Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
But back to my aches and pains. Lately no matter how healthy I try to eat which isn't that healthy compared to people who take their flax seed and cleanses seriously but better than my usual habit of eating the kids leftover Kraft Dinner and nibbling on the ends of Oreo Sippers. But I still have been feeling like crap - like the title says - bloated, gassy, nothing fits around my waist, tired and cranky. And this isn't just pre or post menstrual, this is all f**king month long. Yes, I know the recession that is supposedly over isn't helping the mood around our house. We run a seasonal business and right now we are headed into the off part of it and it looks like it is going to be a long one. My Other Half isn't sleeping much and working too much and the kids, well, they are kids. We can't expect them to understand why we aren't booking tickets to spend Thanksgiving with their cousins or even contemplating heading south for Spring Break.
But, again, back to my bloating. So I was flipping through a mag, one that I always thought was for older women but lately seems to be aimed right at me. Yes, that makes me their target - middle aged with school age kids, no money for designer shoes and needs recipes that involve using up leftovers ***** sigh*****
Anyways I came across an ad that described my "symptoms" to a T.
- My stomach is going to explode
- My friend thought I was pregnant (Well, maybe she did. She just had enough sense not to say it out loud)
- Always craving sweets
- Vaginal itching (not in a good way)
It seems I am suffering from a yeast overgrowth - YUCK - called Candida Albicans. The irony is that I had just told my sister that I thought her baby might have thrush and we were running around trying to find Acidophilus for her to take while breastfeeding. So it seems both PJ and I have an over abundance of yeast in our systems.
So now the fun begins. Really no one should ever go on line looking for answers to medical questions. Everything you find points to one of two things. Either you are going to die and you have to spend a fortune trying to prevent that outcome or you aren't going to die but you still have to spend a fortune trying to fix what ails you.
So if anyone knows anything about the other kind of yeast infection (I can't believe I am posting this for all to see but tough times require tough posts) and have any suggestions, recommendations and/or words of wisdom which don't require giving up coffee or wine, I'm all ears. For now I am off to the health food store to check out the selection of probiotics. (I can't believe that just came out of my keyboard)
Monday, September 21, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Thursday, September 17, 2009
About Grade 9
High School Graduation
The Three Amigos
Like fine wine we have aged well
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
- Why has summer decided to realign itself in August and September? Not that I am complaining but couldn't we have started say at the end of June and wrapped up a couple of months later, maybe? Just a thought.
- Sons Numbers One and Two both have the left eye tooth coming in on top of the baby one which is not showing any wiggle. Wonder if I can negotiate a twoof-for-one deal with the dentist?
- What does one wear to one's 25th all girl's high school reunion? Should one care?
- Why aren't there proper TV season premieres in the fall anymore? I have no idea when any of the old shows are starting and what the new ones are.
- Could they not make iPods with a finder option? I know there is a lost Nano somewhere in our house but hell if we can find it. At least with a phone you can call it.
- Why does hockey start in September? The last place I want to be during this gorgeous Indian summer is in a freezing cold arena. We will have more than enough cold soon.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Saturday, September 5, 2009
This summer has been an odd one for our family with a lot less time at the cottage. The boys were at camp in July and my Other Half and I were busy at work so we rented out the place to help cover our costs. We are lucky to have a family who takes it for three weeks every July and loves and understands it's 60 year old quirks and eccentricities. And where we live on the shores of Georgian Bay is cottage country to many people who travel up from the city to go to the beach or hike or bike. It's a tough life at home but there is something about being in the place you grew up.
The cottage is the one constant in my life and I hope it will be in my children's too. It is where I learned to swim and drive a boat (oh, the freedom of a tin boat with a 9.9hp motor on the back), it is where I smoked my first cigarette which my friend and I pilfered from my grandfather's ever present open pack. It is thanks to those Rothman's Extra Long + Extra Strong that I never smoked again. It is where I brought my first serious boyfriend and where my Mum told us to stay out of the sleeping cabins, "If there is anything you want to do you can do it in a canoe." I will definately use that line on my boys when the girlfriends start appearing. And it is where I brought my someday-to-be husband to pass the test of fishing with my Dad, playing cards with my grandmother and falling in love with the place that means so much to me.
The summers of a young mother spending nine weeks straight on the lake are gone, filled up with soccer tournaments and work. The long days of toddlers and babies splashing in a tiny wading pool on the dock and then graduating to jumping off in flourescent orange life jackets are over. Those long , hot afternoons of reading while children napped and then putting them to bed before the sun set so the adults could talk over many glasses of wine have been replaced by non stop lifeguarding as the boys paddle and swim across the lake to friends' cottages and serious fishing trips to catch the monster bass that has illuded four generations on this lake. We are ready to go to bed before the kids and can barely stay up to watch a meteor shower from the dock these days.
But the feeling is the same as I cross the lake for the first time each year. It is of peace descending like a gentle mist enveloping me no matter how frazzled I feel after packing the car, driving three hours, unpacking the car and then loading the boat. It is the memories that come from the water, the trees and the air here that have made me who I am and are helping to shape the men my boys will become. A shared conciousness with their great great grandparents that has been passed down through five generations. A sense of place, of where they come from and who they are.
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