I am so ready for winter to be over. Normally, I like to stay inside. My family has been calling me a vampire for twenty years or so because of my tendency to hide in the basement and read books.
But this year something seems to have changed. I want to take my kids outside. I want to get some fresh air and sunshine and maybe even (gasp) a tan.
I am tired of having to let my car warm up. I am tired of toques and gloves and winter boots and jackets and wind chill warnings and I am tired of snow!!
I am Canadian, so I should be used to this stuff by now. I've had thirty years to adjust. But this year I've just had enough. This winter crap is ruining my workout momentum. And this particular winter seems to be a little bipolar. Either it's -30 celsius, or it's +5 and melting. Damn uncooperative Canadian winter. So the kids can't enjoy the snow because it's either too cold or too wet.
I remember loving winter. I like skating. I love cross-country skiing. I love the lack of bugs. And sweat. And excessive sunshine. I love that first breath you take when it's reeeeealy cold and it freezes your lungs and makes you cough reflexively. Truly. I love that feeling. That is the feeling of being Canadian. (Well, that and Tim Horton's coffee.)
But enough is enough. Mother Nature, God, whoever controls this stuff, I am hereby giving notice that I will no longer tolerate this! Unless you want me to be grumpy(er) for the rest of my life, bring on the spring already!
Love,
Nan
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Romance
First of all, I hate Valentine's day. It's a personal choice. That being said, I'm not going to berate you further on the subject.
My husband has never been particularly romantic. Stable, supportive, loving, yes. Romantic, no.
So I seek romance in the most readily available place: crappy romance novels. There. I admit it. I'm addicted to the stupid things. I pick them up at grocery stores. I take them out of the library. I borrow them from my sisters.
The truly sad thing is that most of them are so terrible I can't even finish them. I am a literary critic at heart and I hate those moments that are so ridiculous that they just throw you right back out of the story.
The word "virile", or "brawny" for instance. Any time a woman thinks of a man using either of those terms, I stop and say to myself no one uses words like that. Especially virginal young ladies.
So why would I choose to subject myself to that? It's easy. I know that romance is not a real, long-term part of love. So I let my husband off the hook (most of the time) and seek my happy-butterfly-romance fix between the pages of a paperback novel. I get all the romance I need, and my husband gets to be his loving-but-not-so-romantic self.
And for every ten terrible novels out there, there's one that makes me laugh and cry and just be someone else for a few hours, and it's all worth it. Maybe some day I will write my own romance novels. Perhaps I shall name the first, "Virile". With the quotations. Do you think anyone would get the joke? And if I hate my own writing as much as some of the books I've tried to read, I'll just burn the book rather than subjecting poor unsuspecting readers to it.
So, now you can all be jealous of all the romance and drama in my life. Or just go out and get yours in the same place. No husband or boyfriend required!
Love,
-Nan
My husband has never been particularly romantic. Stable, supportive, loving, yes. Romantic, no.
So I seek romance in the most readily available place: crappy romance novels. There. I admit it. I'm addicted to the stupid things. I pick them up at grocery stores. I take them out of the library. I borrow them from my sisters.
The truly sad thing is that most of them are so terrible I can't even finish them. I am a literary critic at heart and I hate those moments that are so ridiculous that they just throw you right back out of the story.
The word "virile", or "brawny" for instance. Any time a woman thinks of a man using either of those terms, I stop and say to myself no one uses words like that. Especially virginal young ladies.
So why would I choose to subject myself to that? It's easy. I know that romance is not a real, long-term part of love. So I let my husband off the hook (most of the time) and seek my happy-butterfly-romance fix between the pages of a paperback novel. I get all the romance I need, and my husband gets to be his loving-but-not-so-romantic self.
And for every ten terrible novels out there, there's one that makes me laugh and cry and just be someone else for a few hours, and it's all worth it. Maybe some day I will write my own romance novels. Perhaps I shall name the first, "Virile". With the quotations. Do you think anyone would get the joke? And if I hate my own writing as much as some of the books I've tried to read, I'll just burn the book rather than subjecting poor unsuspecting readers to it.
So, now you can all be jealous of all the romance and drama in my life. Or just go out and get yours in the same place. No husband or boyfriend required!
Love,
-Nan
Monday, February 7, 2011
Weight Loss
I have tried losing weight a number of times. The last couple of times I've tried I threw my back out. Badly. So I lost heart and gave up.
My family had some gorgeous pictures done at the beginning of this year. I looked at all the pictures and this is what I saw: my three sisters, who have been working hard and getting into shape and they all look amazing. (Especially the one who has lost 60 lbs in the last year. Good on her!) And me. I weighed more on the first of January than I did on the last day I was pregnant with my first child. Don't get me wrong. I love those pictures. I will proudly show my grandkids those pictures one day. But they were a wake-up call. I need to get healthy.
I had been overweight before. I lost 30 lbs about 7 years ago. But I gained some with my first pregnancy And then leading up to my wedding. And then again after my second pregnancy. It wasn't until last year that I realized that I had been depressed for about three years and that has contributed to my weight gain. (I will discuss the depression in a later post.)
So here I was, 60 lbs heavier than when I graduated 10 years ago. 40 lbs heavier than when I met my husband. And I decided to change.
A call from a friend really helped. I had been considering going to water aerobics, but had never got up the courage and the energy to go. And then Becky called, and asked me if I wanted to start taking water aerobics twice a week. I jumped at the chance. I had an accountability buddy, and someone to help me take on a daunting new experience. The workout was alot more difficult than I imagined it would be. And I loved it. Water aerobics was the perfect way to strengthen my body without straining my back.
I also made some small changes with my eating. I refuse to deny myself any specific type of food, but any kind of temptation stays out of my house. If I want to treat myself, I have to go get it. I drink at least a litre of water a day, and a large glass of milk. I eat breakfast every day. I don't snack when I'm bored. And I don't eat after 7pm. If I get hungry late I drink a glass of milk. A lot of changes, but nothing drastic.
So I am eating better, and doing water aerobics twice a week, and going for a brisk walk once a week. And I have lost 8 lbs since January 1st. So far so good! I am planning on losing 31 lbs by July. Wish me luck!
Love,
-Nan
My family had some gorgeous pictures done at the beginning of this year. I looked at all the pictures and this is what I saw: my three sisters, who have been working hard and getting into shape and they all look amazing. (Especially the one who has lost 60 lbs in the last year. Good on her!) And me. I weighed more on the first of January than I did on the last day I was pregnant with my first child. Don't get me wrong. I love those pictures. I will proudly show my grandkids those pictures one day. But they were a wake-up call. I need to get healthy.
I had been overweight before. I lost 30 lbs about 7 years ago. But I gained some with my first pregnancy And then leading up to my wedding. And then again after my second pregnancy. It wasn't until last year that I realized that I had been depressed for about three years and that has contributed to my weight gain. (I will discuss the depression in a later post.)
So here I was, 60 lbs heavier than when I graduated 10 years ago. 40 lbs heavier than when I met my husband. And I decided to change.
A call from a friend really helped. I had been considering going to water aerobics, but had never got up the courage and the energy to go. And then Becky called, and asked me if I wanted to start taking water aerobics twice a week. I jumped at the chance. I had an accountability buddy, and someone to help me take on a daunting new experience. The workout was alot more difficult than I imagined it would be. And I loved it. Water aerobics was the perfect way to strengthen my body without straining my back.
I also made some small changes with my eating. I refuse to deny myself any specific type of food, but any kind of temptation stays out of my house. If I want to treat myself, I have to go get it. I drink at least a litre of water a day, and a large glass of milk. I eat breakfast every day. I don't snack when I'm bored. And I don't eat after 7pm. If I get hungry late I drink a glass of milk. A lot of changes, but nothing drastic.
So I am eating better, and doing water aerobics twice a week, and going for a brisk walk once a week. And I have lost 8 lbs since January 1st. So far so good! I am planning on losing 31 lbs by July. Wish me luck!
Love,
-Nan
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Autism
Ah, that word. It means so many things to so many different people. For some, it seems like some sort of insidious disease that could creep up and steal your child. For some that becomes a reality. It is used as evidence that vaccinating your child is dangerous. (I personally believe that it is far more dangerous to not vaccinate.) For some it is an integral part of someone that they love, though there are certain parts they would leave out if they could.
Every person with autism is very, very different from every other person with autism. You can't tell someone is autistic just by looking at them. There is nothing about a person's outward appearance that says "that person is autistic". Autism is a spectrum disorder. That means that there are a very wide variety of people that fall under the spectrum. From very high functioning, to those who can barely speak and have little to no basic living skills. From someone who needs constant care and supervision even as an adult, to someone who can live on their own, but is a little strange. (If you want to know what I mean, Sheldon on Big Bang Theory is an almost textbook example of a person with Aspbergers, also known as high functioning autism. Wall-e, from the movie of the same name, seems very autistic as well.)
My four year old son, Noah, has autism. It's difficult to explain to people who don't know him. He is perfectly capable of sitting and playing quietly like any other kid. He will even play next to another kid his age, though rarely with them. He doesn't play pretend. His social skills are abnormal, and he often does not understand even the most basic social niceties. He can have extreme reactions to the smallest thing, and often I can't tell what has set him off. He doesn't speak normally, instead using entire phrases from books or movies, and often he uses those phrases in the wrong situations, or just sits repeating them over and over to himself. (For example, one of his favourite things to say is "I am Syndrome!" from The Incredibles. It's pretty cute when he does it though. I love my little supervillian-in-training!) Often if you ask him a question he will repeat it back to you instead of giving a response. He can be obsessive about things, like Thomas the train. And puzzles.
Not everything about autism is terrible or frustrating. My son has the most adorable quirks. I am not one of those parents who feels like autism stole their child, because Noah's onset of autism was gradual, just after he turned one year old. I've had alot of time to adjust. He is who he is, and the autism is just a part of that. I have to help him to cope in a world that wasn't designed for him, but that's just part of any parent's life. I love him just as he is. (Though there are times that I don't like him very much. Such is love.) We're currently pursuing various things to help catch him up before he starts school. We haven't tried anything radical yet, but he seems to be coping nicely, so no radical stuff in the works, either. He doesn't self-injure. (Thank God!) His main negative response is screaming. And I've found a few ways to interrupt or distract that particular negative behavior. (If you ever see us in church, right behind the choir, I let him run around a bit because if I didn't, he would scream. I figure it's the less distracting behaviour.)
October is autism awareness month in Canada. Every day is autism awareness day in my life. It's strange how the Lord gives you the strength to deal with the challenges you didn't see coming. I didn't ask for this. Autism was never a part of the dreams I held for my little boy. But it's here, and it's a part of who he is, and it's not going anywhere. So I deal with it. And with all the medical tests, and the treatments, and the paperwork, and the stress, and those days when I just want to yank out all my hair and scream, one truth remains. I love my son. All of him, even the parts I don't like.
Love,
-Nan
P.S. I will write on autism periodically, but I think I will write from a personal point of view. I am not qualified to give advice on the topic. But if you know someone who is autistic, or simply different in any way, feel free to comment, and we can swap stories.
Every person with autism is very, very different from every other person with autism. You can't tell someone is autistic just by looking at them. There is nothing about a person's outward appearance that says "that person is autistic". Autism is a spectrum disorder. That means that there are a very wide variety of people that fall under the spectrum. From very high functioning, to those who can barely speak and have little to no basic living skills. From someone who needs constant care and supervision even as an adult, to someone who can live on their own, but is a little strange. (If you want to know what I mean, Sheldon on Big Bang Theory is an almost textbook example of a person with Aspbergers, also known as high functioning autism. Wall-e, from the movie of the same name, seems very autistic as well.)
My four year old son, Noah, has autism. It's difficult to explain to people who don't know him. He is perfectly capable of sitting and playing quietly like any other kid. He will even play next to another kid his age, though rarely with them. He doesn't play pretend. His social skills are abnormal, and he often does not understand even the most basic social niceties. He can have extreme reactions to the smallest thing, and often I can't tell what has set him off. He doesn't speak normally, instead using entire phrases from books or movies, and often he uses those phrases in the wrong situations, or just sits repeating them over and over to himself. (For example, one of his favourite things to say is "I am Syndrome!" from The Incredibles. It's pretty cute when he does it though. I love my little supervillian-in-training!) Often if you ask him a question he will repeat it back to you instead of giving a response. He can be obsessive about things, like Thomas the train. And puzzles.
Not everything about autism is terrible or frustrating. My son has the most adorable quirks. I am not one of those parents who feels like autism stole their child, because Noah's onset of autism was gradual, just after he turned one year old. I've had alot of time to adjust. He is who he is, and the autism is just a part of that. I have to help him to cope in a world that wasn't designed for him, but that's just part of any parent's life. I love him just as he is. (Though there are times that I don't like him very much. Such is love.) We're currently pursuing various things to help catch him up before he starts school. We haven't tried anything radical yet, but he seems to be coping nicely, so no radical stuff in the works, either. He doesn't self-injure. (Thank God!) His main negative response is screaming. And I've found a few ways to interrupt or distract that particular negative behavior. (If you ever see us in church, right behind the choir, I let him run around a bit because if I didn't, he would scream. I figure it's the less distracting behaviour.)
October is autism awareness month in Canada. Every day is autism awareness day in my life. It's strange how the Lord gives you the strength to deal with the challenges you didn't see coming. I didn't ask for this. Autism was never a part of the dreams I held for my little boy. But it's here, and it's a part of who he is, and it's not going anywhere. So I deal with it. And with all the medical tests, and the treatments, and the paperwork, and the stress, and those days when I just want to yank out all my hair and scream, one truth remains. I love my son. All of him, even the parts I don't like.
Love,
-Nan
P.S. I will write on autism periodically, but I think I will write from a personal point of view. I am not qualified to give advice on the topic. But if you know someone who is autistic, or simply different in any way, feel free to comment, and we can swap stories.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)