Wednesday, 28 August 2013

Pet Shop Rules

While putting the boys to bed, Sashimi suddenly cried out and complained that it felt like something was biting his toe. I knew the cat was outside, so it was not her. My next thought was some sort of spider, which would be so gross. So I jumped off of the top bunk to check out his toe. Nothing.
That was not good enough for Sashimi, so I turned on the light, inspected his toe with really close eyes, rubbed it, poked it. Still nothing. Whatever made him feel like he was being nibbled on was clearly gone.
Keesadilla, always the president of the peanut gallery, quickly ponted out: I hope it's not a slug that can climb up bunk beds.
Me: Keesadilla, it is not a slug.  Slugs can't get into the house.
Keesadilla: Well, yeah, but like that would be so. Gross. And I don't want them biting me.
Me: They don't bite people. They don't even leave gardens.
Sashimi: Keesadilla, it wasn't a slug that bit me. It was probably nothing and just a weird feeling in my toe.
Keesadilla: Yeah, Sashimi, but still.  I do NOT want to be attacked by snails or slugs.
Me: That's not going to happen.
Keesadilla: If I owned a pet shop, the rules would be No slugs climbing up beds, or on the ceiling, or on cat's faces, or ATTACKING PEOPLE.
Me: Good rules. But slugs don't attack people.
Keesadilla: Yeah. Because they have to follow my pet shop rules.
(pause)
Now can you come and change my blanket? It's HOT...



Wednesday, 21 August 2013

Shake it up

This is not a normal type of blog post for me. Normally, people come here to read about the ridiculous things that happen in my house. Honestly, there has been a fair amount of hilarity lately, and that will appear in a future post. But right now, I want to answer to something that has been asked of me lately.

Why did I decide to become a Beachbody coach?

Last year, when I started Insanity, I remember in one workout Shaun T refers to one of the people sweating it out on screen and says: "He's a Beachbody Coach. He leads by example." And then the sweaty man mumbles out "Bhgasdhsjsbsdf..lead...biugefu. ample..." as he's plyometricking all over the place.

I looked up what a Beachbody coach was. I also then read that Canadians were not eligible. Well, poo to that idea. And I went on about my day, working out (almost) every day and talking to whomever asked about it.

This spring, a girl that grew up in the same town village hamlet group of farms as I did created a "like" page on facebook for her fitness business.

Let me digress for a second and say that there has GOT to be a better way to say that than a "like page".  That is so gramatically stupid that it makes my brain cry.

Anyway. The Like Page. It said she was a Beachbody coach.  I was like Shut The Front Door. Turns out, Beachbody decided they needed Canadians to add to their coolness quotient. She asked me if I was interested, and by then, I was about as committal as most of my ex-boyfriends. OH SNAP! Then she asked me if I wanted to join a challenge group (code for accountability-support-group-to-get-your-butt-moving-and-help-you-put-your-panties-and-shoes-on-and-push-play-every-day) for the new workout program, Focus T25.  T25 is by the same guy that did Insanity.  And since I pretty much love him, I was in.

Then I discovered that being in a challenge also means not only putting your panties and shoes on and pushing play, it means drinking some sort of drink called Shakeology. Again, I had seen ads for it on the workout DVDs I had, but had never in my life considered drinking something like that. That was something only fitness junkies and meditative gurus did. But, for the sake of trying something new, I read the ingredients, made sure there was no funky stuff like eye of newt or parasitic worms. Then I fired up the blender.

My first impression was: well, that's gonna take getting used to. I had never had ANY type of meal replacement or protein powder in my life. But it filled me up and seemed to give me a boost of energy. The next day, I had it again. Then again on day three. Because I was accountable to a group and we all swore to push play and drink. But by day five, I noticed something. I remember texting my best friend and saying I was pretty sure there had to be crack in it or something because I actually really liked it, I looked forward to drinking it every morning, it gave me energy, it made my intestines and bowels super happy, as well as my tummy, and my latenight munchies were significantly diminished.

Could this really be from this drink? Maybe it was from the workouts.  Working out does give me increased energy, and maybe I had been eating really well and lots of fiber or something. But I continued drinking it and working out daily and loved the way I was feeling.

My husband, ever the scientist, decided to set up a blind experiment to make sure I wasn't praying to a golden idol of a dog or a toad. Using a flavour of Shakeology that I had never seen or tasted before (chocolate) he bought a protein powder similar in protein and fat ratios (and carbs, but that was not as easy to match) and he made my shakes for me and asked me to record how I felt. We did this for two weeks. Initially, he switched shakes at random, but then decided to give each shake a five-day stretch.
Guess what: it's not all in my head.

When on the regular protein powder, I did feel full, and I had some energy, but my GI system was back to its normal craptastic self. The days I drank Shakeology, my tummy troubles were gone. I also didn't spend every evening ravaging my pantry looking for munchupons. And frankly, I don't really want to go back to feeling crummy and like a racoon on the prowl through dumpsters for a hit of sugar or salt.

Since buying this product every month can be a bit pricey for cheapo me, so I decided to sign up as a beachbody coach and get the coach discount. Awesomesauce.

Then, I decided, hey, I've been promoting and talking up Beachbody workouts for over a year, and I have had people ask me about them, and I love talking about it and sharing ideas, so why not try and set up my own groups and help others with their own strength, health and fitness goals? I am not a personal trainer. I am a sharer, a  helper, a facilitator, and a motivator. I don't just talk the talk, I walk the walk.  Or squat the squat.  That sounds awful.You get the idea, I hope.  I am not squating in bushes or anything. Although, having gone berry picking in the bush with my Baba, a true pioneer woman, I do know how to squat without peeing on myself. Or my shoes. Well, most times. And yes, I will teach iBean how to squat, too.

I am a girl that just likes to lead by example.
*That goes for peeing in the bush, too. When you gotta go, you gotta go.

Thursday, 15 August 2013

The first duet

iBean loves to sing, just like her maman. Since she was in the NICU, I have always sung to her. I sang to all my babies, but each of them had their own special songs that I sang only for them. They are used to me singing around the house and rarely do they tell me to be quiet (unlike my sisters and I growing up with our mom...I am so sorry about that, Mommy!) Sometimes I sing kid songs, sometimes pop, sometimes just plain nonsense songs. Sometimes rap. Wait, that is nonsense...
iBean's lullaby is one that we adapted from an Elmo book, and has been her favourite bedtime song for the past couple of months. So much so that she sings it with me.  At first it was a few words, then a phrase, and now she sings the whole song with me, in a barely audible whisper.  Because it's bedtime, you know. Shhh...

I finally was sneaky enough to sneak my iPhone into her room while tucking her in for the night.  The lights were off, and I had set up my phone ahead of time to be ready to record. So when we started singing, I was ready. I recorded our little duet.
And this is a clip that I will treasure forever.


You know you are loved best.

Wednesday, 7 August 2013

Conversations with my resident 5-year-old theologian

 Keesadilla: Why does Riley always want to play games where his name is Killer? Or he wants to kill people or growl?
Me: Well, God gave Riley a really big imagination and he makes up really big stories and games to play.
K: That's not really big. Big imagination is like when you're a zombie or something.
M: Zombies are not the same kinds of games as killer games?
K: NO! And why does God always make us fight?
M: He doesn't make you fight. Who are you fighting?
K: Anyone. Why are we always fighting?
M: Well, when you're little, fighting is a way to help you learn how to use your words and not your actions. God helps you learn how to be patient and kind when you fight.
K: What? God doesn't know what He's doing. That doesn't make any sense.
M: Not everyone has the same ideas of what games to play or what to do all the time. So God helps you talk and solve your problems together.
K: That doesn't happen in Peace River.  There is no magic in Peace River.
M: Magic?
K Yeah. Well, except for God's magic. But a kid flying? Not magic in Peace River.  Or like a kid bouncing between trees? Not magic like that in Peace River.  Only like if God magic'd him down the tree.  That kind of magic.
Sashimi (from the bottom bunk): There is magic! Like my card trick!
K: That's NOT magic, Sashimi.  Only God does magic. Like if he magic'd your cards.
M:What? (I have no idea what we are talking about anymore).

Pause for about 4 seconds.

K: Like how long do I have until I never have to go to school for the rest of my life?
M: Um...when you're an adult.
K: No.  Like I mean when am I going to wake up and not have to go to school anymore? Like EVER?
M: Well, what do you want to be when you grow up?
K: Either a trains person or buildings.
S: You can't BE a building, Keesadilla.
K: NO, like I'm gonna drive a train.  But I just can't decide what kind.  I think CN because I never saw inside a CN train before.
M: Well, once you're done learning how to drive a CN train, you can be done school.
K: Well, I think I already know how.  I'm seriously!
M: You still have to go to school to learn new words and numbers.
K: WORDS? I don't want to learn words.  All the words Mme Suzanne uses are en fran├žais and I don't know them!
M: Well, Mme Suzanne is not your teacher this year.  It's Mme Danielle and Mme Sheri-Lynn.
K (thinks for a bit): Well, like how many days is Mme Sheri-Lynn gonna be there? Like is she gonna tell me all the words?
M: I don't know.  But you will learn lots of things this year and you'll have fun.
K: I don't know about that...seriously...

Pause to contain my inner giggles.

K: Mommy, my blanket is hot.
M: Ok. I'll give you a new blanket.
Two minutes later...
K: This blanket is hot TOO! Why don't you get me a blanket that is never ever hot and always stays cold all night for every night?
M: If I ever see one of those blankets, I will definitely buy one.

Five minutes later...
K: My blanket is so hot! What is wrong with these things?
M: I think it's your body that's hot.
K: NO it's the BLANKETS! They're no good. I want cold blankets.
M: There are no more blankets. Your body warmed them all up. Do you want me to flip your pillow?
K: Yeah...flip it. But it's hot on both sides! My body's not hot, it's my legs.  And they're hot because of the blankets.
M: Well, sleep without blankets.
K: What? That's crazy. Then I'll be cold.

M: Good night, Keesadilla.

End scene.

Thursday, 1 August 2013

One down, nine to go!

As of tomorrow, I will have completed (and passed!) my first graduate course. Although in my mind it feels like it was only last year that I was a poor university student living in a basement that tended to flood or drinking liters of coffee to make it through the day.
Wait.  I did drink a liter of coffee yesterday. But university was the start of that nasty habit...
And now, I am one course down on my road to master of the universe. Or Master of Edward Cullen.

Although walking onto the university campus last Monday to start the intensive two week course gave me the deluded sense that I really hadn't aged and that it has not been that long since I left, some things have changed:

1. I have a job. So I have money. Which means I can afford to buy myself things like lunch and coffee and be awesome like that.
2. I have kids and a mortgage. So I actually have negative money. Which means I pack my lunch and fill my bag with instant coffee and steal creamer, sugar and utensils from the cafeteria. Maybe saltines, too.
3. I used to be able to read on the bus, so I would review my notes and whatnot. Now? If I want to read, I have to visit some sort of drug dealer to jack me up on Gravol.  So I spend my time trying not to yarf. Good thing I have my iPHONE! Listening to music while riding the bus is so much easier compared to when I had one of these:
Yeah...And remember how you used to pay like $250 to get the GOOD ones that offered like 10 second skip protection? But on a bus ride, that meant you got to listen to music in 10 second clips. Yesssss.
4. As an undergrad, I was used to being on the top of the brainscale in my courses.  Now, in a graduate level course, the perpetually hungover/drunk people are pretty much weeded out. Which means everyone is smart. And motivated. And it's harder to get those coveted 4.0 marks when everyone around you is smart and motivated and not jacked up on gravol and humming Taylor Swift songs because that's all that was loaded on their iPhone that day.  Not that I have ever listened to Taylor Swift or kept dancing like I was 22. What?
5. Wireless internet on campus. Can I get a HELLS YEAH! Mainly because I can watch as many buzz feed GIFs and youtube videos of Taylor Swift and how she gets her lips so bright red as I want. I mean...homework. Research.
6. My grad photo is on the wall.  And I look young. Even I think I look young. Never felt like I looked old until I saw that picture today...

There are the things that never change:

1. The bus smells like East Asian food.  Or curry. Even at 7:30 am.
2.  Coffee is my lifeline to educational success.
3. First thing I have to do when I get to school is find a bathroom.  And I always try to find the cleanest stall farthest away from the door so people won't hear me.
4. What I am really doing in the bathroom is cracking super secret spy codes using my telegraph. That's why I don't want people to hear me.  So stop listening.  Blarp beep DASHHHHHHH boop.
5. The really slow walkers in the hallway that spread out just enough so that you can't go through them or around them, you just have to follow at their painfully slow pace. Or just stop altogether and watch some goats bleet to Taylor Swift.
6. Stress acne. And stress canker sores. And a cold sore. I can't tell you how happy I was when I woke up with a chin implant that I didn't even have to pay for! Awesomesauce. And canker cold sores? They just make playing the recorder more challenging. That's not blood. That's my war wound, yo.

But as of tomorrow, I will be one course closer to my Masters of Edward. And that feels pretty good.

So. With that in mind, dear husband, I would like to thank you for taking two weeks of your holidays to stay home and take care of our spawn while I moved in with my sister and her little Tiger Lily for two weeks to go back to school. And since they were so good for you, I am thinking I'm good to take another course next summer. Gotta get masters grad pics taken before I get liver spots...
Right?
*crickets*