post

My Life According To Facebook Surveys

April 6, 2011 By

My brain is feeling kind of overloaded today. There’s a lot going on at work. There’s a lot going on at home. We’re starting transition planning for George, who is being discharged from the therapy centre in August. We have to figure out new childcare arrangements for James, who a few months from now will no longer be eligible to attend his current daycare. There’s some big event happening at the end of the month (something to do with a wedding? Something?)

My brain in danger of blowing a fuse. So for today’s post, instead of tying to actually think hard enough to write, I am completing one of those surveys I keep getting tagged in on Facebook.

OK, here goes…

1.What was the last thing you put in your mouth?
Chocolate. Women need chocolate. It’s a scientific fact.

2.Where was your profile picture taken?
My current profile picture is a “World Autism Awareness Day” logo that I lifted off of a Google search results page.

3.Can you play Guitar Hero?
What the frick is Guitar Hero?

4.Name someone who made you laugh today?
James. He told me the following joke this morning:
Why did the chicken cross the playground?
To get to the other slide.

5.How late did you stay up last night and why?
I stayed up until 11:20 p.m. because I just *had* to beat a friend’s score in Bejewelled Blitz.

6.If you could move somewhere else, would you?
Yes. I would move into my bed and go to sleep for long enough to eliminate my ever-growing sleep deficit.

7. Ever been kissed under fireworks?
Now there’s a stupid idea. Fireworks make me way too jumpy – all of those sudden loud bangs.No way would I be able to enjoy a nice leisurely snog.

8. Which of your friends lives closest to you?
I have a friend who lives three doors down from me. Can’t get much closer than that.

9. Do you believe ex’s can be friends?
Yes, as long as no-one’s waving guns or knives around.

10. How do you feel about Dr.Pepper?
I like Dr. Pepper about as much as I like root canals.

11. When was the last time you cried real hard?
Probably a month or so ago. Things were rough.

12. Who took your profile picture?
It wasn’t taken, it was created. I don’t know by whom.

13. Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Gerard’s mom had a picture of Gerard’s dad sitting on her dining room table. I wanted to scan it for inclusion in my wedding slideshow, so I took it off the table and put it in my bag.

14. Was yesterday better than today?
According to my son James it was. He woke up this morning, and two minutes later declared that he was having a bad day.

15. Can you live a day without TV?
Technically I do. I mean, the TV is physically present and switched on, but I hardly ever get control of the remote for long enough to watch anything I actually like.

16. Are you upset about anything?
No. Life is beautiful.

17. Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
With all the stress I’m going through to plan this wedding, they’d bloody well better be!

18. Are you a bad influence?
Me? Of course not!

19. Night out or night in?
I’m old and boring, so I like relaxing nights in. But once in a while my inner rabble-rouser emerges and wants to PARTY!

20. What items could you not go without during the day?
My coffee. My BlackBerry. My sense of self.

21. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital?
I stayed in the hospital when James was there. I don’t know if that counts as “visiting”.

22. What does the last text message in your inbox say?
“Huh????”

23. How do you feel about your life right now?
There’s too much on my plate but I’m happy.

24. Do you hate anyone?
Yes.

25. If we were to look in your facebook inbox, what would we find?
A lot of stuff about the wedding. A lot of stuff about blood donation.

26. Say you were given a drug test right now, would you pass?
Yes. My life is very tame.

27. Has anyone ever called you perfect before?
Sure. I’ve been called a perfect bitch, perfectly stupid, perfectly stubborn…

28. What song is stuck in your head?
The signature tune from Caillou. It makes me want to set my face on fire.

29. Someone knocks on your door at 2:00am, who do you want it to
be?
Someone knocks on my door at 2:00 a.m., they’re getting the what-for from me. They can damned well come back at a reasonable hour!

30. Wanna have grandkids by the time your 50?
No! I don’t want my boys to be knocking up girls when they’re 17 and 15, thank you very much!

31. Name something you have to do tomorrow?
Getting out of bed will be a good start.

32. Do you think too much or too little?
Some days I’m thinking so fast, it feels like I’m trapped in a pinball machine on steroids. Other days, my thoughts are kinda like lazy slobs that refuse to get out of their Barcaloungers.

33. Do you smile a lot?
Yes, I’m a natural optimist. I spend a lot of time grinning like the Village Idiot.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/codemastersnake/5169004822/)

Filed Under: Facebook, life Tagged With: , , , ,
post

Determination Pays Off

April 5, 2011 By

This time, I was determined.

I was determined to drag my ass out of bed when my alarm went off, no matter how tired I felt, and go for a run.

I was determined to go for a real run – i.e. a road run – instead of wimping out because of the dark and the cold and going to the gym for an unsatisfying treadmill run.

I was determined not to make excuses, not to tell myself that I was too tired or too cold, not to let my mind convince me that the kids were going to wake up and create havoc the second I closed the front door behind me.

The first part of my plan, the waking up part, was easy. Through a series of nocturnal wanderings, I had found myself on the sofabed with the kids squished up on either side of me. I had slept uncomfortably, in an uncomfortable position, barely able to move as I was sandwiched between two dead-weight kids. Although I was tired, getting up and moving around was actually a relief.

I got into my running clothes, fumbled around in the dark for my training watch, and downed a bottle water.

My plan almost got derailed at that point when James woke up crying, saying that he had had a bad dream. I got him some milk and managed to convince him that I didn’t, in fact, need the longest sword in the world in order to slay the monster, and he went back to sleep. For a moment I hesitated: should I really go for a run knowing that my child was in distress?

I checked on James again: he was sleeping soundly, with not a sign of distress anywhere.

I looked for gloves, failed. I looked for a hat, failed. I looked for my lightweight running jacket, failed.

Hmmmm… Do I stay or do I go?

Go, I decided, reasoning that I had run plenty of times in colder conditions without all of that stuff. To borrow a phrase from a book I once read: What am I, woman or walrus?

OK, shoes on, music cued, out the door. I felt cold, but I knew that I would warm up quickly. I started the music, pressed “start” on my watch, and began running down the road.

For the first few minutes, all I wanted to do was stop. I felt stiff and had no rhythm, like a machine that hasn’t been oiled since the start of the Industrial Revolution. I kept going because a simple rule that I have: run for just one mile. If you still feel like crap, turn around and run back, and that way you will have at least got in a two-mile run. Chances are, though, that you will feel just fine after one mile and you’ll be able to keep going.

And sure enough, the first mile came and went, and I kept going without even having to make a conscious decision to do so. At some point during the second mile, I suddenly realized that the stiffness had disappeared and that I was actually enjoying myself.

Due to time constraints, I could not get out for a long run this morning. I had to make do with about 4 miles. But still, it was great. After the run I felt alive and invigorated, ready to face the day. And as always when I run despite not initially really feeling like it, I felt a wonderful sense of accomplishment.

I feel that I have overcome a small psychological barrier that I had put up over the course of this winter. I have been telling myself for weeks I cannot run on the road early in the morning because it’s still dark. But this morning I realized that I do not have that excuse anymore. I could see just fine, I felt perfectly safe, and I even exchanged cheerful waves with a couple of other runners.

I was determined to go for my run this morning, no matter what. My determination paid off, and now I feel great!

(Photo credit: Kirsten Doyle)

Filed Under: Determination, running Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
post

My Name Is…

April 4, 2011 By

Yesterday, while I was tackling my mountain of laundry that never seems to get any smaller no matter how many loads go into the washer, George came up to me and said, “My name is Albert.”

My mind did quite a double-take, let me tell ya! I mean, he’s never even uttered the sentence, “My name is George” and here he is, announcing that his name is Albert.

My first thought was, of course, Who the hell is Albert? I don’t know anyone named Albert, and as far as I know, George doesn’t either.

George giggled, I giggled, the moment passed and he ran off and left me to the mercy of my laundry.

This evening the Albert theme was revived when Gerard gave George a hug and said, “Who does Daddy love?”

George got a twinkle in his eye and yelled out, “ALBERT!” at the top of his lungs, and then collapsed in a heap of helpless giggles.

That George made up this little joke of his own volition is hugely significant. It is not the first time we have seen him display his funny, quirky sense of humour – but this is a new theme. It shows imagination and creativity, and the best part of it is this:

It shows an awareness of the concept of “funny” and an intention to make us laugh.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love this kid…?

Filed Under: autism, Humour Tagged With: , , , ,
post

A Letter For Amy

April 3, 2011 By

To my dear friend Amy,

It has been more than two months now since you held your beautiful Captain Snuggles in your arms for the last time. I was one of many people who had been sending out prayers, positive thoughts, positive energy, in the hopes of keeping him alive and with you. I like to think that although the brave Captain still left us, we collectively managed to shift the Universe just enough to give you some extra time with him. Maybe, during those long sleepless nights, you felt a warm aura surrounding you as people sent out virtual hugs for you. The outcome was not what anyone wanted, but maybe – just maybe – we made some kind of difference.

I was so desperate to help you back then, to do something that could be of some practical use to you. But with us living on opposite sides of the border, this was not possible. So I donated blood. It was a momentous occasion. I felt humbled by the fact that it had taken a baby’s tragic situation to spur me on to action, and at the same time, I felt good that it had spurred me on to action. David was still with us on that day when I made my first donation, and I had entertained fantasies of meeting him someday and saying thank you to him for making me a better person.

My heart shattered when I learned of his passing. I could not begin to imagine what this was like for you, what it would be like for you going forward. I confess that I did not know what words to say to you to comfort you, so I opted for honesty. I told you that I didn’t know what to say, but that I was thinking of you, and that I was there for you whenever and however you needed.

Please know that this has not changed. More than two months have passed since Captain Snuggles left us, but for you there must be times when it feels like the blink of an eye. Grief is such a personal process. Everyone goes through it in their own way, at their own pace. No-one can truly understand another person’s grief. I still cannot imagine what you are going through and how it feels, but I am still there for you. You will be in my heart and mind as you go through this first year of birthdays and anniversaries.

This is a big week for us. This is the week of the Captain Snuggles Blood Drive. This week, many people are going to donate blood (some already have) in memory of your beautiful boy. Every unit of blood has the potential to help up to three people. It has the potential to give up to three families that precious commodity of hope. Through the inspiration of Captain Snuggles, this week is all about giving life.

I know that the blood drive is not going to bring the Captain back, and it’s probably not going to make your grieving process any easier. But he will live on in the hearts and minds of all who donate, and all who want to donate but are medically unable to. There could well be people whose lives will be saved by this blood drive – people who, although they will never know it, will be alive because of this baby who has touched so many hearts.

I send you lots of love and hugs, and vibes of strength and peace.

Your friend Kirsten

Filed Under: Baby loss, Bereavement, Blood donation Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
post

2011 Running Season Is Off And Running

April 2, 2011 By

From left: Dave, Penny, me, Kim

It’s official! My 2011 racing season is underway! I kicked it off today with Harry’s Spring Run-Off – an 8km run in the hills of High Park. It’s a gorgeous run, really. You’d be hard-pressed to beat it for scenicness (yes, that is a word – doesn’t matter that I just made it up thirty seconds ago), but oh dear Lord, it’s hard. Especially if you’ve just emerged from a winter lean of runs, and it’s been mere days since you recovered from a bad cold.

What made this race different to most others that I have taken part in is that I ran with some fellow members of my running club, Kim and Penny, along with Penny’s boyfriend David, who is not technically a member of the club but is part of the furniture enough for us to regard him as such.

We all started together, but we separated fairly early in the race. Although I really enjoyed the fact that my running friends were there with me, I felt a need to run the actual race by myself. Running with someone else, I would have felt obligated to match their pace. Having just recovered from a cold, and in view of the fact that I need to do some work to regain form and speed, I wanted to run my own race, following a pacing strategy that would make sense to me.

I ran fairly easy for the first three kilometres, aided by a long downhill stretch. The downhill was followed fairly quickly by an uphill, which was not long as the downhill had been, but the gradient was steeper. After getting to the top of the hill, I was utterly spent – and I still had 5km to go.

Cripes, how was I going to do this?

Sheer grit and determination, same way I’ve completed many other races I’ve struggled in. I took it fairly easy for the next kilometre, and then I reached the magical halfway mark, which is a psychological wonder in any race. From this point forward, every step I took meant that the distance remaining was that much shorter than the distance elapsed. For the next 3km, the hills were rolling (up and down) but manageable.

Then…

1km to go…

The first half of the last kilometre started well enough, but then, with a mere 500 metres left, there was another hill to tackle. A nasty, NASTY one. You know the long downhill stretch I mentioned at the beginning of the race? It was the same hill. Only instead of going down, I had to go up. After having run for 7.5km. It was not pretty.

I made it up the hill (Determination? Stupidity? Act of God?), and as I reached the top I was about to stop and take a breather when I saw the finish line around the corner, maybe fifty metres away. Those fifty metres felt like about fifty miles, and when I crossed the finish line, I was never more grateful to be able to stop running.

I received my medal with gratitude, went to the food station and inhaled a banana, and went to a predetermined meeting spot to meet up with the others.

We finished the race with varying times, and happily made our way out of the park with our medals hanging around our necks – our badges of honour that proved to the world that we had earned the right to have aching legs and look like crap.

Was this race my best one? Not by a long shot. With a time of almost 57 minutes, my average pace was slower than it had been in over a year.

But I FINISHED, damnit! It was a hard race and I finished it!

And that, my friends, is good enough for me.

 

Filed Under: running Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
post

There Will Be Hills

April 1, 2011 By

My running has been very much on again/off again throughout this winter, and it’s been causing me some degree of stress. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to run, and I have still laced up the running shoes when I’ve been able to. It’s that life has just gotten in the way lately. We have had an interesting run of illnesses in my family over the last several weeks – hopefully the cold that I have had over the last week will represent the last of the winter ailments.

Add to that the fact that it’s been winter, and the weather has been – well, crappy. Toronto had a very cold winter, resulting in thick sheets of solid ice on the sidewalks that I have wanted to avoid. There’s no point in going running when there’s a good chance of breaking a leg. So much of the running I have done has been on the treadmill. Not ideal, but it’s better than nothing. The thing is that I can only stomach the treadmill for so long. So I have done very few distance runs lately.

Brecause of this cold, I have not done any runs at all for about a week and a half. Usually I would, since the cold has been only in my head and hasn’t affected my breathing or anything below the neck. But I have erred on the side of caution because I have a race coming up tomorrow. I would rather rest and increase my chances of being well enough to participate.

And the strategy seems to have worked. Apart from a few residual sniffles, my cold is gone, and I will be able to run the race tomorrow. I’m not expecting it to be a stellar performance. It’s 8km, which I always find to be an awkward distance. It’s just too long for me to just go hell-for-leather from start to finish, but it’s too short to justify the pacing strategies that I use for longer distances. In addition, there will be hills. Lots of hills.

But still, this is a significant race. It marks the start of my 2011 racing season, and it will kick off my training for the Toronto Women’s half-marathon at the end of May. The Toronto Women’s half-marathon is a stepping stone to my main event of the year, the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront half-marathon in October – my annual Run for Autism.

And that, as we all know, is the reason I run. It is my way of doing something for the autism community.

What better day to kick it all off than tomorrow: World Autism Awareness Day.

The karma of that brings a glow to my heart.

There will be hills. Every single one of them will be worth it.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bazylek/5096924747)

Filed Under: autism, running, Running for Autism Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,
post

There Will Be Hills

April 1, 2011 By

My running has been very much on again/off again throughout this winter, and it’s been causing me some degree of stress. It’s not that I haven’t wanted to run, and I have still laced up the running shoes when I’ve been able to. It’s that life has just gotten in the way lately. We have had an interesting run of illnesses in my family over the last several weeks – hopefully the cold that I have had over the last week will represent the last of the winter ailments.

Add to that the fact that it’s been winter, and the weather has been – well, crappy. Toronto had a very cold winter, resulting in thick sheets of solid ice on the sidewalks that I have wanted to avoid. There’s no point in going running when there’s a good chance of breaking a leg. So much of the running I have done has been on the treadmill. Not ideal, but it’s better than nothing. The thing is that I can only stomach the treadmill for so long. So I have done very few distance runs lately.

Brecause of this cold, I have not done any runs at all for about a week and a half. Usually I would, since the cold has been only in my head and hasn’t affected my breathing or anything below the neck. But I have erred on the side of caution because I have a race coming up tomorrow. I would rather rest and increase my chances of being well enough to participate.

And the strategy seems to have worked. Apart from a few residual sniffles, my cold is gone, and I will be able to run the race tomorrow. I’m not expecting it to be a stellar performance. It’s 8km, which I always find to be an awkward distance. It’s just too long for me to just go hell-for-leather from start to finish, but it’s too short to justify the pacing strategies that I use for longer distances. In addition, there will be hills. Lots of hills.

But still, this is a significant race. It marks the start of my 2011 racing season, and it will kick off my training for the Toronto Women’s half-marathon at the end of May. The Toronto Women’s half-marathon is a stepping stone to my main event of the year, the Scotiabank Toronto Waterfront half-marathon in October – my annual Run for Autism.

And that, as we all know, is the reason I run. It is my way of doing something for the autism community.

What better day to kick it all off than tomorrow: World Autism Awareness Day.

The karma of that brings a glow to my heart.

There will be hills. Every single one of them will be worth it.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/bazylek/5096924747)

Filed Under: autism, running, Running for Autism Tagged With: , , , , , , , , ,
post

Weekly Photo Challenge: Ocean

March 31, 2011 By

I thought I’d start participating in the weekly photo challenges. Some of the weekly themes are somewhat obscure, but this one – Oceans – is a nice one. Here are this week’s offerings.

Not really an ocean, but gives a hint of the vastness

Cape Town, South Africa.

Long Island - seeing the ocean for the first time

Couldn't resist this one - eyes the colour of the ocean

Filed Under: Photography, Uncategorized Tagged With: , ,
post

Ask me how I feel today…

March 30, 2011 By

Go on, I dare you! Ask me how I feel!

Well, since you ask… I am streaming with a cold, my head is congested, I am sneezing non-stop, and because of my upcoming wedding, I am stressed to the hilt.

And yet…

I feel GREAT!!!

So I have a cold. But it’s only a cold. I don’t have cancer, or multiple sclerosis, or HIV.

So I’m too sick to run right now, and will quite possibly have to miss my race this weekend. But I have two legs that work, and I am physically fit, and I will run again when this cold is gone. I have it way easier than my amazing friend Fran, who has become a runner despite the fact that she lives with cystic fibrosis.

And OK, it’s still a little chilly for my liking, and we’re still getting the odd snowfall in late March. But I live in Canada, not Iraq or Afghanistan or Libya, and all we get falling out of the sky is snow and rain, not bullets.

When I go outside, I have to wear a coat. When people in Japan go out, they have to wear masks to avoid inhaling dust from earthquake and tsumani debris, and they have to worry about radiaion poisoning.

I am stressed from wedding planning. I know people who are stressed from divorce, and other people, like my Mom, who grieve for their soulmates who are no longer here.

While we’re on the subject, every day I grieve for the wonderful Dad who raised me. I have a friend who grew up without a true Dad, but with a child rapist who happened to be her father by biology only.

I spend two hours a day commuting, and there are days when it becomes overwhelming. But I have a job to commute to. I can afford to feed my family and buy birthday presents for my children.

It is true, I do have a child with autism, and every day brings its own unique challenges. But I have my kids, and every time I hug them I think of my other amazing friend Amy, who sat at her baby’s bedside for five months before cradling him in her arms as he died.

So how do I feel?

I’d say my life is pretty darned good, and I am truly grateful for what I have.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hurricanemaine/3429008592/)

Filed Under: life Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
post

Ask me how I feel today…

March 30, 2011 By

Go on, I dare you! Ask me how I feel!

Well, since you ask… I am streaming with a cold, my head is congested, I am sneezing non-stop, and because of my upcoming wedding, I am stressed to the hilt.

And yet…

I feel GREAT!!!

So I have a cold. But it’s only a cold. I don’t have cancer, or multiple sclerosis, or HIV.

So I’m too sick to run right now, and will quite possibly have to miss my race this weekend. But I have two legs that work, and I am physically fit, and I will run again when this cold is gone. I have it way easier than my amazing friend Fran, who has become a runner despite the fact that she lives with cystic fibrosis.

And OK, it’s still a little chilly for my liking, and we’re still getting the odd snowfall in late March. But I live in Canada, not Iraq or Afghanistan or Libya, and all we get falling out of the sky is snow and rain, not bullets.

When I go outside, I have to wear a coat. When people in Japan go out, they have to wear masks to avoid inhaling dust from earthquake and tsumani debris, and they have to worry about radiaion poisoning.

I am stressed from wedding planning. I know people who are stressed from divorce, and other people, like my Mom, who grieve for their soulmates who are no longer here.

While we’re on the subject, every day I grieve for the wonderful Dad who raised me. I have a friend who grew up without a true Dad, but with a child rapist who happened to be her father by biology only.

I spend two hours a day commuting, and there are days when it becomes overwhelming. But I have a job to commute to. I can afford to feed my family and buy birthday presents for my children.

It is true, I do have a child with autism, and every day brings its own unique challenges. But I have my kids, and every time I hug them I think of my other amazing friend Amy, who sat at her baby’s bedside for five months before cradling him in her arms as he died.

So how do I feel?

I’d say my life is pretty darned good, and I am truly grateful for what I have.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hurricanemaine/3429008592/)

Filed Under: life Tagged With: , , , , , , , ,
« Previous Page
Next Page »