Will Visits a Naturopath

So Will, my sweet baby boy has some issues.  Asthma, food allergies and eczema. The trifecta as it were.  These three conditions often go hand in hand.  He has also be congested for the last two years straight.  He's on meds for his asthma and he has an Epi Pen for peanut emergencies, but his eczema is always present and his nose is always plugged.  I believe that these problems can be solved, but the doctors he's been seeing seem to brush them off with a shrug of the shoulders.  They seem to think as long as he doesn't have an anaphylactic  reaction to something he's fine.  I disagree.  I don't think having scabby skin and not being able to breath out your nose supports a great quality of life.

So I have made Will an appointment with a Naturopathic Doctor.  I am very excited.  I'm a big believer in naturopathic medicine and the body's ability to heal itself.  I truly believe food is the best medicine, (no, not a tub of Ben and Jerry's to fix your depression, but real whole food). I am looking very forward to picking this guys brain.   But first, the awful part.  The Patient Intake Questionnaire.  The doctor e-mailed me his seven page intake questionnaire, full of questions about Will's general health and lifestyle.  Now I know I'm not in the running for the Mother of the Year Award, but if you ever want to feel like a total failure as mother, try answering some of these questions;

How would you describe your child's temperament and behavior at school?  Ok.  We do pretty good at this this one.  Will's pretty awesome.  Except when he's being surly or lazy or having a temper tantrum or being stubborn.  He's doing great at school, never been in trouble.

What is your child's favorite activity?  Um.  Watching tv?  I mean there are other things, but if we're being honest.

How much television does your child watch per day/week?  Oh Gad!  Do I have to answer this??  Is there like, some magical number where if you're over it they call CAS??  If I'm honest, on most week days, it's about 3 1/2 hours a day.  That's probably low balling it too.  1/2 hour before school, maybe two hours after school depending on the weather and if there are any friends outside to play with and then if Jake declares it one of his many, many "Movie Nights", another two hours on top of that.  We won't even get into the weekend.  Oh God, I am a horrible Mother!  Can this get any worse?

Does you child exercise regularly?  Define "regularly".

Do you know of any toxins or other hazards you child is regularly exposed to?  Aside from the 25 year old carpet in our house and the mold in the bathroom ceiling?  No.

And worst of all, how would you rate your child's diet?  Oh shit.  No, that's how I would describe his diet.  Now, that's not all the time.  We're about 50/50 around here for eating great and eating crap I wouldn't give my dogs.

Let's take a look at this weekends menu.  Breakfast:  Will had pancakes with syrup, bacon, ham and sausage, (he hasn't quite picked up on being a vegetarian).   For lunch, (at his birthday party), he had a big ol' greasy slice of cheese pizza, a bag of chips and an apple juice, and let's not forget a big slice of marble cake.  Dinner was the best though.  Daddy brought home a bucket of KFC.  Fried chicken, popcorn chicken and chicken fingers with fries and gravy.  I can't believe no one had a heart attack.  I did't eat any chicken, but it wasn't because I held myself to any higher standard.  I had a Taco Bell 7 Layer Burrito and Nachos Supreme without the beef type substance.

I have to say, going over what your kids ate in the last 48 hours is a real eye opener.   I am really curious what the Doctor is going to make of all this.  I'll let ya know.  In the mean time, turn off that Barney show and give your kid a carrot stick!

Michy

Great Michy Slim-Down Update

Um. So, 182.5 is higher than 180, isn't it?  Well shit.  It would appear that the great Michy Slim-Down has gone way the Ef off  course.  I'm not sure what it was exactly.  It could have been the Father's Day ice cream cake (of which I ate 3/4), or the multiple all you can eat sushi lunches, or maybe it was the Taco Bell, A&W and Arby's I scarfed back this week.  I don't know.  I guess it will remain a mystery.

Gad, what a tool!  On a positive note, I did bike a lot this week.  I think, however, if I'm being realistic, I would have to bike from here to Toronto to work off just one Taco Bell Burrito Extreme.  It doesn't help that my husband considers KFC a food group.  When I left yesterday to do the grocery shopping he hollered up the stairs to please get some "healthy" snacks.  By this he meant, Veggie Sticks, Rice Cakes and 100 Calorie Packs of treats.
    
 NEWS ALERT!!!  These are not healthy snacks!!  They are garbage!  I did get him healthy snacks though.  They're called fruits and vegetables.  Fancy that!

So.  Today is a new day.  Starting fresh with a clean slate.  This mornings menu included homemade Oatmeal with just a hint of cinnamon, maple syrup and brown sugar and a half a grapefruit.  My kids gobbled it up which is awesome.  I would love to keep sugary cereal out of our house and reduce the amount of milk we use, so oatmeal solves both these problems.

For lunch I'm planning on a toasted tomato sandwich with vegan mayo and maybe some homemade corn and jalapeno chowder.  Yum!  Fat pants be gone!

Michy

Balloon Boy!

So, I try not to ramble on too much about how awesome my kids are, but sometimes I just can't hep myself.  Today was Alex's grade two class talent show.  He was not feeling real good today.  He was complaining of a stomach ache, but he wanted to go do his part of the talent show, so off he went.  Like a proud Mama, I went to watch and when I got to the class, Alex wasn't looking so good.  He stomach was still aching and his teacher said he was real quiet all morning.  She said, "you know when Alex is quiet, something must be wrong".  So true.

But, the show must go on!  They moved Alex to the first spot so he could leave early if he needed to.  He got up, look center stage and this is what he did.   Allow me to preface this by saying no one taught him to do this and he didn't read the instructions in a book.  He reverse engineered it from one that his Dad made for his brother.  Amazing!

And what a little showman too!  About ten minutes after this performance he was barfing his guts out in the teacher's bathroom!  What a trooper!

So there you have it.  Bragging moment over.  You can go back to your day.

Michy

The Great Jam Miracle

Well, if you haven't noticed yet, it is strawberry season!  Yum.  Fresh, super sweet strawberries are yours for the picking at local farms, or you can go the lazy way like me and buy them from a farm stand.  Just so you know, I consider it sacrilege to buy strawberries from the supermarket at this time of year.

So, fresh strawberries means it's jam time!  Now, I'm pretty new to the jam making scene.  I've only made it once before, but I was very gung ho this year.  I have been babying my rhubarb all spring for just this time so I could make strawberry rhubarb jam. Mmmmmmm.

So jam making day came.  I had everything ready and I was planning on a really great day.  Life, on the other hand, had other plans for me.  I don't recall exactly what ticked me off that morning, two many things to do, too many interruptions  . . . I'm sure my husband a kids had something to do with it, but by the time I started making my jam I was in a foul mood.  I was slamming spoons and growling to myself and then I lifted up a mason jar and saw this;

If that isn't a sign, I don't know what is.  A sign that was telling me to slow down and enjoy the process of what I was doing (pardon the pun).  It changed my whole attitude.  I wasn't just making jam, I was making love in a jar!  All that growing and hulling and boiling and sugar was gonna make something special!  Often people are so busy being wrapped up in themselves, they completely ignore the present moment and it passes them by.  This was my chance to tune out everything around me and enjoy the task of making my jam.  And I did.  And it was worth it.

By the time I started cleaning everything up, I was humming to myself.  And that's when I moved a wooden spoon and found this; (I swear, this is for real)!

Wow.   So that is The Great Jam Miracle.  Get out to the farm stand and have on of your own!

Michy

Misophonia Nightmare!!

Misophonia - "People who have misophonia are most commonly annoyed, or even enraged, by such ordinary sounds as other people eating, breathing, sniffing, or coughing; Though a few sufferers are bothered by sounds they make themselves, most are not. . .  The reactions are completely involuntary. Sensitivity to these sounds tends to be exacerbated by anger, stress, hunger, or fatigue." (from Wikipedia)


Ok.  So a little more insight into my everyday craziness.  I, or perhaps I should say "other people", suffer regularly from my misophonia.  I CAN NOT stand the sound of other people eating.  All those disgusting snuffly, smacky, chompy, sucking noises that people make when they are trying to ingest food are more than I can handle.  A gross chewer can seriously inspire me to violence.  I am not alone.  My sister also shares my distaste for sloppy eaters.  Kelly Ripa also admits to having misophonia.  It is in fact very common, so I know I'm not crazy when I wanna punch someone in the face for chewing with their mouth open.  I actually have certain people on a special mental list;  "Eat with only under dire circumstances"!


I absolutely cannot sit at a table with people when they are eating unless I am also eating.  I think my own chewing blocks out most of their noise.  I of course chew perfectly and do not understand why others cannot master this basic function.  Unfortunately my husband and son don't breath well through their noses and so often they suck air in and out of their mouths while chewing.  It makes me want to stab them with my fork.


So, yesterday my hubby and I went to lunch at this great Chinese restaurant near our house and we were seated right across the aisle from this middle aged Chinese couple.  As I was perusing the lunch menu, I started to hear the noises.  Smacking, snuffling, sniffling and slurping so loud they must have heard him in the kitchen. The man chewed so loud I could count the number of chews he made just by listening.  OMG!  Then, he started taking bites of some dish that had either bones or seeds in it and as he chewed he would suck the bones up to the front of his mouth and then spit them out onto his plate!  Ugh!  I thought I was gonna puke.  I told my husband I wouldn't be able to eat sitting beside that.  I had this marvelous mental image of me jumping up, tipping over his chair, jumping on his chest and jamming my chopsticks into his eyes.  

Rage Face

Sweet justice!  And to make matters even more repulsive he full out belched, not once, but twice right out loud!  He didn't help matters that he was kind of fat and slobby.  Oh God, what a nightmare.  


Fortunately our neighbors finished eating (if you can call it that), before our food arrived and I was able to enjoy my lunch.  I know this sounds crazy.  My husband thinks I'm nuts, but I just can't help it!  I literally want to kill disgusting eaters.  I can trace this problem all the way back to my childhood.  My Dad used to have this absolutely awful way of eating, and my Mom's second husband was a big, fat, gluttonous slob, so I have had a really long time for this issue to fester.  One time my Grandfather was eating and blabbing at the same time, and he talked so much that the coleslaw her was chewing fell right out of his mouth and onto his fat, hairy arm!   Blech!!!  God, it's no wonder I'm messed up!


So, that's that.  You can call me crazy all you want, but I am not alone!  My condition, which is really all your fault, has a name and it is real.  Now if you'll just all not chew around me we'll get alone just fine.  Oh, and don't sneeze near me either or I may have to kill you.


Michy

 Expo

So, today I went to the National Capital Fit Day Expo.  I have to say, I was really disappointed.   I wanted to go and be inspired and learn a few things and listen to some great speakers.  I was on the hunt for books, either cookbooks or fitness books or even some biographies about my fitness hero's.  I was really interested to hear Mario Lopez speak.  He was supposed to give a talk about fitting fitness into a busy life.  Plus he's really cute!  Charles Poliquin was also speaking, but attending his talk would cost you extra.

So here's the set-up.  When you get in there are three to four "lanes" of vendors/exhibitors.  There was nothing here that I found particularly exciting.  If you were looking for a gym you were in the right place.  Almost every gym in town was represented.  There was an interesting exhibit from a pole dancing gym.  That seemed to attract a lot of attention, (smirk).  All the health food companies represented seemed to be pushing these things called Energy Tabs.  They're a little tab that you drop in a bit of water and it fizzes into a little shot.  It's supposed to give you energy, but I had two and I had to have a nap when I got home.  It was nice to see a lot of vegetarian items being promoted, but other than supplements, power bars and snack foods, the entire field of nutrition was largely absent.

There were classes you could try if you liked, but I wasn't really interested in that.  The "Kids Zone" was just a couple of really big bouncy castle type things.  I would have thought it would be someone actually teaching kids about physical fitness and leading them through different activities.  Really it was just a place to dump your kids.

I finished looking over all the exhibits (twice), in about 20 minutes.  I took a seat at the main stage to wait for the Mayor to speak, followed by Mario Lopez.  There was only about 50 people waiting with me, which surprised me.  This was gonna be the highlight of the show!  Well, turns out the crowd wasn't big enough for the Mayor, because he never made an appearance.  They introduced Mario and he came out and he spoke for about 10 minutes, basically telling me things I already knew.  Don't eat too much, do an exercise you enjoy and eat balanced meals throughout the day.  Then the pole dancers struck up there music so loud you almost couldn't hear anything else.  Mario decided to take questions from the audience.  Two people had questions, then he decided he would prefer to answer questions from the side of the stage.  He told people to just come up and talk to him in person and he would sign things for them if they wanted and pose for pictures, which was great, unless you were one of the people who had already paid extra for a private meet and greet.  Thankfully, that wasn't me!

And that was it.  It was over.  There was nothing left for me to see.  My twenty dollar entry fee got me a bag full of advertisements and ten minutes of staring at Mario's dimples.  That was it.  I left feeling very deflated and disappointed.  I went home and slept off my "energy tabs".  I need to get out for a proper bike ride tonight.  I think I'll read through all my old Oxygen Magazines and get some real inspiration.  My advice, this event is a definite skip.

Michy

Remember the Days?

Absolute Mortifying Humiliation Strikes Again!

I know everyone puts their foot in their mouth once in a while, but I swear, nobody does it as often or as spectacularly as me.


It was an extra special day at church today.  We had a special guest Pastor speaking.  He was hilarious.  And we had a special musical guest, a gospel group by the name of Krystal.  The group is terrific!  It's leaders are three brothers who grew up in The Democratic Republic of Congo.  As young men they were caught up in a massacre at their university and had to flee the country. At this point one of them was separated from the others and ended up all alone in a different refugee camp in Rwanda.  The two brothers who were together were eventually brought to Canada, and believed their younger brother dead.  Turns out they found him two years later and helped bring him to Canada as well.  They make beautiful music with their band and their story is really inspiring.

Turns out they were performing across Canada to raise money for a mission trip back to the refugee camp they had come from.  They had a book about their story and they were selling their CD's to raise money.  The brothers and the band were going to be at the kiosk at the other end of the church after the service so we could meet them and talk to them and give a donation if we liked.  We were heading that way, because that is where we pick the kids up from their Sunday School class, and Jake liked the band so much that we decided to make a donation.

When I approached the kiosk area a man was already there.  He was very dark, dressed in a nice suit and was just standing there, I assumed waiting to talk to people about the band.  So, I put on my "Little Miss Sunshine" smile and I approached him and put out my hand.

"Hi", I said.

Hello!, he responded shaking my hand.

"I just wanted to tell you how much we enjoyed the performance", I said.  "It was wonderful"!

"It was", he agreed.

"So", I said, "we just wanted to make a donation.  Is there a special spot, or can we leave it with you?" (insert big, huge smile and me standing there holding out money).

"Oh!", he said.  "I'm not with the band.  I'm just picking my kids up from Sunday School".

Oh. Fuck.  What do you say in this situation?  What can you possibly say? "Oh, gee, sorry, all you black people look alike to me"!!!  Because I'm sure that's what he must have thought.  "Oh gee, I just assumed all the black men at church today are Congolese refugees"!!!  Aaahhhhhhhhhh!

I sputtered out an apology and tried to hurry away without looking like an even bigger loser.  Jake tried to save me by asking the man if he knew where the band was set up, (on the other side of the kiosk apparently).  I made my donation, grabbed the boys and ran for the van.  OMG, I will probably see that man every Sunday now.  This is so brutal!

On the upside, Jake said he really enjoyed church that day.  He said if it was like that every Sunday, he come for sure.  I thought he was referring to the guest Pastor and Krystal.  What he actually meant was, that is I was going to humiliate myself each week, he wanted to be there to watch it.  That's my man.

Well, they say no good deed goes unpunished.  And here lies the proof!

Michy

"Real Housewives" vs. "Actual Housewives"

Okokok.  Have you seen these "Real Housewives" shows??  They have, The Real Housewives of New York, Atlanta, Beverly Hills and I forget where all else. There is even a Canadian version, The Real Housewives of Vancouver!  It's basically a bunch of super skinny, super face-lifted, super rich socialites who are married to a bunch of super rich men and live in big mansions all over the US.  They drive Bentleys and shop at Gucci.  They spend most of their time "lunching" with each other, stressing over what to wear to the next big gala and backstabbing each other with vicious gossip.  Did I mention that this is a "reality show".  WTF??

So here goes.  My compare and contrast of the "Real" housewives versus an "Actual" housewife.

 No. 1  The Real Housewives drive around in Bentleys and Cadillacs and other cars to exotic to mention. And they don't actually drive themselves, no, no!  They have drivers to drive them, that way the can make a grand exit from the rear of the vehicle in front of fancy restaurant and designer boutiques.

This Actual Housewife drive a big ass minivan that is filled with trash, sports equipment and smells like spoiled milk.  And yes, I drive it myself.  Even nine months pregnant and barely able to pull the seat up far enough to allow me to reach the peddles, I drove myself!  Imagine that.

No. 2  The Real Housewives have housekeepers.  That's right.  Other people to clean their big, fancy mansions.  WTF?  What kind of housewife are you if you don't even keep your own house?

This Actual Housewife will be up to her elbows in a dirty toilet by this time tomorrow, after vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing and picking up just about everything we own! I will also do the job of the gardener and personal freakin' chef, thank you very much!

No. 3  The Real Housewives stay skinny by working out regularly with personal trainers.  I guess this is because they don't have to spend all that time on menial chores.

This Actual Housewife gets an amazing full body workout from hauling three hundred pounds of laundry up and down two flights of stairs every other day.   I throw in some sprints once in a while, just for fun, like when my children decide they do want their mittens after all and I have to race back to the house to get them just as the school bus is coming down the street.  And lets not forget the amazing arm workout I get from hauling all those groceries to and from the car.  Yeah baby!  Personal trainers be damned!

No. 4  The Real Housewives shop at Chanel and Hermes.

Me, Wal Mart and the Dollarama

No. 5  The Real Housewives spend a good chunk of their time debating over which twelve thousand dollar designer gown they should should wear to the next gala or which four thousand dollar boots they should wear to the country club.  And, "do these nine hundred dollar jeans make my ass look cheap"?

If this Actual Housewife comes out of the shower and finds clean sweatpants and a clean white t-shirt in my closet, I hear angels trumpet from heaven.  They might make my ass look big, but my big ass is comfy dammit!

No. 6  the Real Housewives are the most nastiest, vindictive, jealous, backstabbing bunch of bitches I have ever seen, and I grew up in a small town!  Why do these people keep getting together if they hate each other so much?  Oh yeah.  Paycheck.

This Actual Housewife values her friends and I am usually so excited to get together with actual adults that I would never waste that valuble time by fighting.  I don't hang out with people I don't like, my grown up time is much too precious.

And, finally, No. 7  The Real Housewives are married to a special variety of man that is very rich, provides them with their every desire, but never seems to be around.  Hmmm.  Maybe they're onto something.  No. I don't think so.  None of them seem especially happy.

This Actual Housewife is married to that special breed of man who likes to snuggle up and watch tv or browse around Costco, or lay in bed and read with me.  He is always around.  ALWAYS.  And I like him that way.  He may not be a millionaire, but he's here when I need him and that is what matters most.

So there you have it.  I think they should really re-name their show.  I mean, Come On!  Maybe, The Completely Vapid Trophy Wives of New Jersey, or The Lunching Socialite Wives of Beverly Hills, or even The Nasty, Backstabbing, Bitchy Wives of Atlanta.  Any of these would be more fitting.  I think every Actual Housewife should be insulted by the title of their show.  We actual work for that name dammit!  Show it some respect!

Michy

Can't. Stop. Laughing!

Oh Gad!  There is not a parent out there who hasn't wanted this product at one time or another!

Meet Your Meat

Check out this video.  It makes me wanna cry.  I find, that once people start gaining knowledge about the industry, they're not all that sad about giving up meat.

Unexpected Visitors

I like to think I have a pretty cool rep.  You know, I look pretty good when I go out, my house is nice and tidy, my children are well behaved all the time and I have it together.  Well guess what folks, it's all a lie!!  And this is never more apparent than when people drop by unannounced.  Although I do it to people all the time, just show up at your door with no notice, I live in abject fear of people doing it to me.  Then they might discover the truth, that I am not quite so perfect as I pretend to be!  And this is what happened yesterday, when the Secretary of our School Council "stopped by", to drop off some fundraising material.

Now, my general rule of housekeeping is, always start in the front hall.  It's the first thing everyone sees when they walk in the door.  I can block the view to the kitchen with my body if necessary, and as long as that front hall is tidy and the little table there is clean, everyone just assumes that the rest of the house is the same way.  Ha ha, fooled ya!  Well, of course with two small children who dump all their crap on the floor the minute they walk in the door, and a husband who drops his stinky soccer bag and kicks his shoes all over, and me piling old clothes to go in the garage there, and all the water bottles, keys, sunglasses, asthma inhalers, arts and crafts, bug and rock collections and important school papers that cover the small table every single day, it is no wonder that when Keleena stopped by it looked like a bomb had just gone off in the front hall.  I was so embarrassed.  The kitchen was only marginally better.  I could feel the cracks forming in my carefully constructed veneer of perfection.

As bad as this was, it wasn't even my main concern.  I had just gotten out of the shower about twenty minutes before she arrived, and I had shower head.  Now, when I have spent forty five minutes with a blow dryer and flat iron and fifty dollars worth of product, my hair looks very nice and shiny and pretty.  Twenty minutes after a shower it reverts to its natural state; a frizzy, spastic mess.  It was all I could think about as I stood there talking fundraising.  I kept running my fingers through my hair trying to bring it under control.  I must have done it fifty times, but I thought Keleena was looking at me kind of funny from time to time, so I was extra freaked out.  It was like being locked out of your house in your underwear when all your neighbors are coming home!

But wait, it gets better.  After she left I hurriedly ran upstairs to get my hair under control before someone else dropped by, and that was when I looked in the mirror for the first time since before my shower.  Holy Ef!  Apparently I had quite a bit of eye makeup on that day, because I had mascara running down my face.

Holy Raccoon Batman!! And by "running down my face", I mean it looked like my eyes had puked  black coal dust halfway to my nose!!  Oh my gad!  I spent twenty minutes chatting it up with the School Council Secretary looking like I had just gone three rounds with Tyson.  Geeze and I was worried about my stupid hair!  No wonder she was looking at me funny.  I was mortified!!!!

So, I think it's safe to say, that my carefully constructed disguise of the perfect, with it, hip, together mother and wife has been completely blown to shit.  The secret is out.  I'm just like the rest of you.  So feel free to drop by anytime.  I'll be the chick sitting on the front step in her swear pants and tube socks with my hair in a scrunchie and zit cream on.  I'll make us a tea and we can chat while my kids run around naked in my messy house.

Michy

Surprise!  Celebs You May Not Know Are Vegetarians


A lot of people say to me that they could NEVER be a vegetarian.  Well, sure you can!  Lots of people do it.  Here are just a few I was surprised to learn about.   There is an extra emphasis on the dudes here because guys I talk to always seem the most horrified when I suggest they could stop eating meat.



Alanis Morissette              Albert Einstein (pretty smart guy)  Andre 3000

Anna Paquin               Anthony Kedis                  Billy Joe Armstrong 

 Bryan Adams                      Aristotle                          Buddah
  
Carrie Underwood          Dustin Hoffman                  Ellen DeGeneres

    Forrest Whitaker        Gavin Rossdale


Ghandi                         John Cleese                      Kevin Nealon                  

Mike Tyson (really!)                     Michael Jackson                        Ozzy Osbourne

Pink                                            Robert Redford            Russell Brand

Sir Issac Newton           Steve-O                                Tommy Lee

Travis Barker                      Vanna White            and best for last, Weird Al.

Check out the whole list (it's fascinating) at HappyCow.net and remember, the Happy Cow is the one you aren't chewing on!

Michy