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Moms...you are not fucking up

This mother's day feels really emotional. I can feel it swelling inside. And so I sit and write this in my own way of reflecting. I think it's emotional for me, because as I round the corner to my kids' 8th birthday... some of the guilt about "the kind of mother I am" has come to a head and is starting to rupture. Coincidentally (or not) I had surgery last week to deal with a ruptured cysts in my breast - bringing a lot of emotion to the surface. So much of my self-worth and role as a mother wrapped up in my bosom. This "rupture" comes with an immense amount of healing, but... Not without some conflict and turmoil of course. Oh it's confronted me hard. And I it. The first few years of being a mother were such an intense struggle for me. I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Trying to navigate having twins, watch, read, research, pay attention and be present seemed like a never ending battle. I was always second guessing myself. ...

Moms...you are not fucking up.

This mother's day feels really emotional. I can feel it swelling inside. And so I sit and write this in my own way of reflecting. I think it's emotional for me, because as I round the corner to my kids' 8th birthday... some of the guilt about "the kind of mother I am" has come to a head and is starting to rupture. Coincidentally (or not) I had surgery last week to deal with a ruptured cysts in my breast - bringing a lot of emotion to the surface. So much of my self-worth and role as a mother wrapped up in my bosom. This "rupture" comes with an immense amount of healing, but... Not without some conflict and turmoil of course. Oh it's confronted me hard. And I it. The first few years of being a mother were such an intense struggle for me.  I had no idea what the hell I was doing. Trying to navigate having twins, watch, read, research, pay attention and be present seemed like a never ending battle. I was always second guessing mys...

My baby would be 11...

I had a real shit day. So I went to yoga tonight. I went ...I didn't teach . I often forget how important it is to go to a class, and take it in. To be pushed outside what I think I want to do. My body holds on so damn tight. If I am home practicing alone, when I get to the brink of release, I will hop off my mat and my body doesn't get the release it needs. I could feel it but I didn't know what "it" was.  I needed to get into my body and let it tell me some stories. About halfway through the class, I noticed I felt angry at Aly - who is both my friend and one of my favourite teachers. It wasn't a logical angry and it didn't have a concrete thought like "I don't like this class" or what she is teaching. It was more like she was pushing me a bit and I didn't want to be pushed. My body was trying to protect me...cause what needed to come up was big. Deep down I knew it, so I resisted it hard. It was sneaky as hell. It was like, reluct...

Show us your boobs

Warning: this might be the most uncomfortable, most vulnerable post I have written to date. I have sat with it for a while. Please be gentle with your comments, and your judgements even if you keep them to yourself. Take a breath and step into Empathy. There's also a lot of heat and passion in this, and swearing. I hope you can hold space. I'm also not worried about spelling or grammar - so hold space for that too. Namaste. Not too long ago I had some guy from high school, that I had on facebook (key word is "had"), write me to say hello and to tell me he thought I was looking really great these days. I thought "wow!" what a compliment, since I am in fact working hard on my health and I thought it was cool that it showed over facespace. It made me feel really happy, at first. As we chatted a bit and caught up (all of which I was hoping was innocent pleasantries) at the back of my mind I thought to myself "I wonder what he wants ". That made me ...

Change...you're a real jerk

Today has been hard. Change...is hard. Over the past few weeks we have come to the decision to change the kids schools. They have been going to French immersion and it's not "gone well". There are many reasons for this, some of which I take responsibility for and other aspects I do hold some anger and resentment towards - but I'm working on that. It's so hard for me, when I realize that something isn't working. I have a few emotions that surface. I typically get mad and want to flee - fuck this! type of reaction. But then usually, I can talk myself down and start to put some energy and focus into figuring out what is not working and why . (I also feel that at this point in my life, I work at taking responsibility as best I can - this is a work in progress of course.) There is a big part of me that doesn't like to quit , or give up on stuff. There's an old belief there that "quitting is for quitters" - and that that's a BAD thing. ...

Stop Shaming Me: The Holidays, Food and Depression

Oh hi, hello there. With the holidays coming up I thought maybe this would be a good rant  post for those of you with specific dietary requirements, restrictions and just overall needs. I know I have some anxiety coming up - so let's address it right here right now. I know what it's like to be that "guy" who can't eat anything at parties. A couple months ago I finally 100% established that my depression is an inflammatory response . Which means (in a nutshell) that the affects of inflammation in my body cause a change in the chemistry of my brain (and vagus nerve) leading to fatigue, and deep states of depression. I hit a very scary low back in early September where I started having thoughts that almost lead me to check myself into the hospital. Thoughts that felt normal to me (because they've been there so long) and yet, seemed to be much too serious to be something I was comfortable with. I feared for my own safety - from my own self. How messed up...

Why aren't you happy for me?

(First off, let me just say that I am totally guilty of this. I've done it, I am sure I still do it and I'm building an awareness around it.) Being happy for other people's successes - big and small. Better yet - Being happy for my own successes  Yep, that's what's up. I've come to realize as I make small but significant changes in my life and as I get happier, and feel good about myself I want to share this with others. So, I was seriously confused when I would get what felt like a ghost slap in the face. Ghost slap: throws you back but you have no idea where it came from or who did it or WHY. Sometimes, for whatever reason (that people might not even realize), they don't feel happy for you. They don't like this "new" you. They are used to and attached to the old you, the one who complained a lot and blamed most things on external factors. They knew how they fit in with this old you. Now you've gone and done it - you've change...

I'M FUCKING SAD

There. I said it. I'm fucking sad. I know I am not supposed to be sad. I know I am supposed to be over it - or at least that belief is there, and it's a strong one. "Carry On" "Be happy" "Don't show that you are struggling" "Don't put your shit on others" Wow. Grief is so incredibly strange. By  strange  I mean that it can go undetected for a very long time, and in many different ways disguising itself as something else. Fatigued, depression, despair, hopelessness, disinterest, anger, frustration, an inability to communicate or cope, addiction, relationship issues, retreating ...etc etc ETC. I really had no idea. My sister says that grief is an opportunity to deal with deeper stuff. And she's right. But god, it's so damn deep. It's shit on top of shit - the well of shit seems never ending, but I have to keep pulling the rope up and emptying it out - I can't stand here and hold the rope anymore, my arms...

To Dad: through wounds come healing

I've been practicing heaps of self-care these days and so in the spirit of my practice I went to bed last night at 930 pm. This is outlandish for me, by a long shot. Surprisingly, I fell asleep in no time...but it didn't last long. At around 2 am we woke up with Oliver in between us and tried to gently usher him back to his own bed. He went willingly only to turn back around when he realized he had a big mosquito bite that he couldn't tune out. 2 am mosquito bites actually feel like a severed foot - to a 6 year old. Not long after we got him settled, Lilly showed up distraught over a robot eating some people out of their car at the drive in (she's never even been to the drive-in). They were the robots owners no less! Nightmares suck, I know them all too well and I just can't turn my kids away when I hear the sheer panic in their voices. Danny left for the spare room as Lilly crawled in - a sleeping situation we know all too well at this point. (This post isn't ...