within the confines of four walls. So, make wherever you currently dwell feel like a soft landing place and be "at home" with yourself.

Retreat

I happened upon a book at the library a week or more ago, called "A Year By The Sea" by Joan Anderson.

It's a memoir of the time she spent away in Cape Cod as a hiatus from her life and all of its' demands. Her husband had accepted a position out of state and came home to announce they were moving. Her sons were grown men and out of the home. She felt like she had spent so many years in roles for others, that she no longer knew who she was inside. So, she told her husband she wasn't moving, and instead was going to take a year living at their cottage by the sea. The book chronicles her experience there and what she learned and came away with at the end.

In Joan, I saw so much of myself, or who I would be in some odd decade and a half. Personality wise there seemed many similarities as well. And the "search" I think, for most women, is easily transferable. Needless to say, I read through the book in about 2 hours. I then got another one of her books, "A Weekend To Change Your Life". She also has "An Unfinished Marriage" that I'd like to read. After her experience, she started hosting women's weekend retreats. She thinks it's very important that women "get away" for some time. Most don't have the luxury of a year like she did, or even 6 weeks like some of her friends did. But a weekend, hopefully, one can carve out. In "A Weekend To Change Your Life" she talks about what happens on those retreats and how you can do it yourself.

She said she saw friends hitting that searching or questioning period in their lives, and they found new careers, or went back to school, one came "out", another got divorced. She felt though that all they were doing was getting new labels and not really finding out about themselves.

As women, we tend to take on so many roles and so much of the caretaking of others. We have jobs and then come home to family and dinner and chores. Or, we stay home and spend our days making sure that everyone else's day around us runs smoothly. We volunteer, carpool, stand on school boards. We hold our friends up when they can't. We kiss scraped knees and mend broken hearts. We bake and clean and cook and iron. We encourage and support job ambitions. And at the end of the day, as one woman says in the book, "they don't give out a gold watch for menopause."

And yet, where in that day do we TRULY take time for ourselves? Even 20 minutes of pure alone time seems like an indulgence, at least to me. I feel guilty if I lie in bed extra long. I feel guilty if I go out to dinner and stay out longer. Too long. I feel guilty if I spend money on myself or if I didn't do any cleaning around the house that day. And if I went away for a weekend? I'd practically ruin it thinking about what my family was doing at home without me, or how they were managing. Why?????

Do men go away golfing and feel guilty? I don't think so. Do they feel guilty for guys nights and for making sure they don't miss their weeknight pick-up hockey game with friends? Again, I doubt it.

So what is it about being a woman that makes us feel so little regard for our own wants and needs?? And why does doing something for ourselves make us feel like we are acting selfishly or indulgently?

In the book, she advises that you get out a bunch of your childhood pictures and line them up in a chronological order and notice the subtle changes in your expression, in your clothing, in the shine in your eyes. She says to notice when "you started playing the role society imposed on you" and lost some of that quality that made you who you were as a child. How do we end up in these roles when we swore we wouldn't?

I would say I've changed a lot from the little kid that I was once upon a time. I was a kid that was always curious and getting into trouble because of it. I was always overly confident, overly sure of myself. I've always been bossy and a little sassy. But I always had a bit of a swagger-people like me, I'm smart, I'm pretty, I'm going to be whatever I want to be. Where did that go? Now, I question everything before I do it, I'd have an anxiety attack about doing something that was different or a change. I've lost that "too bad for them, I'm going to do it anyways and not worry what they think" quality about myself. I've lost my swagger. (though I'm still bossy and a little sassy)

By "getting away" though, she doesn't mean hanging out the whole time chatting with your friends and shopping. She thinks it's important for women to get back to themselves and the only way to truly "hear" yourself is in solitude. She advises to take a few hours of each day of a weekend away, all to yourselves. Walk somewhere new. Seek out a quiet spot. And just be. She recommends journaling and also gives some exercises to reflect on.

I know this all sounds very New Age-which is very much NOT me. But to say the books touched me in a very deep and personal way, as you can tell by how much I just wrote about them, is redundant. It's where I am currently in my own life.

While I'm certainly questioning "what I want to be when I grow up," there is a deeper part of me that wants to reclaim who I am as a person. What "I" am interested in. What makes me passionate and happy and joyful. So that, while I can't completely shun my role and nor do I want to, I can come at it with a renewed sense of self. And a sense of balance to all of the things I am to others versus all of the things I am to MYSELF.

So, I think a girls weekend is in order. I'd love to go on one of the author's retreats, but I'd settle for a bunch of my women friends, and a weekend by a lake. I am sure that laughter and tears and wine would be on the agenda, but I also think some time to touch base with my inner self would be there too. And really, who better to do that with than a bunch of your girl friends?
For surely they can see in you what you can't see in yourself. It's like a true mirror held up for you to look into, rather than the funhouse mirrors we so often see reflected back with our own eyes.

I really recommend you check out the books. Maybe they won't touch you as they did me. Maybe you aren't in the searching mode, yet. Maybe they are just too hokey for you. But for those of you wondering and seeking, they are worth the read. (http://www.randomhouse.com/features/unfinished/index.html)

Who's up for a road trip?

Just......Breathe

Today, it's dark and grey and dismal outside. But, the temperature is above zero and is supposed to remain that way for the next week. I can't express how much I need that warmth! It seems like it's been a long time coming!

I have some more house cleaning I need to do today (hiss, boo!) and I really should work out. I've been totally slacking. I haven't gone to the gym, I haven't done my new Zumba, I haven't done my new Bar Method. I haven't felt much like doing, well, anything.

Tonight the girls have swimming lessons again. My eldest passed her level (it's been five tries now!) and my youngest is still in the same level. While they are at their swimming, I have to do some shopping. My eldest has a sleepover birthday party to attend on Saturday, so I have to pick up a gift for her friend and get a few other things.

Tomorrow the girls go to their cooking class and I go to the gym. Afterwards is the sleepover for the eldest. I think I'll try and do a fun night with my little one. Maybe a pedicure and a movie. A girly night for her too.

Sunday is the ever exciting grocery shopping day. Again I say, boo hiss.

BUT-the exciting time is coming up! I cannot wait to go home for March Break. I probably won't blog that week while I'm away, but you never know. I just might surprise you! It will depend if I can wrestle my niece away from the computer long enough. We have a whole lot of fun activities planned so I hope to be a little busy combined with a lot relaxing.

The longer I sit here, the less I feel like doing those chores. I have a book just calling my name. Maybe I should just make a nice cup of Bengal Spice tea and curl up with my book. The last few months have been so stressful and I've been on such "high alert" all of the time, I feel like I just have had all of the energy sapped right out of me. It seems like every day has been a new crisis or new drama, and I feel like I just need some days, weeks, months to get centered again. A lot of people resort to sleeping pills or Prozac or whatever it takes to get through the day. I can understand that need, but it's just not me. My elixer is always some quiet reflection time, coupled with some zoning out time, coupled with some working out time.

I feel like I've been holding my breath for months, and now it's time to just....breathe.

Mad At The World

I woke up this morning and didn't feel like writing the blog today. I just wasn't in the mood. In fact, I'd say I'm in a rather foul mood.

I'm sick and tired of bad things happening to good people, and bad people getting off scott free. There, I said it.

For all of those that believe in "Karma," I think it's crap. I truly do. I have known some truly horrendous individuals, and I waited a good and long time for them to "get theirs" and I don't think they ever did.

In fact, right now today, at this very moment, there are people out there that are oblivious to the needs or feelings of others. They sit in their glass houses, high above we small plebeians, and cast many stones. They are above helping someone they don't know, that is in need. They are above being kind to others. Some of them don't even care about the ruin and destruction they leave in their wake, as long as their own personal worlds are intact. It would physically pain them to go out of their comfort zone to aid another struggling human being.

And then there are people that would truly give you the shirt off of their back. That are wonderful mothers and sisters and parents and friends. That do "little things" for someone else every day, never seeking recognition or kudos. That nurture and caretake for the simple reason that someone else "needs" them. That don't deserve anything less than a life of happiness and butterflies and singing in the rain.

Why, oh why, do the crappy people seem to always come out okay, and the wonderful people have to haul heavy burdens???

I know there are theories galore about all of this. That the more bad stuff we experience, the more we learn and the more we are enriched, which in turn actually makes us even BETTER, FULLER individuals. That the crappy people never expand their empathy and kindness and life experience, which is why they stay shallow and superficial.

I don't really know and I don't really care, today. I'm tired of it all. I want something spectacularly good to happen to someone I know that deserves it. I don't want to punish those who also deserve it, because I never wish negativity on others. But I sometimes hope that there is "Karma". And that it strikes soon and it strikes hard. I guess that is kind of negative, after all. But like I said, I don't really believe in Karma so I guess that's moot.

But I do wish positivity on all of those out there who live their lives conscientiously and with integrity. In fact, I'm standing here, fists in the sky, demanding it.

Sixth Sense

Do you ever get that feeling in your gut, which comes on suddenly, that "something" is about to happen??? It's an eerie kind of intuition that either warns or informs that there is something big around the corner, in the air, about to occur.

I've had it happen to me several times throughout my life, and I guess you'd call it a sixth sense. Unfortunately, it hasn't happened when I would have liked it to, such as in warning of something hurtful or serious about to strike, but it has given me the pervasive feeling that "something this way cometh." And I never know if that's going to be good, or bad. It's just a weird notion that hangs over me and that I can never really put my finger on.

The last time I remember it happening clearly was in April of 2007. I remember the date because I had written about it on my online journal at the time. When the feeling came, I sensed change was in the air. I wrote that I felt that something big was about to happen for me or for my family. We found out three months later that my husband had received a promotion that would require us to move four hours away and essentially uproot our entire lives.

But that's the other thing about this sixth sense. I never know if it will be happening tomorrow, or months from now. That's very annoying. It would be nice to have some accuracy with this gift I am supposedly lucky to have inherited. Would it be too difficult to pinpoint a date??

So, all of this to say, I have the feeling again. To make it even more strange, my friend who lives not only across the country, but in ANOTHER country (USA) has the same feeling. Now, does that mean my feeling is for HER? Does it mean hers is for ME? Or do we both just have a creepy feeling for our respective lives? Very confusing. I guess it's not an exact science or I could be the next Nostradamus.

So, I live with the foreboding thought that the winds are about to blow something my way. Will it be good news or not so good news? Will it be for me or someone else? When will it happen?

Or maybe I'm just crazy. I know many people might agree with that sentiment instead! But, of course, I can sense that they are wrong.

A Whole Lotta Nothin'

So todays's blog is just going to be a random update about all of the stuff going on currently in my family's life. Currently meaning now and in the near future. You know, cause I'm sure you're all chomping at the bit to know what goes on in these four walls.

Firstly, I got news last night from my sister that my Dad is going back into the hospital. Sigh. My sister had called and his wife said that since he got home he hasn't been eating, drinking or showering much. He's just sleeping a lot and lying around. In that time, about a week, he's lost nine pounds as well. She said she wasn't going to watch him fade away, so he's going back to the doctor today and she thinks back in the hospital. I honestly think it's just my Dad being my Dad and that he needs some tough love and a kick in the butt. The nurses did that in the hospital, but I think his wife is so concerned about nurturing him and taking care of him-she's not doling out the strict side you need with my Dad. I know if my sister talks to him, she'll dish it out to him though! Yikes!

Next, and I'm so excited about this, we are headed back "home" for March Break. We are going a bit early so we have even extra time to see my family and friends, whom I literally miss every day. It's hard being away from your support system, and nothing warms the heart or brings inner peace like being with those who know all of your faults (not saying that "I" have any of course!) but love you anyways. My daughters get to see their cousins, and their Granny, and their Aunt and Uncle, plus all of their friends. We are doing a bunch of fun activities, but really for me, it's just about being there. Being "home."

I have entered a bunch of contests lately to win various prizes like a trip for four to PEI, a trip for two to Ireland, a weekend at a spa and a million dollars. I'd take any and all of those things, though the million dollars probably wins out because then I could do all of those things anyways and share some of the wealth too. I have a friend who used to enter every contest out there, and she won all of the time too! She has since passed away, but I think of her all of the time when I enter these contests (and throughout my days in general!) and know she's probably cracking up. (I'm hoping she's also going to help me out a little too!!! Janet-a sista needs a win here!) So, if I am suddenly missing, don't be worried. It just means I've won and I'm off bathing in my millions like Scrooge McDuck.

Today I'm stripping beds and doing laundry and cleaning bathrooms. Don't hate. I know you are jealous! Once I'm finished my chores for the day, I'm going to do a little Zumba and Bar Method and see how I like them. The sun is shining and with so much on the horizon, it feels like something big is just around the corner.

Hopefully a GOOD something big.

The Scales of Injustice

I hate the scale. Not that most women love it or anything, but I truly hate it.

I'm actually doing well in the "once a month" weighing thing that I had vowed. But every time I step on that dreaded piece of equipment, I'm disappointed.

I just don't get it. I'm also taking my inches, and THEY are coming off. My clothes, once fitting tightly or just barely (picture a stuffed sausage) are now fitting loosely. All of this is GREAT, FANTASTIC, AWESOME news. I'm not complaining about that.

I am complaining about the scale. I've lost some weight. But why, oh why, does the scale seem to move so slowly? When I try something on and it's loose, I expect the scale to have dropped more drastically. But nope. Barely. I expect it to be a lot lower, every single time.

I was working out, hard, 6x a week. After reaching the burnout I knew would happen, I took a week off. I'm now switching up my workout and working out 4x a week. Still hard, but less intense than before. I'm watching what I eat, mostly, and trying to eat lots of fruit and vegetables. Yet, still, the scales torturous needle barely moves. It's almost mocking me. I even do all of the wives tales of weighing that women adhere to doing. You know what I'm talking about ladies. Don't pretend you don't also weigh first thing in the morning, naked, before a morsel has touched your lips and after you've gone to the bathroom. You know it's true.

This week, I'm going to try to really watch my diet and see if I'm eating too many calories and see if I can nip that back a little. I'm going to amp up the workout by adding two new components. I'm at the gym those 4x a week, so I'm going to try and add some DVD's at home. I got a Bar Method DVD (combination of Pilates, Yoga and Ballet) and I'm looking for a Zumba DVD. Hopefully that will help as well.

I have a vision, and I'm going to reach it. I told myself that this time, I'd let the process take "as long as it's going to take" and that I'd just keep plugging along. So, that's what I'm doing. But man, I really wish that scale would MOVE. JUMP. DROP.

I'm not a slave to the scale, by any means. But it's hard to eat yet another salad and do yet another chin up when the scale barely budges.

I'm stubborn though, and I AM seeing results, so I just need to focus on that. I don't want to feel like that commercial where the women are walking along with the scale attached to their ankle. But I do curse my slow metabolism!!! Thanks Mom!

This is a fight I intend on winning. One painfully slow number on the scale at a time.