Ugh. This has been a crappy crappy week all round. It's been quite some time since I've had a week where I have just wanted to find the nearest cave and crawl into it, snuggle up with the bears.
For some reason I am still incredibly exhausted, though being back working out at the gym every couple of days has been helping contrary to what I initially thought. Being this tired has not been good for my mental health. I have never felt sooo close to going back on my anti-depressants in a long time. Either that or drinking a huge vat of vodka (how many calories is that anyway?).
At the beginning of the week, I was in the shower and found a lump under my arm/top side of my breast. A sizeable lump. Pea size? It's certainly not the first time I've found a lump, not the first time that I've had pause for thought. But, this is the first time that I've found one in that location. The first time that I couldn't immediately dismiss it as "another one of those annoying lumps and bumps in my admittedly fibrous breasts". I've never had one there before.
Now, any normal person would have hightailed it to the doctor, been examined, possibly sent for a scan and dealt with it from there on. But, in case you haven't noticed by now, I'm not just any normal person. In fact, I firmly believe that normal is a cycle on the washing machine. That's by the by though.
Being the ABnormal, freakish person that I am, I prefer to sit and stew and stress about things for as long as physically possible. Usually until my loving husband puts me into the car and forces me to confront the issue at hand. In this case, my health. But seeing as I haven't yet told HIM what I found, here I sit, still stewing, still stressing.
Yes yes, I know. The obvious answer that I know you're all thinking of is "well duh, get off your ass and get to the doc". And that's just what I will do. On Monday.
Since I found said lump, my stress levels have gotten higher and inevitably this has affected other areas of my life. I've been overly snappish with my children lately. I've let it creep into the way I deal with friends and have somewhat overreacted a couple of times to things that were not initially as big as they have now become. Which of course prompts the same response from them, and it becomes this never ending, viscious circle.
Could this really all stem from one teeny tiny lump? Yes. I don't deal well with stress. Stress manifests itself in nasty, horrible, Freddy Kreuger/Mike Myers sort of ways. I become this raging bitch in my relationships with other people and when I finally take a moment and suck in that calming breath, I look at the fallout from all of this and it just makes me cry.
I often wonder when I have a cold, how so much fluid could possibly come out of one person. I wonder the same thing when I end up on a crying jag like I have the last couple of days. Nothing says "I'm sexy, come to bed" to your husband more than red puffy eyes and a bitchy disposition.
Damn bodies and their quirks. Who ever would have thought that one tiny pea size lump could cause quite so much havoc, hurt, distrust, unhappiness and STRESS in one week. In one person's life, to flow into others.
I will be seeing the doc on Monday. Over the weekend, I will try and deal with all of this in a better way.Ã‚Â I will go to Weight Watchers and be DOWN. I will go to the gym and torture myself on the Eliptical Trainer. I will sleep and then on Sunday I will go to brunch with my best girlfriends (well most of them, sadly one or two won't be there). And then I will look that doctor in the face on Monday and DARE her to tell me there's anything more than a cyst in there.
To my children, I'm sorry Mommy's a raging maniacal monster this week. I love you.
To all the people I've snapped at or bitched out or glared at in the grocery store this week, well......yeah.
To my husband...I'll be back to my abnormal weirdo self soon. I love you babe!
Friday, January 18, 2008
On the off chance that you have been hiding under a rock for the last little while, let me tell you this - there is an election coming up in the United States. It has become fodder for comedians and a heavy debate topic for the media. Who should be the next President of the United States? Who is worthy of holding such a title?
This is an important decision, and one that many US citizens hope is made well this time after all, they don't want a repeat of the last fiasco. I imagine that many people are putting at least a small amount of thought into how they will vote when it comes time. But there are likely a great number of people who either don't care or are totally oblivious to what is happening around them (see previous note about rock living).
I don't claim to know all the ins and outs of the upcoming election in the US. I don't even claim to know that much about the politics here in Canada. But I do know one thing - if you do not vote, I don't see that you have that much to complain about when you don't get the desired outcome.
What prompted this rant you ask? I was vegging on the couch the other morning and watching "The View" and the election was a topic of discussion. Particularly the Democratic election. Elisabeth Hasselbeck was commenting on how she doesn't like any of the options that she has been presented with, so she "may just NOT vote". Excuse me?!?
Now, I'm not a huge fan of E.H. anyway. Frankly she rubs me the wrong way with her perky little voice, perky little boobs (haha they'll sag with all that breastfeeding), and her plethora of praise for G.W. Bush. Who IS she anyway? A "Survivor" cast off who somehow managed to get onto The View? Whatever. So pro-Bush, so pro-Republican. WHY wouldn't she vote?
It's just ridiculous. If you are old enough to vote, get off your behind and walk yourself to the polling station and be responsible.
Thursday, January 17, 2008
All too often we hear about how awful the service is at that corner store down the road, or how crappy the new mailperson is because they didn't bundle the mail properly. The guys that come with the recycling truck missed a couple of bottles, or the city workers are making your commute worse because they still haven't finished the road work. We hear these complaints all the time. Oftentimes we are the ones doing the complaining.
But how often do we commend those same support staff and labour workers? Do we ever sit back and think about the days that they have without any thanks? Come to think of it, do we ever thank those people for the services they provide or the work that they do?
Ã‚Â After weeks and months of reading rants about various services and support people around town on a local website, I was beginning to get discouraged. I worried that we as a society had lost our ability to be grateful, and forgiving even. Grateful for what these people do, forgiving for the odd time that a mistake is made or something takes too long. Then, I had a conversation with a friend about an encounter she had with a lovely bus driver, and it made me so very happy.
Seems this particular friend was having a rough morning with her son who, being close in age to my own spawn, was likely pushing every button she had as she was endeavouring to get them both out the door, fully dressed, at least half way fed and with some semblance of order. This can be particularly hard with a child that age, and when struggling out in public, there is always someone that is giving you "that look" and making you feel lower than the smallest amoeba. Thus, dealing with said hellion becomes harder and you pray for a big black hole to open up in front of you or for a friendly person to just offer the smallest of smiles and send telepathic messages to you saying "It's ok, really!"
On this morning in question, my lovely friend managed to get herself, her school books and her child to a bus stop with her sanity still somewhat intact. Bus arrived, friend and child hop on and the bus driver was one of the regular ones. The lovely man offered her a smile and a friendly comment. Perhaps this is because she bribed him with chocolate, but regardless, he made her feel a tad bit better. After being bribed with said chocolate, he offered a good luck message and they carried on. Suddenly, the struggles with the child, the upcoming classes and the worries of the morning don't appear quite so large on the stress radar. All because one person, one our city's support staff (for lack of a better description), took a moment to smile.
I can't help but wonder if perhaps more people might have these pleasant exchanges if we all took a moment to think about what the other person's story is. What are they going through? What are they having to deal with in their own lives right now?
So, this is a shout out to Stan, the bus driver who made my friend's day that little bit better.
This is a shout out to the support staff of Victoria, B.C. for all you do to help this city run better, no matter where you work or what you do.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
If you look to your right, you'll see pretty little icons for Facebook, Twitter and my RSS Feed. Feel free to click on
Otherwise, you can send me an email full of praise and awesomeness at:
mindofamadwoman at gmail dot com
I wish I didn't have to spell it out, I know how great y'all are at reading but every so often I get one of those spam bots stalking me. And not in a good way.
If you were to use the amazing Google (oh how I wish they paid me to say these things) to search for something like, say, "how to write your 'About Me' page"...you might be told to write about such things as......
the problems and goals of your reader
what does your site have to offer?
what are the benefits?
I have no
Right. Now that that's all out of the way, let's do this MY way. Which is obviously going to be better because ... well....it just is. Ok?
My name is Maggie.
I'm a Canadian girl who has had the good fortune to travel the world and has landed back in New Zealand with the family trailing after me.
Let me introduce you to the rest of the cast.
This handsome gentleman is my incredibly hot, sometimes frustrating, always adorable husband. I picked him up back in Canada and then decided to procreate with him. He's pretty cool and we like him so we keep him around.
Also? He's hot!
You'll see me refer to him as Hotty Hubby, The Man, HH or just C.
Age 11 going on 6 some days and 21 other days.
Full of attitude. Fuller still of sweetness and fantabulousness.
I think we'll keep her.
9 years old.
Cute. Strong willed like his mom and sister.
Comes up with some great one liners and despises shoes & socks. Actually, despises clothes in general but has gotten much better at keeping them on.
We're keeping him too.
We also have a foster son, D, but I'm not really meant to post pictures of him, so you'll just have to use your imagination. He's 12 and is delightful, despite (or perhaps because of) all that has happened to him. He's with us permanently and we love him just as if he had been ours since the beginning.
I wish I could say that I stick to one subject matter but I really don't. I'm all over the place and I'm fine with that.
I hope you'll stick around.