Sudoku...the eternal puzzler for my brain

So for the last several months, I have been addicted to Sudoku. I had never tried it but always saw it in the newspapers and wanted to try it. One time I did, but screwed it up so badly that I just tossed it. But finally, I got one, and ok, it took me a week (working on it at my lunchtime and time breaks) but I did it...then I was hooked. In the last couple weeks, I have been hoarding a few and working on them...they are full of scribbles and numbers everywhere. For someone who is distinctly more of a word geek than a numbers geek, this is a huge accomplishment. My husband will tell you (once he finishes laughing) how bad I am at math. I dread the day that Abby comes to me for math help...she's screwed! Luckily, where I fail, Clayton succeeds. And where he fails (spelling and writing), I kick butt. As long as we can hack it out together, we're perfect. But back to Sudoku, I am obsessed with finishing these little scraps of newsprint. I carry them with me everywhere. I stare at them until my eyes are almost closed. They frustrate me to no end (especially the expert ones) but I refuse to get rid of them. I'm determined to finish them. Finally, yesterday, I finished one and today I finished another one during my lunch. Does that make me feel better? Nope, cause now I'm eager to get back to the other ones and kick their butts too. I'm almost tempted to take pictures and post them...but nah...I gotta finish them though. Oh and I have a book of Sudoku puzzles and not one, but TWO IPad Sudoku apps...yep, I'm hooked...now, where did I put my pencil, pen and puzzle???

I may be getting better at this working out

So before my drunken debauchery Saturday night, I went to the gym and did a Stretch and Tone class. I was nervous after that last "Body Blast" class left me in agony for the rest of the week...I know I know...wah wah wah...but when you have to go up a long flight of stairs at least two to three times a day, chase after and pick up a heavy 25+ toddler, being in pain WHILE doing this is not what I want. I mean, I want to tone and stop the jiggles (not to be confused with my giggles!), but I still need to be a mom and keep my job! Anyway, I decided to hit up this Saturday morning class. Surprisingly, I like working out Saturday mornings (as long as I don't have to get up too early). It's a great way to start the day without being too much to handle and then the rest of the day is open. Again, I reached out to my posse of interested friends to see who would nibble on the bait to keep me company and with a little convincing and an hour of free babysitting by my hubby, Kelly agreed to come and work out. Luckily, her little one, Becker, is pretty much like Abby in that he's really easy to hang out with and take care of. And he and Abby adore each other! So I didn't have to twist Clayton's TOO badly. We got to the class and immediately gathered our supplies. Wow, there was a lot. The half ball (flat on bottom, round on top...kind of like a boob!), the long stretchy band thingy, the mat, the squishy ring...I only knew the mat, so this would be fun. The class was great. We stretched, we toned and the exercises weren't killing me. The half ball thing was weird though...I'm sure it's good but me trying to balance on a round object? Yeah, I weebled, I wobbled and occasionally waved like a madman. Did I fall? I know you're all thinking it. And I will answer that with a resounding...hey look over there, it's Brad Pitt naked riding a motorcycle!! OMG, did you SEE that? Wow...so anyway, the class was fun!
However, I nearly killed myself laughing when, while down on the mat doing leg lifts, I could read the half ball thing and it said "Make sure you have ample room around you in case you fall." Gee, did the person who created this thing meet me first?
After the Body Blast class, I could have fallen asleep standing up. It killed me, backed up, ran me over and then jumped up and down on top of me. This class? It energized me. I felt great. I felt motivated...and no I didn't take a nap...right away...
Both Kelly and I felt good and can't wait to do the class again this Saturday morning. Clayton is good to watch Becker and Abby for an hour, we get to get in a great exercise and feel fabulous after! And the great thing about this class? I was sore after but not god awfully so. But I definitely felt like I was working hard at the class, just not ripping my limbs off my body. I might even do that Body Blast class again...maybe next month...

Had a breakdown last night

After my drunken debauchery post, I was remembering what I did last night and it was a whole other set of emotions. We were watching Extreme Makeover: Home Edition the season finale (which was for Mother's Day) and yes, I know the show can be pretty mushy but I'm a tough cookie (ok, who am I kidding? But I can usually hold it together past a few misty eyed moments). But this episode was about a volleyball coach who took in one of her players and her two sisters because both of their parents died from drug overdoses. They had cameras recording people thanking their moms and this one came on and said that ever since she became a step mom, she knew what it was like to let a child that wasn't born of you into your heart. Then she said "It doesn't matter if they were born yours or not, they will always be your child." I totally caved. Right from the get go, I gave my heart to Bella and loved her and what that woman said was absolutely the truth. She is my child. Whether she was born my child or not, I have been a parent to her. I jumped in with everything I had. Bella may have rejected me but I will NEVER stop loving her and she will always be my child...I never meant to lose it over a simple sentence, but thankfully Clayton came over and held me. It's hard for both of us, but definitely harder when something brings up the emotion so hard. Despite what people say about time healing the broken heart...I feel like time is only making the ache worse...but I will continue to love her no matter how long she is gone...

Ain't going home till I shake my tailfeather...and dance on the bar...

Well, the plan was originally to hit up Dirty Dogs bar in Hamilton and ride the mechanical bull, dance on the bar and get hit on. We pre-drank...mostly cause we're all broke and trying to maximize our party experience (cause we don't do it often...the last time I got out to dance/drink, was March). We trooped to Dirty Dogs and not only was the mechanical bull out of commission (aw man!), but it was dead in there...I mean DEAD! Like when we left, it was the bartenders and the bouncer...yeah, and it was 12 a.m. I think the mechanical bull killed the party mood for sure.
But before we called it quits there, we did get up on the bar and shook our asses. I personally loved that they had a bar above your head firmly in place to hold onto (for dear life, cause I am SUCH a klutz!) and to allow you the freedom to shake your ass without ending up as a front row pancake. And yes, the super klutz wore flats! And jeans! Then we hit the pole...well, not HIT it...but we wrapped ourselves around it and made asses out of ourselves. Yep, kind of glad we were the only crew there...and no one took video...but after trying to liven up the joint, Danee (the birthday girl and the reason we were out partying in the first place) decided we needed to try out Liquid Kitty (and I swear I'm not making that name up...the upstairs bar is called Tailgate Charlie's but the downstairs bar is Liquid Kitty...yeah, I don't know...) but immediately, it was way better. Good live band music (playing everything from Lady Gaga to Black Eyed Peas to well, something else...I was a little intoxicated) and then during breaks, pumping dance music to shake our asses too. I found out that yes, apparently I AM a cougar...but I was assured by a random cute guy that I was a hot cougar...so that felt pretty damn good...until I went inside and my husband was not only dancing but grinding with all my friends...while their boyfriend/hubby were right there...yep, he was just a wee bit intoxicated himself! But it was all good. We drank, danced, drank, danced and had a riot...but I still have a date with that mechanical bull. I'm getting old and if I'm going to get tossed by a bull, it's not going to be after 40...so Dirty Dogs, I WILL be back...plus the bouncer was pretty cute...hmmm...maybe leave the hubby at home...tee hee...I'll be good...maybe...maybe I should leave the camera at home too...hmmm....

Unearthing the junk

Since my therapy session on Monday, I've been feeling happy that I'm finally doing something about my issues. But the one thing that hovers in my thoughts is the situation with Bella. For those of you that don't know, (and sorry if you do...you're getting it again) here's the back story. I met Clayton in 2000. When I met him, I didn't know he had a child but he soon told me that he and his ex had a baby together but that he found out it wasn't his. I said ok and understood why he left her and the baby. In 2001, after we went to NB for the first time together, he told me that he was scared to tell me the truth because he thought I'd leave him and fessed up that the baby WAS his but that because he was so young and the relationship with his ex was so toxic, his parents took him out of the situation and he hadn't seen his daughter since (at the time, she would have been 3). I forgave him and he told me that he had been thinking about her and wanting to be back in her life now that he was older and finished school and had a job but he was unsure of whether he should or not. I told him that I would fully support him and be as little or as much involved as he wanted me to. But that I would only support him if he stayed in her life, no going in and going out. This was due to the fact that even though my dad was there in my life growing up, he was never THERE. He showed up for special occasions and the occasional visit but we never saw him regularly. He was too busy working and I couldn't be with someone who did the same. He said he understood and then began the process with his lawyer to get back in touch with his ex. It took a while to track her down and make the initial conversations but his ex agreed to allow him back in her life and he would start paying her child support. Then the visits started. It began with a short visit at the mall with his ex and Bella (who by now was 4 1/2) and didn't include me (which was completely fine). Then, we were cleared for a visit with both of us. I was ok with waiting until their relationship was further along but he insisted. Since we were still living with our parents at the time, it meant being at my parent's place. I got to meet her for the first time and immediately fell in love with her sweetness and adorable nature. She warmed up to me instantly (plus it helps that I have a way with kids) but it took a while to get the relationship going between her and Clayton. She eventually had sleepovers and finally moved up to visits every other weekend and a Thursday night visit. I became her surrogate mom away from home. I gave her time and space to be with her dad and did everything I could to nurture that relationship and helping Clayton to be a better dad, while also building my own relationship with her. I talked to her mom to make sure I was following along with what she wanted and always was careful to not step on her or Clayton's toes and help them. I bought her bedding, clothes, toys and welcomed her in my life with open arms. I never looked back on my carefree non-child life. If she was sick, I comforted her. We read stories, went shopping, danced, had lemonade stands, singed, watched movies, played dress up, went ice skating, went hiking, went sledding. When we were going to New Brunswick for two weeks, she came with us. Vacation time was no longer what Clayton and I would do but what we would do with Bella. Camping, swimming, day trips, hanging out, etc. There was NOTHING I wouldn't have done for her.
But in the past couple of years, things started changing. First, her mom got pregnant (she had been with the same guy for almost as long as Clayton and I had been together). She was excited about the new sibling but fearful because she was losing her only child and centre of attention status. It was an adjustment but we all pulled together and helped her to prepare for being a big sister and she was great at it. I took pride in the fact that all four of us were raising this little girl together (me, Clayton, her mom and her mom's live-in boyfriend). Then, Clayton and I got married around the same time. She was very happy with me being her "official" step mom and I made sure she was part of the ceremony and let her know that I was marrying Daddy and her because I was officially becoming part of THEIR family. She was a junior bridesmaid, shared a special dance with Clayton, was present at the bridal shower (we made sure we held it on a weekend we had her) and even signed the register (she declined being part of the ceremony though cause she was too nervous to have everyone looking at her). Everything felt good. Then, her mom decided to get married. We also were pregnant with Abby at the time and though Bella said she was happy to finally have a sister, we knew it would be a big adjustment because it meant the dynamic when she visited would be different and talked to her about it and how we would do whatever we could to help her deal with it. She seemed fine with that. But truthfully, she seemed to always be more excited about news dealing with her mom than ours. When we were getting married, she was more excited about her new baby brother coming. When I was pregnant, she was more excited about her mom's wedding. And for the record, we did NOT plan to do these at the same time as their events, it just happened that way!
Then, Bella wanted to change her last name. All this time, she had gone by both her Mom's and Clayton's last name, but now she wanted to drop both and just go simply by her new stepfather's name (which would also be her mom's name and her brother's). We fought it because we didn't agree that she should be allowed to change her name until she was 18, but her mom fought us back, telling us that it was Bella's decision to make and that we should respect her decision and SHE supported her. It was us against them and it was tearing Clayton and I up. We fought it for as long as we could but his ex kept telling us that it was Bella's decision to make and not ours. He hated doing it but feared of losing his connection with Bella and finally agreed to signing the papers to allow her to change her name. With her mom not supporting us, what could we do? We thought things would get back to normal after that, however it just seemed to keep getting worse between us and Bella and her mom. Suddenly, we started getting calls that Bella was unhappy with something we had said over the weekend. We talked about everything and hashed stuff out but it didn't stop it from happening again. We became terrified of every weekend we had her and saying anything to her, for fear that it would come back in a negative way after the weekend was over (Bella would never say anything while she was with us). I tried to avoid saying anything to her that could be misconstrued. I was told by her mom to stay out of conversations with Bella because she feared I would "be mean to her", which I would never do so it hurt me that she felt like that about me. But I stayed out of it for her sake.
Then, Abby was born. It started off good. Bella insisted that we come get her immediately when Abby was born. She wanted to help choose a name. She picked out a present for her. However, we weren't allowed to pick her up when Abby was born. We wanted to, but we were told it wasn't a good time. We just figured we'd have her soon and it wouldn't matter. The first time we had Bella after Abby was born, she hovered over Abby's crib, waiting for her to wake up so she could hold her. She even dressed her in her Cabbage Patch Doll dresses (yep, Abby was that tiny!) But even though everyone was excited about Abby, everyone in both our families still made sure to give Bella extra attention, including us. We took her to the movies, we went shopping (without Abby), we watched movies after Abby went to bed, she had sleepovers with friends...but despite all this, we still got calls and Bella still had issues with something that had happened or was said. Last summer, after us having her for a whole week, we got the phone call with her mom angry that I had told Bella to call me mom and that we and my family were treating her like a little kid. I was stunned because I would NEVER ask Bella to call me mom and we did everything to give Bella independence but still, she was only 12. She stayed up later when she stayed with us because it was the weekends, she had a computer (mine but she could use it) in her room, a TV (again, not bought for her but in her room for her to watch movies and TV) and had many clothes in the closet she had bought for herself with money she had earned by doing chores or from birthday or other holidays. She had independence when she was with us. I didn't ask her often to watch Abby (only if Clayton was out and I needed to shower) and never thrust Abby on her...especially since her mom was pregnant again, so in addition to the brother she already had, her mom also operated a day care in her home, so Bella was ALWAYS surrounded by kids. I aimed to give her a break from those responsibilities on our weekends with her. She could sleep in, go read in her room (which had been decorated with her choices) or do whatever. So we were baffled. This had come out of nowhere and the whole time Bella was with us, she was fine. She never said anything that could have tipped us off. So where was this coming from?
I told her mom that I never told Bella that but she insisted and told us that we were lying and she believed Bella. She then told me to back off and to deal with my husband and she'd deal with HER daughter. I was shut out. Clayton was torn between anger at her mom for seemingly manipulating his daughter into feeling this way about us and not even trying to see our side of it and being scared he would lose his daughter. We thought if we played nice and did what she asked, she would help Bella get through this and we'd be together soon and everything would be fine.
She suggested Bella not visiting us for a little while while Bella did therapy. We were fine with this because we were told it would only be a little while. But seeing as this happening two weeks before Abby's first birthday, I suspected more. Where did this come from? Was it Bella manipulating all of us? Was it her mom playing the cards for many years, seeping poisoned thoughts into Bella's head without anyone noticing and it finally worked? Was it us not doing enough or doing too much? Was it me being too involved when I should have stood back? I was tormented by thoughts...it wrecked me. Every time I tried to talk to Clayton, he would just get more and more upset and said he didn't want to talk about it over and over again when it was clear that nothing he did was working or could change the situation.
I suggested that he go up to Guelph (where she lives) to visit her and I would stay behind with Abby. Heck I told him that if I were the problem, I'd go to my parent's house for the weekend and Bella could just see him and Abby or I could take Abby with me. Whatever it took. But no...she didn't want that. She wanted a break.
Clayton kept reaching out, calling and emailing Bella but never heard anything back. He was told (by his ex in emails cause she wouldn't call him back) that Bella wouldn't read the emails and deleted them and wouldn't talk to him on the phone. He was angry, frustrated and tired of dealing with it. But he has kept all emails he's sent so if, for any reason, Bella comes to him and says he gave up on her, he can prove that he never stopped trying.
It's almost been a year now since we've seen her and nothing has changed. Not only has she cut us off, but also all my family and all of Clayton's family...and even her own family (her mom's dad was a friend of Clayton's dad and even they don't see Bella anymore and have no idea what is happening). Like we never existed. Like we haven't been there for the last 8 years. I see pictures of her, the smiles, the jokes, the laughter, the "I love you's" and it's like my dad all over again. My therapist says that the incomplete, broken way things ended with Bella have ripped open those old wounds from growing up with an absent dad...another rejection...another loss...and no way to fix it. It aches...it burns...and I can't for the life of me understand why it happened. How do you take a happy, sweet little girl and turn her into a manipulative miserable pre-teen who hates her own family who have always been there and loved her? I was raised that if you are mad at someone, you talk to them. You deal with it. Bella is obviously not being raised the same way. Instead, if it's hard, just leave. Just don't try. Give up. So how do we deal when it's clearly wrecking us, our relationship with each other and our memories of Bella in our lives? We cling to Abby like a buoy. We kiss her endlessly, share our joy over every "love ew" and "mama", "daddy" "aw man" and kisses and hugs Abby gives out regularly. I grieve that Bella isn't here, isn't seeing Abby. Abby used to light up when Bella was there...god, she loved her so much. All we can do is wait...it feels like it's been years not seeing her. With every occasion (pumpkin carving, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Easter, Father's Day, Bella's birthday), it's like the wound opens again as we try to get through and NOT think about her. As Abby becomes more and more verbal and intuitive about her world, I only pray that Bella comes back and everything can be fixed. And I will never allow Abby to do anything like this to her family. It's not just about Bella...it's about all of us. She hurt us more than she knows and how can we ever fix this?

Is therapy therapeutic?

So I did my first session of therapy last night...yes, I'm admitting I'm all messed up in the brain...deal with it...since the going back to work and abandoning my child (I know I'm really not, but you know how it feels like) and the loss of Bella in our lives happening at the same time, it's triggered an emotional "crumbling"...if you will...so needless to say, I've been off my game for quite a while.
Anyway, after seeing my doctor and her suggesting I try therapy, I went to my first session last night. First off, I was nervous...I kept thinking "What if I open something that won't go back in? What if this fucks up my life MORE? Or ruins my marriage? Or reduces me to a slippery puddle of emotional goo that can't function in normal society anymore?" I walked into the office and waited until I saw "THE THERAPIST." I had no clue what she would look like or even be like. What if I said "Hi!" and she says "Wow, you're messed up!" I met her (short, warm friendly face, short hair, kind of looked like an aunt would) and we sat in her office. I had the option of a chair or "the couch." Not gonna lie, the couch scared me. I thought "Do I have to lay down on it?" "Why do people want to lay down and talk?" I overthink clearly too much! But since the chair had too much direct sunlight, I chose comfy couch over wearing sunglasses for my appointment. First off, I looked at her waiting for her to make the first move...what the hell do I say? Do I go chronologically? By most recent? Do I just spin a wheel and pick a time? Luckily, she understands that not everyone knows why or what they are doing and she asked me questions. And since we all know I'm a chatterbox (shut up...no comments people!), I was able to talk...I was all over the place...I even managed to put in my own theories on what I had (damn reporter in me has to investigate and figure stuff out). I'm not going into details...I'm really not that exciting, let's face it, but overall, I was crazy agitated after. I was trying to calm myself down when she said "It's normal to be all worked up and agitated after talking. So go home and do some exercise, vacuum or just cuddle with your daughter and let it out." I was relieved to hear that it was ok to be all jumbled up. I drove home (taking the scenic back route...I kind of miss that drive from Beamsville to Grimsby) and came home to a enthusiastic toddler, a wonderful husband and an lovey dovey cat. I know I'm not a lost cause and I have so much to be grateful for. I hope this therapy helps me to learn how to cope and appreciate the stuff I have better. And for the record, my bathtub is all sparkling clean...

A downslide...

Well, I knew it would be hard and I know I'm not giving up...but after a kick ass Tuesday class, Wednesday and Thursday were pretty much useless. I did squat...no, I mean nothing. Wednesday, I had a work barbecue and by the time we got home, got Abby to bed, I was ready to go to bed myself. Thursday, I was all set to kill myself (and by then, my muscles, which were only aching on Wednesday, were now in agony pain!) at another class that night. But then, it wasn't going to work out for my friend because she had no one to watch her kid, so we decided to take the kids down to the lake and walk. Exercise and kid time, bonus! But then her son had a major bad episode and that idea went down the crapshoot. By now, all my motivation was gone...I mentioned that I needed a workout partner to keep me going! I managed to talk my husband into coming with me to the downtown farmer's market and a store I needed to return shorts for Abby anyway. Except that when we got there, the market was shutting down. So we went into the store, I was looking for replacements for the shorts and Abby was driving my husband (who had a migraine) nuts by running around. So, the joy of getting out was short lived. My night was done. Am I frustrated with myself? Probably but I was too sore to care last night. And tonight, Friday night...I'm wondering how I can do anything. I was hoping to do a class tomorrow but without my husband able to watch our daughter, I can't go. It's irritating but I'm not giving up. I have to make this work. I just haven't figured out all the ins and outs of it yet. And right now, working out isn't my only challenge. When I get down...really down...I don't recover well. I eat junk and throw myself into bed and we all know how good that makes you feel! But it's not making progress. But I will keep trying. Wish me luck...I'm hoping for another class this weekend and motivation to do something else.

Breathing through the pain...

I remember when I was pregnant and when we took prenatal classes and they told us to "breathe through the pain." I remember thinking..."Yeah right, once I have the drugs, I will do all the breathing you want...but WITHOUT the pain!" And laughing at all the others who seemed to think they could breathe through the pain...suckers! But after my first exercise class last night, I think I finally get it. It's not a matter of remembering to breathe WHILE in pain, it's to breathe to take your mind off the fact that your body is screaming at you! Huh...
So after deciding on my month long blitz of getting myself in body banging condition (please don't tell my husband I said that! He'll get so excited...LOL), I went online and found that our local community centre has classes that I can either "drop in" on or pay for a 10 class pack. I decided on the 10 pack because if I commit to paying that money, I have to use the classes...even if there is no expiry on them. 10 classes in a month, I can do that! After emailing and texting all my friends to come with me, I finally found a fellow comrade in self torture. Another mom who wanted to tighten, tone and knew she couldn't do it by sheer willpower alone. I know two things about myself: 1) I need a structured environment to work out (aka a class or instructor) because if given the choice, I'll choose chocolate and the couch and 2) I need someone to come with me because if someone else comes, I have to go or I have to explain to them why I couldn't and fear being called a wuss...yep, peer pressure and bullying apparently appeal to me...who knew?
We arrived at the "Body Blast" class with NO concept of what it entailed...I figured the instructor would "blast" us with exercise. I wasn't under any delusions...I came to play and play hard. The people looking for the "lay down and do squat" classes would have to go elsewhere! I had my running shoes (note: my sneakers suck...I need new better ones that will probably cost too much!), my workout gear (blech) and my bottle of water (next time, I'm bringing the cooler!)...plus my inhaler in case this activated my asthma (which is fittingly known as EXERCISE induced asthma!). She began the class...we had those step things, two dumbbells (no, we didn't bring our husbands...they were at home watching the kids) and a long weighted bar. We were ready...or so we thought. I remember looking over at Candice at one point and wondering how she was doing and then thinking it was funny cause she was all red in the face and sweating...then I caught a glance at myself in the mirror and realized I looked the exact same...damn...the instructor had no mercy. She yelled at us if we were ready and then would make us yell out "YES!" again because our first attempt was a wussy version of a "yes" that no one but ourself could hear.
We squatted, we lifted, we crunched, we pushed, we burned (oh man, did I burn!) and then finally, there was a god and the class was over. I was laying face down on the mat contemplating just staying there until I had to get up for work the next day, but having my friend on the other side of me encouraged me to drag my weary ass up and off the mat. As we walked out into the fading heat of the day, we both briefly considered running through the splash pad located directly across from us...but who were we kidding? We were MUCH too tired to do anything at this point. So we parted ways...each vowing to do it again...I got home just in time to put my munchkin to bed, who of course wanted me to pick her up...I looked down at her and laughed feebly. Once that was done, I ate supper and crashed. Today, oh man do I ache! But I'm determined to keep going. How, I don't know...but I'm picking up more victims as I go...people who are also looking to tone, tighten and beat their bodies into a better shape. As the get fit posse grows, I will continue my (very bumpy) path to body morphing...but tonight, I'm taking a night off cause I have a company barbecue and won't be home until bedtime...but Thursday, game on!

Is about to go postal on my own butt!

Ok, I always say it but do nothing. I want to...but I'm tired. I think about it, but I chicken out. But now...right NOW...it's all done. The excuses? GONE! The laziness? Forget it! Starting today, I now have exactly ONE month to get myself in shape and I'm gonna do it.
Here's the plan: I am looking into my local gym and am signing up for the 10 pass of classes. That way, I have to use them! Then twice a week (two classes a week for two weeks and three classes for two weeks), I will hit the gym for evening 45 min classes, ranging from "body blasts" to "cardio kickbox" to "stretch & tone" to "boot camp" and one on Saturday morning (stretch and tone). Then, on the other days, I will be doing either exercises on my exercise ball, yoga, walks, etc. The motivation? The beach! In one month, I will be heading to the cottage for a whole week of fun and sun and beach...therefore, I want to feel good in my bathing suit and not like a frumpy, lumpy momma! So even though right now, I feel tired and want to gorge on chocolate...I'm going to either hit the "body blast" class tonight or do my exercise ball. I shall report in tomorrow on how that goes! You will be my witnesses cause I need to keep myself on track (since I am a master procrastinator and lazy bum). Wish me luck!!

Fireworks and toddlers don't mix...or do they?

So since Abby's been born, we haven't gone to see fireworks...seems weird but we haven't. Usually the only fireworks we try to see/do is May 2-4 and Canada Day and last year, we were away for Canada Day and did nothing for fireworks...and May 2-4, ditto. Plus, Clayton usually buys his own and we set those off at a park near his parents but we just haven't done it since she's been born. So when I got the invite to go to dinner and fireworks at my grandmother's apartment, which is facing Lake Ontario and is pretty much the best view to see fireworks (and minus the crowded environment down by the water), I thought, "this might be the best way for Abby to view them since A)we can see them but stand inside if it's too noisy, B)we'll be there with all family that she knows and is comfortable with, C)she can run around and we don't have to worry about losing her in the crowd. So, done and done! We got there, had our pizza, Abby was already having a great time going out on the balcony, coming in, going out, coming in...you get the point! She kept saying hi to my aunt Pat (her great aunt) "Hi Pat!", my sister-in-law Kelly "Hi Kelly!", my brother Rick "Hi Rick!" and my grandmother (who she is going to call Gran because my mom is called Grammy by her) "Hi Dan!" Yep, she calls her Dan...G's are a little tough for her...she calls my mom "Dammy", my stepfather "Dampy" and my best friend Niki's boyfriend (Gary) "Dary"...yep, it's pretty cute. But way too funny when she's running around going "Hi Dan! Hi Dan!" So as it got later and later (and waaaay past her bedtime!), I wondered if she would even make it to the fireworks...but as all toddlers (or kids) seem to do, she got a second wind...which might have something to do with the fact that she was chasing Pat around the kitchen into the living room over and over again while giggling manically. As the fireworks neared, my trepidation increased. The vacuum terrifies her, Grampy's air compressor makes her run away, so what would these fireworks do? All I could do was wait. I was fully prepared to make a get away if it all went sour...then, they started. I picked her up in my arms and we, along with the rest of the family, started to watch the show. And it started...and she was very intently watching them...and then a BOOM! I furtively glanced at her...but she just had a finger in her mouth chewing on it and saying nothing...but she wasn't crying or squirming. I kept saying "Wow! So pretty!" Nothing. Clayton looked at her too. Then, "Wow!" came out of her...Yeah, victory! Clayton said she was just too tired to be really enthusiastic but I didn't think so. Then, "ooh, pretty!" When the finale was coming, Clayton said "Ok...big finale!" Abby goes "Big fin-ally?" And some more "wow" and "oohs" for the finale and then, it was all over. She did so awesome. She even got out of my arms for a bit and stood with Daddy. I think we did it perfectly. She got to experience fireworks but in a controlled environment where she could be far enough back to see and enjoy them without feeling like they were too intense. Whew! I was so happy cause I love fireworks and want to share them with her...we're off to a good start! We said our goodbyes after getting her into her jammies and within 2 minutes of being in the car, she was out cold, only waking long enough for us to get into our house, give her the bottle and out again for the night...and she only woke us up the next morning at 10...good times for all!!