Police

I have to admit that I am afraid. I am afraid of a lawless world. I myself am not brave enough to go into law enforcement. And with all the recent media surrounding law enforcement, I honestly can't understand why anyone is. What I can tell you is that when I was a teenager I had complete respect for the police. I would not have talked back or responded negatively. I am afraid when I hear about kids attacking a police officer. A few years ago a group of teenagers held an officer's head under water when he tried to break up a party at the lake. No, I'm not a fan of tasers and yes, I do understand the health risks of using tasers. No, I'm not okay with shooting an innocent kid holding a toy gun. But, yes I have no idea what I would have done in this situation. And I'm not brave enough to find out...which is why I'm a pharmacist and not in law enforcement.
What I do know is that two innocent officers gave their lives this week only because they chose a career to protect people. Things have become so scary out there that these officers are risking their lives every day. And I have no idea how I would respond if I thought my life was in danger. They need to make a decision in a split second. Their lives depend on it. Maybe it's not always the right decision but it's the best they could do in that moment.

Ask yourself why this is happening. Perhaps it is because the last time you were caught speeding you expressed anger of the ticket instead of appreciation that they are keeping you safe. And perhaps your children were in the car. What if they don't understand the benefits of the police and only see your disgust over the speed trap or spot check. We need to teach our children to respect law enforcement and to be thankful for all that they do. I will say thank you next time I get a speeding ticket. At least I will try.

World's Best Mom

I am the world's best mom. Well, I was. For about five minutes today. I was also one of the world's worst moms. And then back to world's best mom again. Today I spent the morning playing with my kids. I am off for the two weeks that my kids have off at Christmas (for the first time ever) and I was very happy to be with them all morning. I was still the world's best mom when I took them to see Santa even though the mall was crazy. It went downhill very fast from there. The world's worst mom took two kids to the grocery store on December 23rd. We were three of hundreds of people who oddly also thought that this was a great day to shop. The crowds...and my son's need to constantly drive over little old ladies with the cart were very trying on my patience. I was grumpy for the rest of the afternoon. I may have told the kids that Santa saw them and that they better be good until Christmas because I'm thinking they might be close to getting on the naughty list. Then world's best mom came back and played until bedtime. 

Moms are incredibly hard on themselves. My daughter is extremely picky. By the end of the meal I either feel guilty because I forced my child to gag through eating that meat. Or I feel guilty because I let her get away with not eating meat and now she's not going to be healthy. 

Motherhood began for me by adopting the most amazing baby girl. In the hospital her birth mom was better at swaddling her than I was...and so it began. That self doubt that all mothers feel. I thought it would go away when we left the hospital. Or when we got settled at home. But oddly now I think that it's just what motherhood does. 

I had postpartum depression when my son was born. There are about two months of his life that I have very little recollection of. He doesn't remember this at all. But I still beat myself up over it all the time. And even now, when I know that both my children would pick me over any other mom in a heart beat, I look at other new moms and I wonder why I couldn't have been like them. 

I have an incredibly crazy job (which I love). Often other moms will tell me that they don't know how I do it. Some are impressed with my ability to manage all this. But others are just judging. I once read a post on Facebook about moms who bring their cell phones to their kids' activities. And about how terrible they are. I think this whole judgment thing needs to go. Don't you think I'm hard enough on myself? And besides I'm actually able to make it to all of my kids' events cell phone in tow while you are off sitting in an office somewhere in your 9-5 job. That is unless I'm traveling. Then I miss everything. But I only travel once a month...right?!? My husband says it's more. 

And so it continues. Best mom bakes with kids. Worst mom has no imagination and is terrible at playing barbies. Best mom travels with her kids. Worst mom takes them out of school for a week and needs to check her priorities. 

How about we all make a New Year's resolution to stopping judging? If we can say that a kid is loved and well taken care of, maybe it doesn't matter that they came to school with jam on their face...again. Maybe it's okay we forgot to do our homework this one time. Or to not comb her hair just this once...again. 

My New Year's resolution is going to be to forgive myself. For the postpartum depression. For forgetting the mitts yesterday. For yelling in the car. And instead concentrate on the cuddles we shared this morning. And the movie we are going to watch together tonight. 

Maybe...just maybe, if we can all do this, moms everywhere will celebrate their successes. Because a Toy Story band aid and mom's magic kisses is all they really need. 

Whose Body Is This?

For those who know me, you know I am very busy. Don't get me wrong. I am not complaining. I love it that way. I love my family and all their activities. I love my job and all it entails. And I recently started a masters degree because I had a few extra minutes to fill. I just started a new diet and have been going to the gym more often because I am aging and realize that to continue all that I do I need to be healthy. 

But I had no idea how much everything I do depends on my body. Four weeks ago while on the treadmill doing what I had been doing for weeks I felt too weak to continue. I am not a lover of exercise so while on the treadmill my body often tells me it has had enough. But this was different. I knew if I continued I was going to hurt myself. I proceeded to try weights but couldn't lift anything. So I headed home. As the week progressed I had fevers and chills and sweats and was exhausted. But in typical Lindsay style I continued to work, have Lily's birthday party, walk through a corn maze, etc...

And then the rash. I woke up to a few spots. As the day went on the spots covered my whole body and became painful to the touch. I couldn't hug my kids or my husband. I couldn't sleep comfortably or eat. My spleen, liver, gall bladder, and pancreas were affected and angry. I would fall asleep for hours and no one could wake me up.  The doctors tested me for a bunch of viruses. While we knew it was a virus because of how it was acting we couldn't pinpoint what virus. The pain from the rash began to subside only to be replaced by arthritis pain and swelling in ankles, knees, hands, and wrists. And the exhaustion made everything impossible. 

I woke up today knowing that I am going to be okay. My kids need my attention as they are feeling neglected. My husband needs my help as he has been doing everything at our house. My work has suffered. I feel like I missed four weeks of my life. I want to jump back in and get things done but I know that if I don't take it easy, I will just be back asleep. 

But I have learned so much from this. Cherish everyday. Respect your body. Thank those who help you. Know that you don't know what is going on with someone else. Don't judge. Offer help. Don't stare (if you can help it). Enjoy your health. Love life. 

Post Partum Depression

As I am laying on a bed in my hotel room while on vacation with the world's best family I am crying inside for a woman that I don't know and her two beautiful children. There was a time in my life when I truly believed that moments like this would never happen. That I would never be happy again.  I didn't want to get up in the morning and believed that I had ruined my perfect family by adding a son that I just could not handle. With the help of my husband, my mom, and some really wonderful friends I got through the fog into the sunshine and realized that I am the luckiest mom on the planet. But I often wonder where I would have been without all those people who knew that something wasn't quite right. I do not think for a second that I could have harmed my children but really what mother does think so?  I did not have the psychosis part of post partum depression but in comparison to the many people I have met since that diagnosis my depression was diagnosed very early. I had the support of family and friends until the meds kicked in and I became myself again. So I try not to think about what could have happened but moments like this make me fearful. Obviously we are missing something in the process of post partum depression. Yes we get those pamphlets that tell you all about it but we need to do more. Every caregiver, family member, and friend should be on the look out for moms who are hurting. And we need to stop the stigma so that moms can ask for the help that they need. Let's stop this heartbreaking illness and protect all the moms and their children. My thoughts are with the family of Lisa Gibson. She was a pharmacist with a toddler daughter and a newborn son. She was a woman who sounds a lot like me. I'm so sorry that this has happened to you and your family. 

With hope, the odds don't matter

Life is filled with statistics.  And Scott and I talk about statistics all the time.  He works with cancer patients on a regular basis, I have a health care background, and we spent a lot of time trying to make life decisions based on statistics provided by fertility specialist.  And what we have come up with is that statistics don't really matter if you are on the other side.  If they give you a 99% success rate and you are the 1% who does not succeed, what did that statistic really mean to you?

When I started writing this blog, people would always comment that I shouldn't share such personal information so publicly.  So, for a while, I tried to write my blog but change names or places to create anonymity.  You never know who is going to read it...you know.  But I can't write it if it doesn't come from my heart.  And it can't come from my heart if I am pretending to be someone else.

Today I was contacted by a complete stranger who read my blog.  It happens more than you would think.  But this time I am happy to say that I have written from my heart and that something in my blog stood out enough for this person to contact me.  And she shared her personal experience with me.  And that experience hit home.  It made me cry.  And it filled me with hope. 

I hope you feel the same.  Thank you Heather!!!  

Please check out this link:

With hope, the odds don't matter

Hugs on Mother's Day

On my fifth "real" Mother's Day I am being spoiled by my amazing family. I am awaiting my breakfast in bed made by chefs Scoff and Lily while enjoying some Little Einsteins and cuddling with Jack. I no longer require KFC on Mother's Day. I guess I have finally moved forward from my desperate need for that chicken when watching those commercials throughout my many painful years as an infertile and childless woman. I think Scott was surprised when I didn't ask for our annual KFC celebration and instead requested his masterpiece French onion soup. 

Mother's Day is truly a well deserved holiday. Mothers are amazing creatures. They have magic kisses and eyes in the back of their heads. They have the ability to find something in the closet after everyone else has already looked. This day is truly deserved. Happy Mother's Day to all the truly amazing mothers in my life. 

You may have noticed that I started this blog saying that this was my fifth "real" Mother's Day. My first Mother's Day was two days after my first embryo transfer. On that day I spent a lot of time with my hand on my belly begging the powers that be to let that baby grow so that Mother's Day would count. Unfortunately it was not to be. The sting of that memory and many other heart breaking Mother's days helps me to remember all the amazing women who have not yet had the opportunity to sprout those eyes on the back of their heads. I am positive that they too have magic kisses but have not had the opportunity to test them out yet. 

Through my choice to share these personal and painful experiences I have been able to surround myself with women who have had similar experiences. I know moms who have lost their newborns. Moms who are celebrating their very first Mother's Day at this moment. Moms who used donor eggs. And donor sperm. Moms who found out through experience that you don't have to give birth to a baby to love them. Moms who are pregnant with their first today. Moms who have lost babies. A mom who finally completed her fertility journey to find herself fighting a cancer diagnosis. And one mom who had an embryo transfer yesterday and is the exact reason I felt the need to write this blog. I am so fortunate to have my family and I think about that every single day. But I work hard to remember the journey in hopes that it wasn't for nothing. And in hopes that my experiences can help those experiencing unimaginable pain on this day. 

Happy Mother's Day to all current mothers. And future mothers. Hugs to everyone feeling the sting of childlessness today. May your journey be close to the end. And may you find yourself joy and peace. 

A life well lived

How many times have you seen the quote, "Live life to the fullest"?  I know we all try to follow it, but sometimes actual life gets in the way.  I do know one man who truly lived life to the fullest.  A man who filled a spot in my heart that became empty with the loss of my own father and grandfathers.  For everyone, living life to the fullest means something different.  But to Papa it meant loving, learning, and embracing.  I think I learned more from this man in our visits than I did in my whole university career.  His stories were like life lessons that were put into my very soul without having to learn them on my own.  Whether it was the story of how he met his soul mate and how it changed his life.  Or what to tell the contractor that was working on our basement. Or his view point on a war in which the white men were scalped by the native people...and how we really have to examine events like that because even though scalping is cruel and dramatic, it meant so much more to the people who were doing it.  And maybe those being scalped shouldn't have been there even though it shaped our current society.  He taught me to examine both sides of history and to actually feel what it would have been like to be on either side.  And when we had our many talks about my new job and how scary it was to once again be jumping into an entirely new role, he had tons of pieces of advice on how to address each part right down to my favorite, "Wear a low cut dress to that meeting.  A beauty like you will really get their attention."  Or his love of the Western Development Museum.  A place I had been a hundred times before.  It became a completely different adventure learning about it from the perspective of someone who had seen many of those things with his own very eyes.  And he didn't just tell those stories.  He spoke with such passion that I often feel like I lived his stories as well.  When we named our son Jack, Papa was so excited.  When Scott told him the news on the phone, I could hear him from across the hospital room.  I am so glad that we were able to give him that moment.  And every time he was around the kids, he would tell everyone in sight that Jack was named after  him.  He would show off both of our kids to anyone who would listen. Papa loved.  He loved life.  He loved family.  He loved a good story.  Granny made his eyes sparkle in a way that every woman wants to be adored.  He lost that sparkle on the day that she died.  It became a bit of my own personal vendetta to bring that sparkle back even if it was just for moments in time. I saw that sparkle while he watched the owl at the zoo.  I teased him that I could take him to a real sod house and I saw that sparkle when he saw that house at the museum.  But seeing our kids brought that sparkle to his eyes each and every time.  I am so happy that our kids got to know this wonderful man.  No matter what kind of day he had or how he was feeling, he would always want a giant bear hug from our kids. He touched their hearts like he touched mine.  I am so happy that I had the opportunity to know Papa.  And I can't wait until my own Jack is older so I can share with him all the reasons why we chose his name.
Letting go of someone so wonderful is a challenge.  But it gives me a sense of peace to know it was a life well lived.

Little person in a big person body

I'm on a diet. I have been on a diet pretty much at least once every year since I graduated from high school. I have tried every diet. When someone asks about a diet the first thing they ask is, "Did you keep the weight off?". Of course I didn't. No one ever does. If you have ever seen those shows on TLC where someone is lifted through a hole made in their ceiling, with the help of a crane the individual is taken to the hospital. That's me. No seriously, I can totally understand how that could happen. If I didn't diet at least once per year I would require the crane lift.
Oddly those of us who have dieted all think we are failures at dieting. What I just realized is that if going on a diet every once in a while keeps me within a range that I am happy with, does that not mean that I am actually a success?
So...stop beating yourself up and pat yourself on the back. Us dieters have to put in extra work to not need the crane lift. Be proud that you are strong enough to recognize when you need to start watching those calories again. And quit saying...damn I gained it back again. As far as I can tell, everyone gains it back.
Be proud that you know your body enough to know when it's time to become smaller. And stop thinking you have failed!!!! No matter how much I weigh I am a little person in a big person's body. Because I can guarantee that I could always be bigger.

You are absolutely right. Life is not fair

While enjoying my last few days in paradise I have been thinking about the saying, "wish you were here". We have all said it. Sometimes we mean it but other times it's the opportunity to give someone the elbow and let them know that you are somewhere incredible...and they are not. We have all at one point or another thought to ourselves that life is not fair. It is not fair that I was born with the fairest skin on the planet and Lily has skin to die for. It is not fair that I am currently regretting at least the last hour of my fun at the beach and that when I look in the mirror I resemble a tomato, a stop sign, and a can of coke. Lily on the other hand has tanned remarkably. Not a single burn but the most amazing tan lines on that little bum. It is not fair that people with that same beautiful brown skin are victims of racism and jokes. That it is assumed they aren't as smart or successful or kind. Life really isn't fair. Take a moment and think about the last time you thought that life isn't fair. Is there someone less fortunate than you who would take you up on that unfairness. I'm sad to be leaving my vacation in a few days. It's not fair that there are people lucky enough to live here all the time. They probably think its not fair that I get to lay around on the beach all day (definitely shorter tomorrow). And then there are the people who have never been here. That's not fair either. There is always someone who would take what we have. Someone less fortunate than me. It is not fair that no matter how much I try to explain how time changes work, my kids get up at the crack of dawn. But I am so very lucky to hear those little feet coming down the hallway. Okay. Let's be honest. As I roll over and look at my watch I feel a little unlucky just for a moment...but I am so lucky to be their mom. And while I am not lucky to have the whitest skin on the planet, Jack was equally unlucky to inherit it from me. I am incredibly lucky that he is not burnt like me. He's more the color of pink lemonade, cotton candy, or bubblicious. And because he is lemonade and I am tomato, we will both actually get some sleep tonight. I am not perfect. Far from it. But I am asking you to take a moment when "life's not fair" crosses your mind and really think how unfair it actually is. And maybe your "unfairness" isn't actually so bad.
Oh....and one last thing. Wish you were here. I really do.

Innocence

A child is pure innocence. So what if I joke that Jack is pure terror. Even he is as innocent as can be. I am amazed and disappointed and saddened and angered when I hear that another child has been hurt by an adult. I do not understand how you could look down at that adorable face and want to do them harm. Children completely depend on us to be their role model. I feel bad when I choose a night out with friends when I should have spent it with my children. Or if I miss family day at school. Or if I can't be there to hold their hand for vaccinations. I am completely filled with guilt when I realize I made a bad parenting choice. How does someone purposely harm a child? I just can't wrap my mind around it. This innocence is worth protecting. If you ever think a child may be in danger it is your responsibility to protect them. We need to all band together to make a difference. Children have this amazing resilience about them. I watched a video of Lily learning to skate. She fell way more than she stood and there was minimal skating going on. But she kept getting up over and over again. She wanted to skate so badly. When is the last time you got back up that many times or tried that hard? Honestly, I can't remember putting in that much effort ever. And she watched me watching that video and when I was done I turned and smiled about to tell her how proud I am of her. And she looked at me sadly and told me she wasn't a good skater. And when I hugged her and told her that I thought she was incredible, she told me that was good because she loves it. Inspite of falling a million times and knowing that she wasn't very good (yet) she loves skating. That was the lesson of the day for me...for sure. No one loves doing things they aren't good at. But maybe we should. I think I'm going to reconsider some activities based on that lesson. I think it's going to open up my world a little. Children are amazing. Don't ever take them for granted. They are sponges who see everything you do. But most of all, they have the most amazing things to teach you. Open up your heart and learn.

Loss of an angel

Sometimes in life someone touches you in an unpredictable way. Sometimes in that moment you know your life will never be the same. I met Oliver and his mom Karen in my pharmacy. Due to confidentiality, I won't get into that, but what I do want you to know is that he was adorable. In an instant I fell in love with that blond haired little guy. I'm suspecting that it was because he looked exactly like my Jack. And throughout the short time that I knew Oliver I became aware of just how unfair life can be. As my Jack was getting bigger and stronger, little Oliver became weaker. Because they were only a month apart I had the perfect perspective as to what that little guy's life should have been. I have never met a stronger woman than his mother Karen. Oliver's parents were never selfish. They made their choices based on Oliver's needs and what was best to keep him comfortable. They didn't choose to do things to make their personal suffering easier. I've spent the days since Oliver's death watching Jack and wishing that Oliver could have had the life that he deserved. I guess I will try to accept that these things happen and will try to stop looking for an answer as to why they happen. I'm sure that is an answer that will never be available.

Oliver, it was an honor to have met you. I hope that you enjoyed some joy in your short life and that you are now free. My life has been touched and I will never forget you.

Obituary 

Oliver's Story

If Your Christmas Isn't Merry

I think I've finally found my Christmas spirit. My presents are all wrapped and my kids are excited. I'm looking forward to seeing my family. The weather looks like its going to cooperate....although that's relative to whether or not you need a white Christmas. This year I am incredibly lucky. I have family that loves me. I have the ability financially to give the gifts I want to. I won't go as far as to say I wouldn't like more money because there's absolutely no one who couldn't spend an extra dollar, but I am incredibly lucky to have the life that I do.
But while I'm thinking of all the joy around me I'm still empathetic to those whose Christmas won't be merry. Christmas is a time for celebrating all the wonderful things in your life. But what if those things aren't merry? One year deep into our infertility struggles I cried during Christmas mass because I was jealous that Mary had a baby and I did not. In hindsight I recognize the silliness of that statement but at that moment all I could do was look around at all the other moms sharing Christmas with their kids and wonder why it wasn't me. Now during Christmas mass I wonder why I didn't notice that those moms were desperately trying to keep their kids quiet and occupied. It looked so much easier when I was watching.
Today I'm thinking about the woman whose husband is currently in palliative care. Or the parents who just lost their beautiful baby girl. Or the mom who just miscarried at four months. I'm not trying to make you less joyous. I just want to take a moment and consider their feelings. Maybe an extra card saying you care or an extra thought or hug or prayer is needed.
Enjoy your holiday season. Drive safe. Eat lots. And consider those around you. Maybe you can make someone else's Christmas just a little bit more Merry.

As much as you can handle...

Whether you are a religious person or not I truly believe that in your lifetime you will not be given more heartache than you can handle. Call me impossibly optimistic but this is how I survive.
I started this blog for two reasons. The first was to share my experiences. During our struggles with infertility and post partum depression I felt so alone. I felt like everyone around me was pregnant and that those little bundles of joy were exactly that...joy...to everyone but me. I realized later that I wasn't alone and that no one ever talked about it. So that's why I share. But the second reason was more selfish. I found it incredibly therapeutic. I'm not sure if it was just writing it all out or if it was feeling that by helping others it made my pain worthwhile. But either way, blogging has made me feel better. If you follow regularly, you may have noticed that I blog much less often. I am busier but it's mostly because I have shared most of what I needed to say and I no longer require the therapy. Until today. Today's post is selfish because I need to put it down to get past it in my mind. Life is incredibly hard and unfair. Today I am bitter and I am hoping this will help.
Today I am thinking back to how I felt during my struggle to become mom. I truly believe that I could not have handled more than I was handed during this time. One more disappointment would have pushed me over the edge. I have watched so many people endure similar struggles and I can feel their pain because it is all too familiar. Today I learned of two people who must be much stronger than I am. They have been dealt an incredibly unfair hand. They are required to endure sorrow unlike any I have experienced. And because I know you are only given what you can handle, I know they will survive. They must be incredibly resilient.
I promise to share their story when the time is right. Right now it is not mine to tell. And at this point their story is far from over. I know their story will have a happy ending. It just seems really far away today. If you are religious say a prayer and if you are not send a thought. Because sometimes you just need that extra push to get through.

These are a few of my favorite things

There have been times in my life when I was too sad to see the good things in life. To make up for it I have been trying to watch carefully and not miss another moment. I have always had seasonal affective disorder. The sky turns white, the days shorten, the snow falls and I become sad. That's not going to happen this year. I am going into this winter happier than I remember being in a long time. And I have a new outlook on winter. I am watching people around me who love winter and I am going to catch a ride on their piece of happiness. And every time it snows I am going to catch a snowflake on my mitten and stare at that tiny perfect little design. I just realized today the beauty of the finger drifts crossing the road in front of me. And how much more beautiful the sunrise is against that pure white background.
There is a song about only being happy when it rains. I'm not sure that I'm only happy when it rains but it definitely helps. I love the feeling of it on my face, the smell, the designs in the sidewalk. I love the rippled reflections in puddles and the sound of heavy rain on the roof. But most of all I like to open the sunroof and let it rain on me.
I secretly adore dandelions. They are beautiful yellow splendor. Who are we to call them a weed? They are the most amazing flower. You can smell them. You can eat them. You can make them into wine. Even I can't kill them. And I don't have to water them either. I have taught both of my kids to consider them as flowers and to blow those fuzzy seeds in every direction.
I love water. The ocean. The river. The lake. I love the sound. I love the coolness on a warm day. I love the smiles on everyone's faces. I wish everyone could swim so they can feel the pure joy of swimming on top of a giant wave. Okay, I like it less when it rips off my bikini top. But basically my bikini days are over anyway. Lately I have learned to stare at the glassy top of the river in awe of that perfect reflection. Today I watched the beginning of ice forming as it flowed by.
I used to hate fall. All it meant to me was the end of summer. I realized this year that it is absolutely gorgeous. Leaves falling on a wedding can make the vows that much more romantic. And the sound of leaves rustling in the wind is so relaxing. And the colors. The amazing colors of fall. It's such an amazing season.
And the feeling of love. I can't decide if it's better to realize you love or to be loved. But either way, love is the best feeling of all. Whether a look or a touch, it is the very best. Nothing beats love.
Oh right....and coffee. But I'll save that for another day.

Airport extravaganza

It is officially 7:47 pm. I know this because I am one finger typing (yes I am terrible at texting typing) on my
iPhone. It is much easier to blog on my
computer but it is unavailable because I am sitting in the Calgary airport waiting to board my 5:00 pm flight to Vancouver. Did I mention it is 7:47 pm? My plane is broken. I am hoping to board a 10:00 pm flight although that flight was originally at 9:30 pm so it's kinda hard to know. Let me take a moment to explain that I am not complaining. There is a silver lining to every cloud. This silver lining is that I am sitting in an airport lazy boy, drinking Starbucks and ALONE. I would love to have some company but I am extremely happy that my kids are not joining me in this delay. The silver lining is that they are in the comfort of their own home with daddy and grandma.
I am super excited to be attending a conference in Vancouver this weekend. I truly believe the conference will be phenomenal. However, I was super excited to ride a plane alone. I was gonna listen to music and read a book. I was NOT going to talk to strangers.
But I met this incredible man. He is an addictions specialist who also specializes in ADHD. He works with the correctional services of Canada and is doing a presentation at a pain conference in Vancouver this weekend. He used to do medical missionary work in the Congo. He has 3 biological kids, 4 adopted kids, and 1 foster kid. As if I could listen to headphones when this incredibly interesting man was sitting there.
On to Calgary. Grab a snack and sit beside the worlds biggest complainer. The room is too cold, the sun in his eyes, hotels are too expensive, and he deserves better because he's important. Needless to say, I never asked what he did for a living. Probably because I DIDN'T CARE!!! But I was super excited to be sitting next to him when the announced our five hour delay. Grumpy man's devastated expression....priceless.
On to the food voucher line. Spoke with a nice gentleman who was incredibly sad to be missing his son's soccer practice. I cheered him up by sharing the fact that we are lucky not to have to stand in a food voucher line on a regular basis.
Oh yes, I'm a comedian. Now I've got a crowd. Really nice lady next to me. We start talking about how I'm okay with the delay because I'm gonna relax with a book. Maybe the first time since the kids are born? We start talking about our families. We receive our $10 voucher (seriously...they even work here. Don't they know there isn't anything for $10). Christine asks me to join her for supper. We have a wonderful conversation about my kids, her kids, our careers, our travels, and our wine...which hit the spot!!! Hours pass. Time well spent.
Here's to an unexpected day in the airport and to the wonderful people I met. Who would have thought. All because I chose to make the best of the situation.
I must go watch the planes and drink my Starbucks!!! Bon voyage.

11/09/11

Today is an amazingly emotional day.  And not because of anyone I know personally.  The day began with that feeling of someone staring at you until you open your eyes.  Lily is my personal alarm clock.  And no matter how many times I have been awakened that way the moment I open my eyes and see those beautiful brown eyes looking back my heart races and I say, "What's wrong?"  and everyday she says to me, "Mom, the sun's up."  And like I'm sure every parent reacts, I look at my watch to see if I should say, "Get back to bed" or if I should turn on the television and hope she's quiet for a few more minutes of precious sleep.  Or if it's actually time to get up.  Today was a television morning.  And of course the first thing on was a picture of the twin towers.
I remember that morning.  I know where I was just like everyone knows where they were.  I was in bed.  My phone rang and I didn't answer it.  And then it rang again immediately after so I rolled over and picked it up.  On the other end was my brother.  "Turn on the television."  I say, "Which channel?" and he says, "Doesn't really matter."  My brother and I have an interesting relationship.  We don't talk often and usually not about anything important but we both know that if we needed each other, one of us would race to the other's side in an instant.  My brother never phones in the morning.  My brother is not awake if he's not at work in the morning.  This was weird.  I turned on the television and immediately saw the twin towers.  Only one plane had crashed at this point and I had no idea what was going on.  We sat in silence and watched the second plane hit.   He was upset. I was upset.  In that instant we knew the world had changed.
Here we are on the anniversary of that day and I am still amazed how all those people came together to try to rescue the people in the towers.  Without fear or selfishness, they ran into danger in hopes of doing something good.  Amazing.
And while I am trying to remember all the great things that people did that day while trying not to be overwelmed by the absolute sadness of all that was lost, I realize that two provinces over there was a miracle today.  A three year old boy who was kidnapped four days earlier is returned relatively unharmed.  I am not fooled into believing that life will be the same for that boy, but honestly I did not believe there would be a good outcome to this horrible situation.  Every time I thought about that boy over the last few days I pictured my own children.  And every time I saw his parents I felt their pain.  And every parent will now live in fear just a tiny bit more when they tuck their child in every night.  That sense of peace knowing that your child is safely asleep in their own bed has been stolen.
What an amazingly incredibly happy but sad day.  I got through it all because I spent the day in a corn maze chasing my kids and hoping that Jack would slow down before he got lost.  We ate at the Berry Barn and played in the sand beside the river.  I painted my toe nails the color Lily chose and painted hers every color we own.  And we are making Lily and Jack's favorite food.  Ribs.  And every five minutes Lily says, "I smell ribs. When do we eat?"  And I realize life is worth it.  The good and the bad.

It is all worth it!!

Three year old BC boy found safe

Niceness....to a fault

I'm one of those people who is too nice.  Don't think I am tooting my own horn here.  In my case it's actually a personality flaw.  And I know where it comes from.  My mom.  Just so you know, if you ever are alone on Christmas or Thanksgiving, her house is always open.  Even if she would rather have a quiet family gathering, it will never happen because her instinct is to include anyone and everyone who may be alone on the holidays.  Now I don't know if mine is inherited or a learned behaviour...but either way, if you need someone to bake cookies for your sale, sell tickets, or babysit your kids, I'm there.
If we are close friends and you are reading this and wondering if I am talking about you, I'm not.  I still have the inability to say no to you but I don't mind because it is reciprocated.  I'm talking about the person I never see who wants me to come to their birthday party.  The lady with no friends that I have nothing in common with.  The co-worker selling Amway who has no supporters. Not only will I attend your party but out of fear that you won't get presents, I will bring the biggest one.  And the lady I have nothing in common with will be invited to my home on a regular basis because she appears to be lonely.  And to the guy selling Amway...I would love to continue buying your stuff on a regular basis even though it is super expensive.  Did you know you can order toilet paper from Amway?
You're probably wondering why this is a concern for me.  And that reason is because I only have so much time in a day.  I have two wonderfully busy kids.  A husband who would like some attention from time to time.  And I manage a busy pharmacy full time.   I have very little spare time and I have a hard time trying to juggle all the things I want to do.  Don't get me wrong.  I love being nice.  I actually feel incredibly guilty if I say no.  So much so that it is often better to just do it than it is to deal with feeling bad about saying no way past when the "favour" would be over.   I love to put on the baby shower, the bridal shower, the surprise party, bake the cookies, and the cupcakes, and come in on my day off to open the pharmacy.  I really do.  It feels good to be nice.  It just sucks when I realize that I just spent all that time away from my family and that I missed the park with my kids while I quickly ran into work.
And there you have it...niceness to a fault.  And what will I do about it?  Nothing.  Cause that would be mean.  And I just don't have it in me.  

Unforgivable

Woman accused in baby stabbing diagnosed with postpartum depression

I remember the day that this story hit the news. Who in their right mind could harm an innocent child? I felt angry at this woman for hurting her child. And I was traumatized by the fact that the baby will never get to live a normal life because of a senseless act. It really hit home because this woman lived in the same town as me. She lived on the same street as a friend of mine. And she lived in a really good part of town. How could this happen in police presence? How could it have gotten this far? I used to work at the Regional Psychiatric Centre. I know what it's like in there and I could picture her sitting there and trying to understand what happened. And I wondered what kind of answers she would come up with.
A while later I was sitting with two of my most favorite friends and we began to discuss this story. And one of them said that she had been wondering why I had yet to blog about this situation. And I realized that the reason that she was asking is because she thinks the mother had post-partum depression. And at that instant I began to feel this enormous pressure on my chest. I hid it well because we were out having a good time and I didn't want to ruin it with my thinking. But I suddenly could feel the panic and sadness of my own post-partum depression. Since then I have tried hard not to think about this woman and her child. I didn't want to be able to see it from her perspective. I was fortunate enough to never want to harm my children. Not once did I ever feel the urge to hurt them. But I was fortunate. Post-partum depression is a chemical imbalance. It is not rational or forgiving. There were so many instances when I couldn't make a decision. I was often frozen in indecisiveness. I had days when I wanted to go back to my life without my baby and days when I couldn't get out of bed. But I was fortunate to have an amazing support system that got me though it all. I can't stop to think what would have happened if I hadn't.
When I called this blog unforgivable, it wasn't because I think that what this woman did was unforgivable. It is not my place to judge. But I know that post-partum depression passes and you eventually return to the person you were. Unfortunately the guilt of what you thought or felt at that time follows you, but I guess everything that we experience forms you. When I am talking about unforgivable I am talking about the inability for that mother to forgive herself. When the cloud of despair eventually lifts she will not have the opportunity to return to her life prior to post-partum depression. Instead she will be overcome with another type of despair. The reality of what she did will become clear. That's why I called this blog unforgivable. I know that she will never be able to come to peace with her clouded decisions. She will always in her own mind be unforgivable.

Where are you?

Sorry for the disappearing act but I have been busy.  I am absolutely loving my new job.  I desperately miss the amazing people I have worked with over the last ten years but the change has proved to be the right choice.  I have been thoroughly amazed by what we do.  The reason for my disappearing act is that I have a ton of learning to do.  Not to toot my own horn, but I think I am a fairly good pharmacist.  I have kept up with the changing medical information and I can answer questions and counsel patients with the best of them.  But right now I am constantly and continually reminded that I am in over my head.  I can actually feel the pathways forming in my brain as I learn new information on a constant basis.  There is a way to replenish your vitamin D stores in less than a week.  There are bioidentical hormones that can help with any and every hormonal imbalance without the risk of heart disease or cancer.  There are things you can do for autism.  There is a whole range of treatments for erectile dysfunction (even though they have to stick needles in their penis)  We can pretty much make a treatment for every issue.  I am in complete awe of this part of pharmacy that I hardly knew existed.

But I am also really loving life.  Poor Scott now has to pick up the kids from daycare and make supper every night.  My hours are great because I don't have any more evenings or weekends but I do work till 5:30 everyday.  I have been missing the time with the kids in the evenings, but knowing that I have every weekend free is amazing.  I have had the opportunity to meet up with friends some evenings because I don't feel guilty that I have already worked some.  And when someone asks me if I am free on a weekend in the future, I don't have to worry about what my schedule might look like and I can make plans.

And on a completely different note, I have began to decrease my Celexa.  I am a little nervous that I won't recognize that I am slipping if it happens so please let me know know if you have any concerns with my behavior.  Scott is honestly terrified which I go between understanding and being sad.  I do not think that begin on an antidepressant is wrong or that the stigma should exist.  I just am really feeling good about things right now and I want to try out life without it.

I am sitting in a quiet house missing my kids but loving the silence. Before the job change I was supposed to work this weekend and Scott is at work right now.  We had arranged for the kids to go spend the weekend with their grandparents.  And Grandma and Grandpa were so excited that it seemed mean to take it back.  I think that a quiet weekend alone will make me miss them and maybe I will be a bit better of a mom because of it.   I just have to figure out what I am going to do after this....

wOKe uP oLD

It's been a long time since I have actually enjoyed my birthday.  Don't get me wrong...I've had some great parties and have spent many of them with people that I love.  It's just that when you turn thirteen you become a teenager, sixteen is your drivers license, voting at eighteen, drinking at nineteen, legal in the US at 21....from then on it's kinda down hill.  Twenty five is closer to thirty than twenty...and it seems to move faster from there. 
I woke up the other day and realized I was no longer a teenager.  I'm assuming that most people figure that out in their twenties...I'm not sure how I missed it.  I am one of those annoying people who thinks she understands teens because she just was one...way over a decade ago.  I'm old.
I woke up and realized I have the body of someone who has had a baby...the wrinkles of a past lifeguard...and that I no longer wash my hair or shave my legs near as often as I used to.  I guess it's because it all doesn't matter that much anymore.  Or does it?  Do I really want to be that person that blends in with the wall paper or would I rather command some attention when I walk into a room.  I don't need to be the prettiest girl in the room, I just want to be relevant. I guess my personality often keeps me from getting completely ignored....but is that enough? 
Nope...I want to be sexy.  Not that freaky sexy that some older women try to achieve...you know, married cougar with kids.  Not exactly what I am looking for.  I just don't want to be a frumpy mommy. So I need to find that new me...the sexiest middle-aged (said with a frown) woman that I can be. 
I have no idea where to start...but here's to me! Wish me luck....