I strained my back yesterday. I think it was from when my body was violently rejecting the antibiotic the doc prescribed. Seriously. I thought my stomach was going to turn inside out. While I was in the bathroom Matthew was standing beside me saying "Whatchoo doin' Mom?" To make matters worse, I think this drug, that is making me feel miserable, is doing nothing for my lingering cough.
In order to make my back feel better I decided to poison my brain with what is probably one of the worst movies ever made: Titanic II. It is hilariously bad, and if you are so inclined, could easily make an awesome drinking game out of this movie. In my current, weakened condition that was not advisable.
I am getting so very frustrated with my body right now. I just want some energy back. I want my appetite to come back. I want to go running again. I want to STOP being sick dagnabit! It feels like I have wasted my favourite season this year by being sick. I have missed out on fun with my husband, friends and family. Even my Sparks group had to suffer when I had to cancel a meeting.
The kids are getting sick around me and now the dog is in on it too and will actually need some surgery this week. It feels like all I do is sit around in waiting rooms right now!!
Please tell me there is an end in sight.
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
It gets better.
I wore purple yesterday. Why? Because I wanted to show my support to the families of the teens who recently took their lives because of terrible bullying due to their sexual orientation, perceived or otherwise.
A lot of people have been writing essays and posting videos to reassure teens at risk It Gets Better.
If I knew someone was being bullied at school, this is what I would say to them:
Now, I have no idea what it feels like to be gay, but I do know what it feels like to be brutally bullied for years and years through elementary and middle school. I actually think I am claustrophobic to this day because of an incident in elementary school involving a hoarde of kids knocking my glasses off and backing me into a dark corner. I could go on and on about the emotional, verbal, and physical abuse I suffered through.
You know what? It does get better. It is so hard to see it when you wake up in the morning afraid to go to school, and then come home and cry because of whatever the assholes did to you that day. I know this. I also know the importance of finding peaceful times in the chaos. Summer camp. Visits to my Grandma's. My annual new-clothes shopping trip with my Aunt in the Big City. No one knew they should pick on me at summer camp so I got to let my guard down and make friends. Loving Grandmas and caring Aunts are always great to have in your back pocket.
Hopefully if you are bullied you can find some peace like this to recharge your batteries and get ready for the next assault.My parents of course were at the core of this. They sent me on these trips. They let me skip school on days when the potential for bullying was extra-high. They did the best they could to help me. I hope your parents are there for you too.
Make a real exit plan. Get some far-away college brochures. Skim MLS listings and find your imaginary apartment, get a crappy job and start socking away some money.
If you can give the big F-U to the podunk town that didn't understand or respect you, you will find your niche. You will find people who will love you for who you are. The years after I first moved away and had to scrape by on a student loan were some of the most fun of my life. I found out how much fun you can have with how little--laughs are free!
To this day I am often surprised by the generosity of my good friends. You will be too. Trust me.
Please. Just hang in there. You are worth it. The world needs you.
And really. Living well is the best revenge.
A lot of people have been writing essays and posting videos to reassure teens at risk It Gets Better.
If I knew someone was being bullied at school, this is what I would say to them:
Now, I have no idea what it feels like to be gay, but I do know what it feels like to be brutally bullied for years and years through elementary and middle school. I actually think I am claustrophobic to this day because of an incident in elementary school involving a hoarde of kids knocking my glasses off and backing me into a dark corner. I could go on and on about the emotional, verbal, and physical abuse I suffered through.
You know what? It does get better. It is so hard to see it when you wake up in the morning afraid to go to school, and then come home and cry because of whatever the assholes did to you that day. I know this. I also know the importance of finding peaceful times in the chaos. Summer camp. Visits to my Grandma's. My annual new-clothes shopping trip with my Aunt in the Big City. No one knew they should pick on me at summer camp so I got to let my guard down and make friends. Loving Grandmas and caring Aunts are always great to have in your back pocket.
Hopefully if you are bullied you can find some peace like this to recharge your batteries and get ready for the next assault.My parents of course were at the core of this. They sent me on these trips. They let me skip school on days when the potential for bullying was extra-high. They did the best they could to help me. I hope your parents are there for you too.
Make a real exit plan. Get some far-away college brochures. Skim MLS listings and find your imaginary apartment, get a crappy job and start socking away some money.
If you can give the big F-U to the podunk town that didn't understand or respect you, you will find your niche. You will find people who will love you for who you are. The years after I first moved away and had to scrape by on a student loan were some of the most fun of my life. I found out how much fun you can have with how little--laughs are free!
To this day I am often surprised by the generosity of my good friends. You will be too. Trust me.
Please. Just hang in there. You are worth it. The world needs you.
And really. Living well is the best revenge.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Sick
Hello bloggy friends!
Have you missed me? I'll bet you think I have been off on glamorous adventures and that is why I have been lax with my posting.
It has been nothing that exotic. We are full of The Sick around here. I have not been myself for a few weeks now. It started out as a little cough, then I had fever and chills that turned into distressing stomach upset, and now I am having fevers again. I lost almost five pounds in a week. My appetite is still nowhere to be found. The kids have all been trading a cough around since school began.
I am so sick that the case of Girl Guide Cookies in my front entryway has not tempted me in the least and I am usually down for the count by 9:00 PM.
I promise I will call my doctor today. I need to find my energy again. (those five pounds can stay away though)
Have you missed me? I'll bet you think I have been off on glamorous adventures and that is why I have been lax with my posting.
It has been nothing that exotic. We are full of The Sick around here. I have not been myself for a few weeks now. It started out as a little cough, then I had fever and chills that turned into distressing stomach upset, and now I am having fevers again. I lost almost five pounds in a week. My appetite is still nowhere to be found. The kids have all been trading a cough around since school began.
I am so sick that the case of Girl Guide Cookies in my front entryway has not tempted me in the least and I am usually down for the count by 9:00 PM.
I promise I will call my doctor today. I need to find my energy again. (those five pounds can stay away though)
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Scenes from the school bus stop.
My card reader is breaking down. So, instead of cute pictures of kids frolicking in autumn leaves, you get a story about what I see at the school bus stop. I feel kind of like Jane Goodall most mornings.
Where I live there is no high school close by. So, in addition to little kids like Charlotte who bus to the French Immersion schools, all of the teenagers in the area get bussed off to the various high schools scattered across the other side of town. (This also puts me in the enviable position of getting a choice in what High School my kids go to.)
I have been enjoying my walks to school with Charlotte and have been having fun eavesdropping on all of the conversations that happen around me.
There is one girl who gets on the bus who seems quite troubled. She slouches, usually has a sullen look on her face and hides behind a protective veneer of thick black eyeliner and long, crayon-coloured hair. Her conversation is punctuated with curse words and always revolves around how unfair her mother is to her. She "hates" the preppy girls and has to drive her boyfriend around when he drinks too much. One day I heard all about her grounding and learned all of the things a mother must take away from a teenager in order to lock her down. (The clincher? In addition to the predictable car keys and cell phone, the debit card should also be confiscated.) Today, this girl was sitting curled up tightly on the floor of the school vestibule with her hoody pulled so tight around her face you could only make out her angry, kohl-rimmed eyes. My heart went out to her.
The fresh-faced popular girls cluster in their own group. They are characterized by their inappropriately short skirts and hot pants, even on the mornings when the temperature is barely hovering above Freezing. Their hair is long, shiny and their conversation runs the gamut from boys to homework to what is playing on their ipods. Very predictable, really.
The boys hang back, they don't talk much. They just stare ahead, waiting for the bus. Some of them have football gear with them in the colours of the Big High School on the other edge of town. A couple carry band instruments. They all have big black zippered binders and earphones plugged in their ears.
There is one girl that stands away from the packs. She is very quiet, wears glasses, and only has one or two friends who stand with her. She keeps her phone close at all times. She shyly glances at my Charlotte while we wait and quietly snickers at the funny things she says from time to time.
Over my weeks of quiet observation I found myself drawn to her. One day I managed to walk past her house as she was leaving for the bus stop. She lives a block from me. I started to plan my attack.
I made sure to stand by her when waiting with Charlotte but I didn't engage her in conversation. Just a quick glance and a smile. She smiled back.
Yesterday when I noticed her noticing Charlotte playing around I made a small offhand comment, then turned away from her.
Today I made my approach. I mentioned that I just moved here and told her where we live. Her eyes brightened up and she indicated she lived one street over. I asked her if she babysits. I asked her to text me her phone number since I left my phone at home.
She did.
I caught myself a babysitter!
Where I live there is no high school close by. So, in addition to little kids like Charlotte who bus to the French Immersion schools, all of the teenagers in the area get bussed off to the various high schools scattered across the other side of town. (This also puts me in the enviable position of getting a choice in what High School my kids go to.)
I have been enjoying my walks to school with Charlotte and have been having fun eavesdropping on all of the conversations that happen around me.
There is one girl who gets on the bus who seems quite troubled. She slouches, usually has a sullen look on her face and hides behind a protective veneer of thick black eyeliner and long, crayon-coloured hair. Her conversation is punctuated with curse words and always revolves around how unfair her mother is to her. She "hates" the preppy girls and has to drive her boyfriend around when he drinks too much. One day I heard all about her grounding and learned all of the things a mother must take away from a teenager in order to lock her down. (The clincher? In addition to the predictable car keys and cell phone, the debit card should also be confiscated.) Today, this girl was sitting curled up tightly on the floor of the school vestibule with her hoody pulled so tight around her face you could only make out her angry, kohl-rimmed eyes. My heart went out to her.
The fresh-faced popular girls cluster in their own group. They are characterized by their inappropriately short skirts and hot pants, even on the mornings when the temperature is barely hovering above Freezing. Their hair is long, shiny and their conversation runs the gamut from boys to homework to what is playing on their ipods. Very predictable, really.
The boys hang back, they don't talk much. They just stare ahead, waiting for the bus. Some of them have football gear with them in the colours of the Big High School on the other edge of town. A couple carry band instruments. They all have big black zippered binders and earphones plugged in their ears.
There is one girl that stands away from the packs. She is very quiet, wears glasses, and only has one or two friends who stand with her. She keeps her phone close at all times. She shyly glances at my Charlotte while we wait and quietly snickers at the funny things she says from time to time.
Over my weeks of quiet observation I found myself drawn to her. One day I managed to walk past her house as she was leaving for the bus stop. She lives a block from me. I started to plan my attack.
I made sure to stand by her when waiting with Charlotte but I didn't engage her in conversation. Just a quick glance and a smile. She smiled back.
Yesterday when I noticed her noticing Charlotte playing around I made a small offhand comment, then turned away from her.
Today I made my approach. I mentioned that I just moved here and told her where we live. Her eyes brightened up and she indicated she lived one street over. I asked her if she babysits. I asked her to text me her phone number since I left my phone at home.
She did.
I caught myself a babysitter!
Friday, October 1, 2010
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