"Change, when it comes, cracks everything open."
Dorothy Allen

Thursday, February 28, 2013

To be amazing

Today, I was thinking about what I wanted to post tonight.  I was going to post a write up about how I wanted to be amazing.  Not just be amazing, but be soooo amazing that other people are thrown into a complete state of awe about my amazing-osity, and just have to remark about it.  I want to be so amazing that I hear about it all the time, and I am a little bit embarrassed when people feel the need to gush over me.

That's how amazing I want to be.

Ok, I admit, I am feeling a little low.  A bit under appreciated, and taken for granted.  I do my best for people that really don't believe in much feedback or reinforcement.  Wait, that's not fair, and it is not true.  Sebastian says thank you all  the time.  He touches my face and brushes my hair.  He tells me I am beautiful and funny.  He asks me every single day "How are you feeling today, Mommy?"  and "How  was your sleeps last night?"  But he can also be incredibly selfish and demanding and short-sighted.  He is obsessive and completly focused on his own wants and needs.  It is part of the disorder, and one we work on.  He is also an 11 year old boy, by it's very nature a selfish beast.
Sawyer can also be loving and sweet and complimentary.  When I was talking to myself about my wrinkles around my eyes the other day, she took my face in her hands and kissed my crows feet.  She told me that I have magic eyes.  Who can't love that??  But she too can try to run the house like a little dictator and can sometimes need to be reminded of her p's and q's. She always wants to help and to be involved, but can run low on patience alot of the time.  And Geoff...well, he's just never here.  When he is, he's asleep.  No help there.

So, I was having myself a nice little pity party tonight.  As I went about my nightly routine, dinner and homework and games and cleaning...I kept thinking about all of the lavish praise that I would love to have heaped on my head.  I had a nice little fantasy going, where friend and family and even random strangers felt this uncontrollable need to pull me aside and say "Anita, I just have to tell you...I have no idea how you do what you do...I am in awe because....." The stream of imaginary compliments was endless.

I had even gone so far as to plan a blog about it.  I was going to compliment myself.  I was going to give myself the recognition that I (selfishly) thought at the time that I deserved.  I was going to point out all those little things, the day to day things, the never ending, completely selfless, heartbreakingly enduring things that have just become a part of my daily routine.  Those things that, seriously, no one but me thinks about.  I was already writing it in my head.

Then it fell apart.

It started innocently enough.  Sawyer is going to speech therapy (just started yesterday) and we have a bit of homework.  There are some sheets, with games and puzzles and other fun things, that will help her with her end-of-word S sound.  She asked if we could play, so we did.

We had gone through 3 homework sheets already, and she wanted to start on the 4th.  I was starting to watch the clock, knowing we were running close on time, for baths before bed.  Sebastian has snuck TV tonight when I was working overtime, so I wanted to try and cut him off, before he reached hour 4 (yeah, yeah, I know, I know.  Every day's a new battle.)  I told her this was enough and we were done. She got "that look".  The lowered head, the glare under her bangs.  Arms crossed and an ever increasing volume to her "hrrmphs!!" to let me know how displeased she is.  I started to pack up the papers and little bits and she went off.

"NO!"  Screams it.  I stop picking up, look at her with my own mom look, shake my head.  Start cleaning up again.

"NOOOO!!!"  Really loud now.  Seriously, she went from 0 to 100 mph, in about 5 seconds.

I know this.  She doesn't do it often and most times, it's because she's tired.  I also know that once she gets going, there is little that I can do to derail Supertrain Sawyer, except let her run herself down.

I tell her at this point that I don't like the way that she is talking to me.  If she can't be polite and talk kindly to me, then we are truly done and that she can go to her room until she is ready to be a nice girl again.  This goes nowhere, and after one more extremely loud NO yelled in my face, I scoop her up and carry her to her room.   Trust me, there is no anger on my part in this.  I don't like it, but I also understand what she is going through.  Anger and disappointment are very hard things to control.  Once they are unleashed, you can't reign them back in.  She is still learning that control.  I don't fault her for raging.  In fact, I wish I could do it more often.

But I digress.

I take her to her room, plunk her on the bed and ask her to please stay there for a few minutes.  She is crying now and screaming.  I walk to the door, and shut it tight.  I hear her follow me to the now shut door.  The kicking starts a couple of seconds later. 

After about 5 good blows to the door, I head back in.  She is fuming.  I try and talk to her, to get her to think through the cause and effect of what happened.  We were playing.  Mommy stopped the game.  Mommy made Sawyer go to her room.  What happened that made that happen?  I can see her thinking, but no way, no how is she giving up the goods.  She hauls her foot back to kick the door again.  Instead, she boots the cat that was twining it's way between her feet.

Right away, her face goes white.  The switch from anger to fear is immediate.  She darts a look at me and immediately hangs her head, embarrassed and afraid of my reaction. I do raise my voice because I want this to imprint on her, to be a lesson she remembers.

I talk to her about bullies, and how bullies lash out to hurt other people when they are angry.  She knows about bullies from school talks and from conversations with me.  She doesn't like them.  They are the ulitmate bad guys to her right now.  I tell her that I know it was an accident, but when you get that angry, it becomes much too easy to hurt someone else, either with your hands or feet or even your words.

But she isn't ready to listen.  She is embarrassed, but the anger is still there, and it's starting to muffle my message.  I decide to leave her to herself again, to think.  I shut the door.

I gather Sebastian up and get him moving on his evening clean ups.  I tidy the kitchen and living room.  I am just heading back upstairs with laundry, when I hear her voice through her door.  She is talking to herself, loudly and determinedly.

I squat by her door to listen.

"I don't like Mommy.  I always don't like her.  She is mean.  She is soooo mean.  And rude.  Mean and rude.  I don't like Mommy at all today or always".

At first I smile a little.  The drama queen is in full swing.  I sit on the floor to see if anything else comes up in the conversation with herself.   The dog, who still loves me, lays his head in my lap.  The cats come close and snuggle.  We all listen to her rant and rave and rage behind her closed door.

The message stays the same.  But it continues.  Sometimes she cries with the force of her words and the feelings behind it.  One time, she says she only likes Daddy.  I think that was the point that I realized that I had stopped smiling and started crying.

Oh, she broke my heart.

It is silly to say it.  She's 4.  I know that she really doesn't mean the words.  But then, again, she does.  She does mean them.  At that exact moment, with the feeling and emotion that is wrapped in her little body, she means every single bit of it.  I know she will love me tomorrow.  I know that she loves me now.  But she also thinks that I am the worst thing in her life right now.  It was a hard pill to swallow.

So now, I have a choice.  What do I do?  Do I kick in the door and tell her that I am none too fond of her either?  No, no way. 
Do I ignore it, and pretend I didn't hear it?  Chalk it up to a 4 year old temper tantrum and leave it be?
Do I turn this into a lecture and a lesson?  Reinforce that "words can hurt" message that I just delivered?

What to do?

I decided to just talk to her.  And just before I knocked on that door, I realized how truly un-amazing I was.  How greedy and selfish and self-absorbed.  And I was ashamed.

I knocked and she answered.  All I said was "Sawyer, I could hear what you were saying."  And she shut the door.  Slowly.  No slam.

I stayed there, and waited.  After a minute, she opened the door again.  Just looked at me.  And I looked at her.  She tried to smile and look away and play with the cats.  I didn't say anything.  Just waited.

Eventually she took a step out.  I asked her how she thought I was feeling right then.  Was I mad?  Was I happy?

"Sad".  So soft.  Just a whisper really.

"Do you know why?"

"Because I said mean things."

"No, Sawyer.  It's because I think that my little girl doesn't like me, and it breaks my heart."  I can barely get it out, through the tears.

Before I finish the sentence, she throws herself across the hall and wraps her whole body around me.  She and I both cry, together, I can feel her shake.  This is real, raw.

Finally, I pull back and she kisses my cheek.  She doesn't say sorry.  She asks if I want to watch TV with her.  I said no, that I was tired.  She comes back and hugs me hard again, and stays that way for a long time.  Finally, I pat her, and say it's time to get ready for bed. She does so, without arguement.

Did  I handle that right?  I have no idea.  All I can say is that it was honest. Hopefully that's good enough.

So, I'm not amazing. I'm barely getting by.  Right now, I am happy with "good enough".

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "no parades and parties here.  Just another regular day."

Monday, February 25, 2013

I believe

I think I have talked before about my obsession with Netflix.  Love it.  Watch it all the time.

I get involved with certain shows and will watch and watch.  I have gone through Freaks and Geeks, Undeclared, Special Victims Unit, Everybody Loves Raymond and have sampled even more.  My latest interest in is Destination Truth.

It's a show about different myths/paranormal legends being investigated.  The main guy, Josh Gates,  is cute and funny.  The investigations are interesting and completely up my alley.

They have captured on film some strange things.  Although they always go in completely skeptical, there have been times when when they have not been able to explain what is going on.

Orbs in a haunted fort in Key West

Seriously.  I am watching the show right now.  A creepy doll just opened it's eye, on an island of haunted dolls.  I am freaking out.  Horrible.

Anyway..not so much about the hauntings but the creatures.  That's why I wanted to do this blog. This show gives me hope.

I think I have talked about before the fact that I love to believe in things.  Fairies, elves, Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster.  I want to believe that they are real, as real as you or I.  I am a believer.  I don't tell a lot of people that.  Not that I am hiding it, but it's really not something that comes up in every day conversation.

"Hey, how you doin'?"
"Great! You?"
"Pretty good.  Did you know that I believe in Bigfoot?"

Yeah, really doesn't come up much.

And when people do find out, lots of them look at me like I am an idiot.  Seriously, I think people assume I am all of a sudden stupider.

me and Dawn ghost hunting with the EMFMore orbs

A small tangent here.  In my experience (remember- MY experience- this isn't true of everyone) non-believers in...anything...tend to be overly rigid, sanctimonious assholes.  Not always, but sometimes.  And I don't mean just ghost non-believers.  People that don't believe in ghosts or God or whatever- they seem to judge much more harshly than those that do.  I guess you just have to have a bit more of an open mind to be a believer, so maybe you are just more open to others, as well as experiences.  They will ask you to prove to them that God or ghosts or fairies exist, that they won't believe without concrete evidence.  Meanwhile, they can't definitively prove that they don't.

And thus, my segue into my faith being restored by a TV show.  On this show, they travel the world looking for myths and legends and monsters.  In one, when in South America, they are talking about the Amazon.  A scientist is talking about how the Amazon is the size of the continental Unites States (including Alaska) and only 1-2% of it has been extensively explored and cataloged.  The scientist stated, when asked if it was possible for there to be creatures out there that haven't been discovered yet, that it would be the height of irresponsibility on the part of science to assume that we, as humans, have seen and found all that there is to find.  I concur.  Wholeheartedly.

Dawn and I, so excited about getting EMF
In another episode, when searching in Vietnam, they spoke with a woman scientist that was there researching tigers.  She had been there for almost 20 years, living in the bush, working and learning.  In 20 years, she had only viewed tigers (the main reason she was there, remember!!) only 4 times in the wild.  4 times!!!!  A larger creature, the Asian Elephant, she had seen twice.

So, for all of you that say "if Bigfoot exists, we would be seeing it all the time (remember, there are 100s of sightings every year- you naysayers just ignore them as kooks), that you would be finding bodies (they don't find the bodies of bears in the woods, that have died of natural causes.  Most carcasses left are killed by humans and even then, would be picked clean by scavengers in a matter of hours, or days at most)- Eff you.  Totally.

I am a believer.  Nothing you can say will ever change my mind.  You can think I am stupid, or silly, or crazy.  I think the belief makes my life richer and deeper and full of more mystery and happiness and magic, than those of you that think you know everything.  I feel a little sorry for you.

Yep, I'm a jerk that way. :)

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "non-believers, get out of the way!"

Thursday, February 21, 2013


Last summer, 2012, was the "Summer of Bruce" for my sister in law, Dawn and I .  We saw him in Cleveland in April, in Toronto in August and in Hamilton in October.  For those of you that don't know which Bruce I am talking about, that would be Bruce Springsteen.  Or Uncle Bruce as we like to affectionately call him.

I have loved Bruce Springsteen since I was a kid.  One of the very first albums I ever owned, along side Karma Chameleon by Culture Club and Purple Rain by Prince, was Born in the USA.  I would play that album constantly on my parent's giant floor model record player, dancing in the basement.

I wish I could find it, but I vividly remember writing a journal entry about Bruce when I was about 15 or 16 years old, after having watched the Dancing in the Dark video (yes the one with Courtney Cox).  I don't remember the specifics of it, but I do remember the last line that I wrote was "Bruce Springsteen makes it cool for guys to dance."  He did.  And he still does.  Take my word for it, the man has moves.  He still works it.

I have trouble deciding on my favourite song of his.  There are so many.  I love different ones at different times.  Of course the popular ones are great- they are popular for a reason- Born to Run, Glory Days, Thunder Road...all amazing.  The older stuff is great- the Born to Run album and Darkness on the Edge of Town have some amazing tracks.  The River, Badlands, Jungleland, 10th Avenue Freezeout, Rosalita (which I dance to with my Rosie.  I tell her it is her song.)  And they tell amazing stories.

And I think that's what I love about Bruce and his songwriting.  His songs are stories.  He is blue collar, and intelligent and wordy and dark.  His songs are almost impossible to sing along with, because of the words and the phrases and texture of them.  I remember reading an interview with Stephen King, from back in the late 80's.  He had been asked who he would like to see play the different parts in The Stand, if it were ever to be made into a movie (and of course it was).  He said that had always envisioned Bruce Springsteen playing Stu, that even though he is from New Jersey, he has that classic everyman, southern, good old boy quality that would represent the true nature he had tried to write into Stu.   I was upset when Gary Sinise was the one that eventually did.  :(

So, anyway...I digress.  Summer of Bruce.  Back on track.

Last year, Bruce released a new album- Wrecking Ball. Dawn and I got the album early, so that we would be at least a bit familiar with the songs by the time we saw the first show in April.  We loved it.

The tone of a lot of the songs is very much like his old stuff.  Both of us were instantly drawn to some of the songs- Jack of all trades, Death to our Hometown, We are alive- all of them have the ability to send a chill up my spine and had me dancing and screaming and singing and yes, even crying in my seat at every single show.  But the biggest and the baddest of the songs was the title track, Wrecking Ball.

If you have never been to a Bruce Springsteen show, you need to go.  I can't explain it to you fully.  It is 3 1/2 to 4 hours of Bruce and the band.  No opener.  No pyro.  Sometimes he turns the house lights up and just lets you scream your guts out along with him.  He could bring the crowd up to heights of hysteria, and glory, that would have you dancing in the aisle, high-fiving strangers and jumping with all your might.  He can bring the crowd back down, so that you dance and sway with 20,000 other like minded fools, eyes closed, heart broken.  And when it's you in the middle of this, worshipping at the house of Bruce (sorry for the blasphemy, but it well and truly feels like a religious experience.  At least to me, it did), when you give yourself over to it, it is as freeing an experience as I have ever had.  It may not be this way for everyone (in fact, I am quite sure that it isn't, that it is just me) but for me, I will go back again and again.  As long as I am able.

For Dawn, it was poignantly emotional.  With her dad's passing, Bruce and his songs have become a personal connection to Kit.  I feel it to, but obviously not as deeply.  It was rare for her not to be emotional when certain songs came on. It was a difficult journey for her, but one worth travelling.  We went different reasons, but we always went together.

Since Dawn and I had this amazing exerperience together 3 times over the year, we decided we needed to commemorate it.  And how do we honour something like this?  Why, we do it permanently in ink in our skin.  That's how.  :)  Yeah us.

Dawn and I puzzled and puzzed until our puzzlers were sore.  How best to do this? Early on, we agreed that we wanted to have his signature and lyrics.  It was then on to the task of picking which lyrics.  I originally had suggested a favourite of mine from Thunder Road..

"Have a little faith, 
There's magic in the night."

While we both loved it, since he didn't play Thunder Road at any of our shows, it was hard to memoralize the Summer of Bruce with a song that we never actually heard live. 

The choice, really, had been made for us.  It had to be Wrecking Ball.  We knew the part of the song- the part that had you singing at the top of your lungs, dancing with your eyes closed, believing, believing, believing with every ounce of your heart and soul. 

And hard times come
And hard times go
Yeah, just to come again
Bring on your wrecking ball

What does it mean?  To me, it does nothing more or less than summarize my life.  My hard times come and go, over and over and over.  But guess what?  I got this.  I can do this.  Bring on your fucking wrecking ball.  Do your worst.  :)  Hells yeah.

I picked an amazing font, that pays homage to the Darkness at the Edge of Town album cover.

We did it today.  Like the rest of the summer of Bruce, we did it together.  It was great, and it's beautiful.  I will post a picture as soon as I am able.  It's on my back and I can't take one myself.

Thanks, Dawn.  Any time, any where.  The next Bruce show- I'm there, right there with ya. 

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for new tattoo.

Friday, February 15, 2013

Walking Home

Today was an early release day for the public schools.  That means that Sawyer got out of school at a little after 12.  Sebastian is stuck at school for the full day.  Good thing he doesn't mind. :)

I walked to the bus stop today, to meet her bus.  The timing of that on any given day is a guessing game.  Traffic, construction, weather conditions- they can all contribute to an early or late arrival.  Knock on wood, I have never missed a drop off.  There have been a few close calls in the morning, but she has never missed a pick up either.

Today, I timed it perfectly.  I got there about 5 minutes before she did.  Off the bus she came, hat askew, coat not zipped up all the way, no mitts, and boots on the wrong feet.  I hustle her across the street and we begin the walk home. 

Oh what a walk it is.

She trots along at points, but is easily distracted.  Particularily crunchy icy snow along the edge of the sidewalk draws her attention and the tip of her boot.  It is just asking to mashed and cracked.  Puddles galore need to be walked through, frontwards and backwards.  Occasionally, out of the blue, she will realize that there is more then the world under her feet, and will be distracted by the sky, the leafless trees, the squirrels and birds.  She will often stop to listen to a sound, one that I don't even hear.  It can be something so common place that I have tuned out, like the garbage truck, or something that I genuinely don't hear, like the radio through someone's open window.  She finds treasures everywhere.  Every one of them deserves her scrutiny- a stop, a look, a touch, a smell.  Luckily, I am usually able to stop it before it gets to taste. :)

And the whole time, she talks.  And talks and talks.

I hear about class and her teachers.  I hear about the bus buddies that weren't there today and that Colby has a piano lesson.  I hear about the nicknames she has for people (all nice, so far) and the dance moves she and the ladies came up with in gym.  There are wild tangents and misprounounced words, intermingled with half truths and imaginings. It is a work of wonders to keep up with her conversations.  I do try, but sometimes it's hard.  But when you put the effort in, it is completely worth the effort.  I learn so much about her and how she thinks from these rambling talks.

So, we slowly make our way home, her little icy fingers wrapped up in mine.  My first instinct is to hurry her along- the wind is cold, and my ears are burning.

But then I very conciously pay attention to what is going on here, right in front of me.  And I decide it is worth taking the time.  I don't rush her.  We go at her pace.

It's a long walk home. :)

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "new miracles every day".

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Happy Valentine's Day

So, this is my yearly Heart's day recap. 

It's kind of funny that I always seems to manage to write about it, but it really isn't that big of a holiday around here. Anyway...

I managed to get my hands on our vehicle yesterday, so me and chiclets ran out to get some supplies.  I had volunteered to send a treat into Sebastian's class, and since I was sending one, I can't not send one in for Sawyer. 

The nice thing is, Sawyer's class doesn't have a million different dietary needs, so I was able to just buy pink 2-bite brownies and she was happy as a clam.  Sebastian's class, being full of children with ASD, usually requires something that is GF/CF, and as non-processed as possible.  I found a mix and made them a chocolate GF/CF cake.  I will admit, I didn't make the icing.  I was going to, really and for true.  But $1.50 for icing was too good to pass up.  It meant there was a little dairy in the icing. Oh well, we aren't perfect.

We headed home, had dinner and then started baking. I had my "golden oldies" blasting, a little AC/DC, BOC...the greatest hits of Mullet Rock.  Love it.  The kids are learning to love it to.  Although Sebastian seems to be leaning more towards pop music right now.  It's ok, I forgive him for that. ;)

I baked Sebastian's cake and dyed the icing pink.  We covered it with sprinkles and it turned out beautifully.  Then I turned my attention to making a treat for my own lovlies. 

I planned to make a rainbow cake- 4 layers high, heart shaped, with each layer a different colour.  The baking went super smooth.  I dyed each layer a differnt colour- one purple, one orange, one red and the last blue.  They turned out great.  My problem was that I rushed the last 2 layers- the red and the blue.  I put them on the cake too early, they weren't completely cooled yet.  They split, in 3 pieces each and started sliding off the cake.  I tried my damnedest to stick them back together but to no avail.  In a fit of rage, I pulled them off with my bare hands, in pieces and threw them in the garbage.  I managed to save the orange and purple layers, so I iced those and wished for the best.

I had gotten the kids valentines for their classes on the weekend, so those were already written up.  I packed  backpacks carefully and consciously, making sure I didn't forget a thing.  We laid out their clothes for the morning, both in red and happy with the choices.

I had gotten both kids just a small gift. Each got a $5 movie and a small box of chocolate.  I laid them out on their heart shaped plates, so that they would be there for them in the morning.  I do that often- lay out their small surprises the night before, so that when they find them in the morning, there is a little bit of magic in the gift.  They know it is from me, but there is a little doubt, a little mystery in their sudden appearance.  I love it.  It makes me feel like a good mother.

This morning, Sebastian woke me early, completely thrilled with his Madagascar movie.  Score one for mom.  Sawyer trotted in shortly after with her new Cherry Jam movie, as equally happy.  I got up, let the dog out, fed the fish and the cats.  I pulled out the lunches, put them in the bags and then headed back to bed to lay down for a few minutes.  I have been getting pounding headaches lately, which I attribute to the weather changes, which can be extreme from day to day. Today was another doozy.  This morning's problem was that I fell asleep again. When I jerked awake, it was 20 minutes later and past time for getting up and doing. Geoff gave me my gift at that point, when he got up instead.  I stayed down for another 10 minutes or so, then got up to help.  I know what it is like to try and wrangle the kids alone (I do it every morning!) so as much as I appreciated the thought and the extra time, I knew he would want the help.

I gave Geoff his card as well.  We will be celebrating our Valentine's Day next Wednesday, when the restaurants aren't so crowded and everything is over priced.  I have booked a couple's massage (got a deal through Facebook, of all places) and dinner at a local restaurant that does a Date Night special on Wednesdays.  Geoff is working tonight, so that was pretty much the end of our celebration together. :)

The kids went to school and I stayed home and worked.  It was a long and tedious day, lots of review and analysis and tying up loose ends. My headache really never went anywhere, so I actually laid down for my lunch break and grabbed a quick nap.  I was smart enough to set my alarm, so that I didn't end up sleeping the whole afternoon away.  Ahhhh...the joys of telecommuting. After my 30 minute nap, I went back to work, and started trying to get stuff wrapped up for the day.

The kids and I just had a simple dinner.  We had purple orange heart cake (Saywer's gasp of appreciation when she saw the sliced cake made all of the effort completly worthwhile.)  I cleaned up a bit more, made lunches for tomorrow and did more laundry.  All ina  typical night's work.

I have been trying to get Sebastian back to a limited TV time schedule.  He was watching way, waaaaaay too much.  Today was day 3.  His withdrawl symptoms are getting a bit better, but it ain't easy.  I hate to admit, that I did cave about 30 minutes early tonight.  I just couldn't take it anymore.  I justified it to him and I as a present, and that it wouldn't happen again.  I have to get my ducks in a row for the weekend.  it's a long day to find distractions. 

Sawyer and I played old maid and go fish for almost an hour.  She loves to win.  Her winning is hilarious, complete with victory dances and "go Sawyer go" chants.  But I don't always let her win, so her losing is coming along too.  She can pout, sure, but can be gracious as well.  It's all a learning process.

Baths, stories, prayers then bed.  Sawyer went to bed easy and well.  Some snuggles, some songs.  She likes when I play with her hair.  Sebastian is still humming.  He hasn't had a lot of bad nights lately, and in fact the last month or so has been very good, full of sleepy nights, or nights with just one late night foray into the basement for tv.  However, he has had a lot of sugar and dairy and gluten today.  I expected it to be a hard night's sleep for him.

So, now, it's just me and the dog.  The cats have finally finished crazy time and are asleep in some warm spot somewhere.  I am watching 300, and blogging.  Both Geoff and I have used Facebook to post some lovely things about each other and our families (by linking in songs from YouTube), so the mushiness of the day can fianally end. :)

Happy Valentine's Day to you and yours.  I hope there was some love, in some form in your day.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "nice and quiet".

Tuesday, February 12, 2013


I just recently (on Feb 6, to be exact) passed my one year anniversary for my weight loss journey.  Over the past year, I had lost up to 75 pounds.

 Unfortunately some of those pounds have found me again.  I don't want to say how many, but trust me, it's way more than I ever wanted to come back.  5 lbs up and down, I would have understood.  Trust me, this is more than that.

So, now, I know what I should be doing.  I have the blue print and I know that it works.  I have the tools, the exercises and the books.  What I am lacking is the motivation.

I am busy feeling sorry for myself.  I am busy thinking about where I want to be, not how I plan to get there.  I think of the good things that would happen if I lost another 10, 20, 30 or more pounds.  I just don't want to do the work.

I feel crappy, both physically and mentally.  The carbs I ingest give me headaches and make me lethargic.  The sugar too.  The rush I get at the time that I eat, though, seems to overpower much of that.

I have some hurdles to cross and other issues as well.  All of those reasons behind and driving the emotional eating.  I need to have some conversations, recruit some help and buckle down and get'r done.

So, why am I posting it here?  Not sure.  One, to talk about it.  It's hard to talk about.  I feel like a complainer and a whiner. So I don't talk.  But here, I'm not talking.  I'm typing.  And that's allowed.
Two, to hold myself accountable.  I need to make changes.  I am unhappy with the path I am on, and I need to make myself happy.  No one else will do that.  No one else SHOULD do it.  It's all on me.  But until I say it (or in the case, type it) out loud, what remains unspoken can remain hidden.  I don't have to act on anything that I haven't made real through expression.

So, I am going to try and put the effort in.  I have been going through the motions, but my heart and soul and passion have not been a part of it.  I need that to happen.  I put these picture in this post to try and show myself how far I have come.  I don't want to go back there.  I don't want to be that person again.

So, now, I need your help.   If you can think of things that I can do, to help myself be motivated, to stay focused, tell me!!!  I need help!  I have been looking at blogs and others that have been successful.  I try to walk in their footsteps.  But anything you might have for me- I will take it.

I will try to keep everyone up to date with my journey.  One step at a time.  Time to take that step.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "new lease on life".


I am feeling homebound.

Do not mistake this for home-WARD bound.  I am not that.  In order for me to be homeward bound, it would have to mean that I would have had to have actually left my house. And I don't do that, not very often, certainly not by myself and not without a very specific task on my agenda.

I work from home a lot.  Don't get me wrong, it's GREAT.  Really.  I am caught up on my laundry, I am able to cook dinner for my kids and I, and I am working on being more organized.  But it also means that I very rarely talk to other people. Unless it has to do with work, or it is a telemarketer calling to ask me for money, it ain't happening.  Geoff works very long hours getting his comic store up and running.  So we cross paths for, at most a couple of hours a day.  On some days, it is no more than a half hour in the morning.  I understand that is necessary, completely and totally.  I support it. But it can be lonely.

I see my dad about 15 minutes every day, when he drops off Sebastian after picking him up from school. 

That is pretty much the extent of my contact with the outside world.

Sure, there are days where I see other humans.  Sometimes I take Sawyer to the bus stop or pick her up after school.  I make small talk with the other "bus stop" parents. Last week, I had a parent teacher interview with the people at Sebastian's school.  That went amazingly well (at least until I completely lost my cool and started sobbing through the meeting.  But that's a blog for another time).  I even went out on Saturday with a friend to play Bingo. It was lovely.

But for the most part, it is me and the kids and the dog and the cats.  Oh, and the fish too.

I try to keep the house nice.  I try to open the windows to get some fresh air.  I decorated for Valentine's day, and am planning a surprise for Sawyer and Sebastian ( a rainbow cake, I think).  Some days, I don't get dressed.  I stay in my pjs until it is time for bed at night.  I don't always brush my hair. 

And yet, with all that, I sometimes don't want to go out.  Tomorrow is Wednesday.  I have to go to work.  My boss comes down on Wednesdays, so I have to meet with him and all of the rest of the team.  I am not exactly dreading it, but looking forward isn't a term I would use either. It's nothing personal to any of them, it is more the act of getting up, getting dressed and getting out that I don't wanna do.

I don't necessarily feel trapped.  I am homebound.  Yes, there are days when I wish we had another car so that I could leave whenever I wanted.  So that I could pick up things I need, when I need them.  Yes, I wish I could have some time to myself, outside of the house (or even in the house would be nice).  I wish I could get things done without little hands, little feet, little paws interferring, interrupting, constantly wanting to help.

But, at the end of the day, I am thankful.  Thankful that I have this time with my nearest and dearest.  I am happy I can be here to send my kids off with a full belly in the morning, be here to greet them when they come home.  I am happy to have snuggle time, movie time, craft time, bath time.   I love that the dog sleeps with me, the cats play with me and that all is right in my world. 

Today, Sawyer told me that she loves that I cook for her.  She told me that she loves the way our house smells when I am in the kitchen.  I am not a cook, I can do the bare minimum, so for her to say that mean a whole awful lot.

Yesterday, Sebastian touched my hair and told me it was very messy.  Then he hugged me and smiled.  

Sigh. I guess I really don't need much more than that.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "never leaving home".

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Feeling Good, Walking Tall

So, I briefly mentioned yesterday that I had slacked off when it came to my exercise and workout routine.  That is a slight understatment.  Basically, the month of December 2012 was a total eating free-for-all.  You name it, I shoved it in my face.  I had been on a slippery slope anyway, but the holidays seemed to make for an even rougher ride, so I ended up gaining weight back.  Not everything I lost- THANK GOD!- but enough that I am a bit angry and disappointed in myself. 

So, beginning in January, I have tried to do better.  I am somewhat lacking in the motivation department, so the attempt has been liberally peppered with trips and falls and backwards slides (not to mention pizza and cupcakes and sodas, oh my!)

I started exercising again, doing the Insanity workouts.  They are intense and yes, a little bit insane.  I can't do them all the way full out the way they do on the tapes, but I do my best and modify where I have to.  I am happy with myself every time I finish.

Because Niagara Falls is basically a simmering petrie dish of illness and has been for the last 2 months (seriously, you can't go anywhere without someone coughing or sneezing on you.  It's pretty gross) my family succumbed to the bugs about 3 weeks ago.  I held out as long as I could, but eventually my immune system abandoned the good fight and I got sick too.  When that happened, functioning and moving became a thing of necessity and all extraneous efforts were put out to pasture.  Good bye Insanity.  At least temporaily. 

So, right now, I am trying to reset, to purge the toxins and carbs and sugars and drop some weight fast.  I am working on my short term and long term goals and trying to keep my eye on the proverbial prize.  It's not easy.  Which I find shocking, really, if I am being honest.  I know this shit works.  I am 60 lbs lighter because it works.  So if I know that it works, why don't I do it?  Do I really like the taste of grease and chocolate and cheese that much???  Apparently I do.  Disappointing.

I am totally full of tangents tonight.  Must be a side effect of not blogging for a while. 


Since I have decided to try and rededicate and be commited to improving and getting smaller, my compliments are coming back.  And that makes me happy.  I live for external validations.  Not one of my better qualities, but there it is. 

When I was dragging ass through the second half of last year I was feeling pretty down about myself.  Clothes that used to be big were starting to get snug again.  Jeans that I could be comfortable lounging in were being replaced with yoga pants.  I was losing muscle tone and my skin was not as nice and glow-y.  I wasn't feeling very good about me and what I was doing. 

When I was in the midst of my weightloss and rocking shit out, I was getting compliments left right and centre.  Honestly, sometimes I got embarrassed.  It was crazy.  But when I started not feeling good about myself, that gravy trained dried up.  No compliments.  Nothing.  Nada. 

But in the last couple of weeks, since I have tried to improve and be positive, the compliments are coming back.  Not a lot, but enough to help carry me through the tougher times.  Today at work, I was walking back to my desk, after getting a tea.  A man that I walk by at least 3 times a day (on the days that I am in the office, which is about once or twice a week) stood up to watch me walk.  When I rounded the corner of desks, he actually called out to me.
"Hey! Anita!"

I turned.

"Looking good!"  A tone of admiration, tinged with a bit of surprise.

Sure, I was basically sexually harrassed at work.  :)  But I will take it!!!  I was a little bit blushy and tittery.  It's ridiculous, I know.  But still...it's nice to hear. 

So today, I was feeling good and walking tall.  Sure, I had a cookie (or 2 ) for dessert when I shouldn't have.  Yes, I still have a long (looooooooong) way to go. 

But a boy looked at my butt today and was ok with what he saw.  Can't beat a day like that.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "never enough compliments!"

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Holy Crap, looks who's back!

Ladies and gentlemen, friends and neighbours!  Look who's back!

So, long story short, my laptop is a big hunk of junk and would give me error messages everytime I tried to put a new post on my page.  So, I really  haven't been able to post in months and months.

Yesterday, I installed a new thing-a-ma-jig (I am not tech saavy) and low and behold, I am able to post again!

So...let's see...what have I been up to?

- Working.  Working.  Working.  I am doing overtime like a motherf*cker.  Geoff is still working the store, but isn't bringing in money yet, so I am it, baby.  And Sebastian is still going to the private school (and doing AAAAMAZING!) so the overtime is a necessary evil.

- Crafts.  I did a bunch for Christmas as gifts and a bunch more to make money for Sebastian's tuition.  I sold a buttload of ruffle scarves over Christmas, so that helped quite a bit.  Thanks to everyone that bought and paid for a little bit of my son's education.  Smooches.  It is completely appreciated.
- Special Victims Unit.  I am currently addicted to SVU on Netflix.  I am in Season 7.  Some of it is so disturbing, I have actually had some nightmares. I find it is making me paranoid and scared for my kids' safety.  But I also think these are good stories and better than a lot of the stuff out there.  I just take it in small doses.

- Tea.  I am loving tea right now.  I get a large steeped tea from Tim Hortons pretty much every day.

- Insanity. I had slacked off on my exercise routine significantly last year, so beginning in January, I started doing the Insanity workouts.  I got sick about a week ago, so I stopped working out, but I am getting back into it.  It kicks my butt, but I always feel good when I do it. I want to complete the Tough Mudder in September, and do some running, and in order to do that, I have to lose more weight and get in shape.  So, I am working on that. 
- Cooking.  I am working from home alot now, so I have been working on making good, wholesome and delicious meals for me and the kids.  The latest success was the cauliflower pizza.  But shhhhhhh....the kids didn't know it was made of veggies.  I am trying to get Sebastian more strictly back on track with gluten and dairy free, so we are taking some strides in that direction.
- Organizing.  I have been cleaning and trying to organize the house.  Just after Christmas, I reorganized my living room, giving me more room and making it look so much nicer.  I have cleaned behind my fridge and stove, cleaned out the stove, cleaned the kitchen lights, washed all the curtains in the house and refreshed the mattresses.  Every weekend I try to do a little more.  Maybe some day I will actually be organized and living in a beautiful home. Maybe.

- Kitties.  Just before Christmas, we adopted 2 kittens as gifts for the kids.  One is named Wallace and one is named Kirby.  They are cute as hell.  They were itty bitty and so cute.  Now, they are almost 4 months old.  Their legs are getting longer and their round little kitty tummies are slimming down a bit.  They have claws and they are starting to learn not to use them all the time.  I really like soft paws.  Much better than piercing baby kitty claws.  My wounds are starting to heal, finally. They sleep with us, and are sweet and cuddly.  Axle loves them and is so mothering to them.  He worries if he can't see them but they also drive him crazy.  They are 2 welcome rays of sunshine.

That's all that's coming to mind right now.  I will try and get you up to speed over the next couple of weeks and start updating here regularily.  Welcome back everyone.  I missed you.

Rosie N. Grey
The N stands for "new year, new posts".