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My Very First Tweet Up

Thursday, March 11th, 2010 by Scattered Mom

Waaaaaay back in January I was chatting with Nicole and mentioned how disappointed I was that all the blogger get togethers are always in the evening or during the week and I can’t go.

Then it struck me. Quit complaining and just arrange our own, already! So we did-and being so new to this whole blogger socializing thing, I was a little naive about the numbers. The tweet up went from five to twenty people in a matter of minutes, as I sat there with my mouth agape. Wow!

Saturday came much faster then I expected, and pretty soon there I was, following directions from Google maps to Commercial Drive in Vancouver. The closer I got to the restaurant, the more I nervous I became.

What if they don’t like the real me?
Is my hair okay?
Will they notice the zit?
Should I have worn this?
Oh my God, I baked cookies, what if they hate them?
What if they are polite and say they love them, but they really hate them?
Why am I doing this?
Will I even know anyone?
Will anyone know ME?
What if I end up sitting in the corner and nobody talks to me?

Can you say….terrified? I’m not really a very outgoing person. Once I get to know you, I’m fine but until then, I’m pretty quiet. I can pull off the socializing friendly-like, but inside I’m completely freaking out.

I walked into a full restaurant and didn’t recognize a soul.

“OH! You must be Scattered Mom!” I guess my arms full of tins of cookies was a dead giveaway, huh? Getting used to being called Scattered Mom was something I didn’t expect. I’ve never been called by that name in real life before so at first I was all, “who the hell are they talking to? Oh! ME!”

There were so many wonderful women (and Dads!) there, all of who were so friendly and amazing, and welcomed me just like an old friend. Really, I had nothing to worry about even though I admit I was really self conscious. Suddenly Michelle came up and hugged me, and I knew that I knew who she was but…I couldn’t place her! At ALL! I was so embarrassed.

(It’s not surprising, actually. I am REALLY BAD with names. There are people I worked with for three years, ate lunch with every single day, and I STILL can’t remember their names. Please don’t be insulted. This is why I have the name “Scattered Mom”, you know.

And, while we’re off topic, can you even imagine going to Blog Her? This was just a small group of people. Blog Her would be down right frightening, I think. My plan is to work my way up to larger groups of people. Next stop…Northern Voice!)

We chatted, ate the most amazing crab cakes eggs benny ever, I got to hold the cutest Pop Tart I’ve ever seen while she noshed on all my fruit, and generally just got to meet everyone in person. It was amazing. And a bit weird, in a good way. Everyone was asking about Jake, Hubs, things that I’ve blogged or tweeted about lately, and it was a little strange to have people I’ve never seen know so much about me. So who did I meet? (If I forgot anyone, please let me know so I can add you.)

Musings From Mt. Rogo

Strocel.com

Resolving Timeline Issues

Michelle Kent Photography

Also? I brought my camera and only took ONE photo because I pretty much forgot about it.

These ladies were so kind, they even called me the “Canadian Pioneer Woman.” Which is, to me, the biggest compliment ever because she is just….wow.

One thing I probably repeated about a million times was my awe at all the delicious, huggable babies. Mostly because they were all so cute and I wanted to take them home with me (not all at once) but also because I felt a bit old, being the only one with a teenager.

After we ate, and visited, Michelle and I took off to find a park so Cookie could run around in the sun (it was so gorgeous outside!) and she had a taste of my really wickedly bad sense of direction mad driving skills. Marilyn joined us and there we sat; enjoying the spring sun and talking about our families and blogs.

Of course I felt incredibly guilty for not reading their blogs that much-not because they aren’t awesome bloggers, but I haven’t read anyone lately. (*hangs head in shame*) That’s been quickly changed though, because since I came home I’ve checked out everyone’s blogs and subscribed to them!

Later the evening when we finally parted, I sat in the ferry line up waiting for the boat to arrive and began to get a bit nervous again.

-what if they hate the cookies?
-what if they were just being polite?
-now that they know me, will they still like me?

Then at last, it suddenly came to me who Michelle and some of the other bloggers were. (yes, that’s me. Reaaalllly slow on the uptake)

*smacks head*

Somehow I don’t think I have anything to worry about.

Posted in Blogging and the Internets, It's All About Me | No Comments »

Dear 2010,

Saturday, January 2nd, 2010 by Scattered Mom

When I was 12 I used to dream about you. I’d sit during class with paper hidden under my books, doodling Garfield and figuring out how old I’d be when you arrived. People used to think I was working so hard, but even to this day as soon as I’m bored, I begin doodling or writing down ideas. Doesn’t everyone do that? These days I’d be called “distractable”, or maybe even “off task”, and probably assessed for ADHD. What they didn’t know was that I could listen and write at the same time, still absorbing everything that was being said.

Back in those days when we watched Michael Jackson videos, wore jelly shoes and acid wash jeans, you seemed so impossibly far away. So romantic. At lunch time I’d play games with my friends where we’d choose what kind of cars we wanted, how many kids we’d have or what type of house we’d live in, and I think that in some ways, I believed that some of those things might be possible.

So here we are, 2010. I drive a sensible Toyota, live in a rancher, have one kid, and didn’t marry Harrison Ford (although Hubs is the same age, does that count?).

You are officially just days away and I’m staring down the last year of my 30’s.

That’s a bit scary. Thirties seems young, sort of like 20’s more sensible sister but still just as pretty and fun. Forties makes me think of fifties, which signals things like becoming a grandparent and qualifying for the seniors meals in some restaurants.

Forty seems old and I’m so not ready for that. In fact, it’s almost the same age Hubs was when we met. Where did all that time go?

I spent my twenties raising other people’s children, trying to figure out who I was, and then becoming a parent myself. When I turned thirty I felt like I had finally arrived as an adult.

Now, I’m grown up. Whoa, was I in for a shock. What was I thinking?!

Thirties were when I finally had to act like an adult, and take on all the things that comes with it. Job losses and career changes, almost losing Hubs, becoming sick and injured myself, and the business of morphing from the girl that wanted to please everyone to the Momma Bear that would tear your head off should you go after my child. Yep, I grew up alright, and it was damn hard. Thirties, you were not fun. Oh you had some fun parts, yes. Overall you slammed us with some serious lows and not much in the way of extreme highs. You tested me in ways that I never thought were possible and at times I never thought I’d see the other side. I can’t say I’m that sad to see you go.

2009 was a good year, though. I really figured out that I want to make a career of writing, and all the hard work that I’ve sunk into this blog has begun to pay off. My family is all doing well and we’re happy, healthy, and together. The drama that was my 30’s is tapering off, and things have smoothed out into an easy rhythm. That’s all I could ask for, really.

Well. I would like to win the lottery and be a billionaire, like I had predicted in that stupid game but since I’m grown up now, I know the odds are just not in my favor.

So 2010, I’m planning to enjoy you and the last year of my 30’s. Maybe you don’t look as romantic and shiny as you did when I was 12, but I’m okay with that. You have laptops and iPod Touch, apps, downloads, Twitter, Blogger, and all sorts of fun things I would’ve given my right arm for at 12. I’ll never forget the Christmas I desperately wanted a computer, and the idea of owning a computer was about as impossible as buying a Ferrari.

Now that I’m grown up I’ll happily settle for peaceful and happy, with no big surprises or drama along the way. Deal?

They do say that life begins at 40, after all.

PS. But if you really feel generous, the lottery thing would be cool. Just sayin’.

Posted in It's All About Me | No Comments »

Nestle, You Ruined Smarties

Monday, October 26th, 2009 by Scattered Mom

Few candies evoke childhood memories for me like Smarties. When I was little, I’d dump out a box and immediately begin separating them by color:

Yellow
Orange
Green
Blue (not a traditional color but I grew to love it)
Purple
Pink
and of course RED! Because you have to eat them LAST!

Today I opened a box of Smarties to make Halloween cookie pops to feature here on Notes From the Cookie Jar. I dumped them into the bowl and…what?!?!

What the hell is with these technicolor candies? They look like Skittles!

These weren’t Smarties. They were impostors. Gone was the green and blue, and why was the normally pastel purple and pink now so bright they blended with the red? And why are the brown ones black? They looked like cheap, bulk bin wanna-be Smarties. Surely there must be a mistake, so I ate one.

The verdict?

I almost spit it out.

Nestle, I’m trying to be fair here, but the new Smarties are just absolutely gross. Maybe you thought you were giving people what they wanted by introducing “No artificial coloring” Smarties, but come on-we’re talking CANDY here. Candy! It’s not supposed to be healthy.

The irony is that by making a product without artificial coloring, the end product is something that has a gross, artificial, chemically after taste to it. Especially the most iconic color of all..RED!

Your site says that they taste the same, in fact…better!

I strongly disagree. The non-artificial color stuff tastes AWFUL.

I HATE THEM.

YES. HATE. THEM.

Did you hear me? Should I say it again? Or how even plain M&Ms, which I’ve never really liked, taste BETTER?

For years, I used to say how Smarties were SO much better than M&Ms, and pitied my American friends for having to go without. I used Smarties to decorate cupcakes, in cookies, trail mix, as snacks, in ice cream, on brownies, and to eat just because. Once my screen name was even Red_Smartie. I was going to feature them here in the Cookie Jar and rave about how wonderful they are because Smarties were one of THE favorite candies in our house.

Now? Now I’m just disappointed and sad. Sad because you took a perfectly good product beloved by MILLIONS of Canadians, and you ruined it.

RUINED IT.

The true test came when my 13 year old wandered into the kitchen, saw the Smarties sitting on the counter, and reached to sneak a few.

“What the HELL is wrong with these Smarties?” he sputtered, making a face. “They taste NASTY!” He pushed the bowl back on the counter and refused to touch them. There they sat, for two whole days, and not one person in the house would eat them.

I ended up throwing them away.

If you only knew how much this house adores chocolate, and especially Smarties, you’d realize just how BAD they must be for us to throw them away. Normally they would not have lasted longer then 5 minutes. Did you know that we have bought a box of Nestle favorites every single year for Halloween almost as long as Jake has been alive? Or that we’d give away all the Aero and Coffee Crisp bars to trick or treaters, specifically so we could eat the leftover Smarties?

Today, as I stood in the candy aisle and contemplated my choices for candy to give for Halloween, I did something I have never done before.

I bought Cadbury treats instead.

You RUINED them, Nestle.

Tags: candy, Nestle, new smarties
Posted in It's All About Me | 9 Comments »

The Story Behind Notes From the Cookie Jar

Thursday, September 3rd, 2009 by Scattered Mom

I had never planned to become a foster parent. It was never an aspiration of mine. In fact, I became a foster parent purely by accident. At 21, I fell in love with my husband, who at the time ran a four bed therapeutic group home for teenage street kids.

At first he told me fantastic horror stories about the kids. What I didn’t know was that it was a test-he wanted to know if I’d react like every other women he’d met and run for the nearest exit, vowing that I didn’t want anything to do with any “instant family” of troubled teenagers.

I didn’t flinch.

“Ya, well…SO?” I continued to sip my coffee, nonplussed. I didn’t see what his point was. So some of them were into gangs, addicted to drugs, straight from jail or the street. They were still kids, weren’t they? Besides, it wasn’t like I was going to marry the guy. He was, after all, forty. That is SO old.

You can stop laughing now. It’s really amazing what life throws at you, isn’t it? I married him a year later.

Hubs wanted to make sure that I knew he was a package deal. His job was something I would have to be willing to live with, literally. The package included his then 17 year old daughter, too.

“Are you SURE you know what you’re getting into?”

“Yes, of course!” was my reply-the reality was, I really didn’t have a clue. I’d grown up in a small, sheltered town with two parents that are still married today. I never did experiment with drinking or drugs as a teen, and never was in trouble at school. In many ways I didn’t have a clue how to even relate to these kids. How could I, a twenty something goody-goody church raised girl, make any sort of difference with a bunch of out of control street wise, tough teenage boys?

I sure wasn’t going to be Mom. They had one. Big sister? I wasn’t much older then they were. I somehow assumed that female role model of the house, but never really felt quite like the “Mom” figure I had suddenly become.

Suddenly, it dawned on me. I didn’t have much (if anything) in common with the kids, but I did know one thing that was the key to a teenage boy’s heart.

Food.

So, about 3 months after I moved in the house, I began to bake cookies. I grabbed a chocolate chunk cookie recipe from the back of a bag of chocolate chips, and one evening I whipped up a batch. The smell began to waft through the house, and before I knew it, my husband and all four kids were in the kitchen.

“Whatcha making?”
“You must’ve made a mix” (while looking for a package)
“I didn’t know you could bake”
“Can I have one?”
“Oooo…what kind are they?”

The cookies were no sooner out of the oven when suddenly five pairs of hands pounced on them and retreated to the porch, where there was suddenly complete silence. I began to panic. Silence isn’t good. Maybe the cookies are really, really bad. Well there goes my attempt at foster mom-hood.

“Everything okay out there?” I called hopefully.

“OH my GOD those are the BEST COOKIES I’VE EVER EATEN!”
“Can I have another one?”
“Why didn’t you make these sooner?”
“Hey thanks, they are sooooooo good!”
“I didn’t know you could bake!”

The next batch of cookies barely made it off the pan before they were snatched up as well. Hubs and the kids gorged themselves on cookies that night, laughing and licking the melted chocolate from their fingers.

From that moment on, I became the cookie baking Mom of the block. The kids knew that no matter what they did, they could depend on Hubs to provide a safe home and guidance, and me to bake them cookies. It became my way of showing them that I cared about them; by providing a bit of warmth and making our house a home away from their families. For ten years, I baked up a storm and over 80 kids, along with all our friends and family, gladly ate every single cookie.

After 10 years Hubs moved on to a different career and we no longer have foster teens living with us, but I didn’t forget the power of the cookies. Finding myself suddenly working in a high school after almost 14 years of elementary aged kids, once again I was floundering.

There was a boy that some would consider difficult; he wouldn’t often do what he was asked and it was a challenge just to get him to go to class, and then stay there for the entire period. One day we had a substitute. He took one look at her and made for the door, but I stepped in front of him and looked up at his big, hulking, teenager frame and look of “don’t get in my way.”

“If you can stay here, promise me you’ll show up to class every day this week, on Friday I will bring you cookies,” I declared. It was a gamble, really. I wasn’t sure if this would work. To my surprise, he instantly perked up.

“Cookies?” His interest was piqued.

“Yes. I am the best cookie baker you will ever meet. Kids have been known to beg me for my cookies.” Warily watching me, he sat back down and stayed the entire class.

Then showed up the next day. And the next. I kept my word and arrived with cookies for the entire class, but slipped him a few extra. So it went for the whole school year; the kids would come to class, and I’d bring them cookies now and then.

It’s a small gesture to be sure, because in all honesty, they’re just cookies. I don’t really know why there’s so much power behind such a small item. I’ve seen hulking teenage boys smile and become excited like they must have when they were small, hands hovering over the pile of sugary goodness unable to choose the perfect cookie. Some try to play it cool; no thanks, I’ll just have one. Then they eat it and sheepishly come back to grab another. Once I brought a batch and a class was so full of teenage snark that I turned around and put them in the staff room instead. The next day a boy approached me with an apology, then looked down at me with huge blue eyes and asked tentatively,

“But…will you bring some on Monday?”

How could I possibly refuse?

Maybe I know the power behind that small morsel after all. It’s not the cookies, really.

It’s the love behind them.

Originally published @ Recipes From the Cookie Jar, October 2007

Tags: baking, cookies, motherhood, teenagers
Posted in A Family Thing, It's All About Me, Raising Teens | No Comments »

I Believe: Blogging, Ethics, and Community

Wednesday, September 2nd, 2009 by Scattered Mom

Originally posted at Notes From the Cookie Jar (my main site), but it applies here as well.

This post has been rolling around in my head, like a rock in my shoe. Bumping, pushing, nagging at me, really making me question things. I think I’ve forgotten about it, then it’s back, prodding my consciousness.

In the last week I was called ’sensible’, and then one my choices as ethical, so it really got me to thinking. In terms of my blogs, and my role as a blogger, what do I believe?

The following, scribbled on notepads, discussed late at night, and pondered in the car, is the result:

1. I believe that this space, this tiny, insignificant space on the Internet that is mine, has the potential to be powerful. Am I up to the challenge? (Yes! Oh, by all means, YES.) I’m learning and growing, stretching, and I love every second of it.

As I learn, stretch, and grow, my blogs may change. They have already in the past three years I’ve been writing! My core values and beliefs, however, will not change.

2. I believe that because this space has the potential to be powerful, I need to respect that. I need to respect my readers, and in doing so, I need to give you all only the very best of me.

3. I believe that to give the best of me, I will only write what I can look back on and be proud of. That doesn’t mean I’ll censor myself, but rather that I am careful with my keyboard. When one is a writer, you realize that your words can, on one hand, be uplifting and kind, but on the other, equally cutting and hurtful. Just because I know I can write doesn’t mean I will unleash that skill in anger on people through my blog.

If I am unsure, I will write, wait, and then re-visit. I will NOT post in anger. Anger blinds me, makes me stupid and impulsive, and I will only say things that I will regret later. That includes Twitter, where it’s easy to come with one line zingers.

4. I believe in being fair and treating people, as well as companies, with dignity and how I would personally like to be treated. While I think sharing my negative experiences is fine, I don’t believe in publicly flogging or calling out someone over it. I prefer to wield my keyboard in private on that one. I will not engage in public mudslinging. It is not my job to be the customer service police, or to target people with my keyboard.

It’s not me that they have to answer to.

However, there is a catch with this one; if I feel a person or company is being completely unethical, discriminatory, or morally wrong, I will give my personal opinion on that. Sometimes, it will be done very passionately.

5. I believe that my writing and the creative process is FAR more important to me than any money, fame, or products that might be offered to me. I believe my voice should be authentic. I refuse to kiss butt, step on toes, participate in cliques, or create drama to draw more traffic to my blogs. Good writing will bring the traffic. Call me naive for that belief, that’s fine. I don’t care. I will not change who I am, nor compromise my beliefs, to fit in with other Mom bloggers.

I do not CARE about popularity or material wealth. If opportunity comes my way, I will embrace it and be grateful. I refuse to mow other people down in order to attain it.

6. I believe in being honest. If you ask me my opinion, I will answer the best I can, while being truthful but tactful as well. My stories, while sometimes altered to protect identity, are genuine. My reviews are genuine. My comments in the forums and groups are genuine. What you see here is ME.

7. I believe that no matter if you are the most famous blogger ever or someone who just started yesterday, readers/bloggers are equally valuable and I will treat you the same. Everyone gets special treatment. Cliques are not my style.

I don’t believe in, nor do I understand, celebrity worship, hierarchy, class systems, or fan-dom. If I like a big name blogger, it’s because I think they are a great person and I respect their writing, not because they are “famous”, have a lot of money, or that I will somehow profit from a relationship with them. (see #5)

If someone ignores me online, which some have, I give them the benefit of a doubt. If I’m snubbed in real life, I will consider it their loss and move on.

If you are new to blogging and I’ve someone missed your comment, tweet, or forget to acknowledge you in some way, please don’t take it personally. I’m named Scattered Mom for a reason and it’s hard to stay on top of everything. Give me the heads up by DMing me on Twitter, e-mailing me, or leaving me a message here.

8. I believe in admitting my mistakes when I’ve messed up, owning it, and then fixing things. If I ever offend a reader, I would hope that they would e-mail me so we can talk about it privately. Debate and discussion is healthy and can promote great things, but I will also not allow things to dissolve into nastiness here.

Don’t mistake honesty and kindness for weakness. I will stand up for myself, and my readers, should mudslinging begin in my space. Trolls and drama queens, you have been warned.

9. I believe in respecting my friend’s and family’s privacy, even if this means passing by juicy stories that I think would be fantastic to write, which would embarrass them. If they ask me not to write something, I will respect that. I have boundaries about what I will and will not share. These have evolved over time, and will continue to change as life goes on. Readers can forget about stories detailing my sex life, boobs, bodily functions, or disagreements with my husband.

I will NOT compromise my family for my blog.

10. I believe in sharing, helping other people, and building community. For me, this is also a big part of why I blog. The people I’ve met, and the relationships I’ve made, are all valuable to me. While I have never met a fellow blogger in real life, I know that when I do it will be a powerful experience. I am proud to be part of the blogger community and to know the incredible people that I have met in the 3 1/2 years I’ve been a part of the blogging community.

What do YOU believe?

Edited to add: Take this post and run with it. Feel free to write your own “I Believe”, and if you want, let me know where the link is in the comments. I’ll come back and post them up here.

Tags: blogging, community, ethics
Posted in Blogging and the Internets, It's All About Me | 1 Comment »

Travel Review: Canyonlands Jeep Adventures

Tuesday, August 25th, 2009 by Scattered Mom

A lot of people, once they hear about our adventures traveling through the USA, ask us for recommendations on places to go and what tour operators are the ones you want to book with.

In Moab, UT, there is no shortage of companies offering to show you a good time, and it’s difficult to figure out which ones you should go with. This summer, we chose to book our jeep through Canyonlands Jeep Adventures.

jeepadventure

Finding the type of jeep we wanted was not easy; I was given the run around by another company, which swung from promising us what we wanted to becoming rude and obnoxious, claiming that “nobody in Moab will rent you a hard top jeep in July.” Personally, I don’t know why anyone would rent a jeep in Moab through the summer without a hard top. Temperatures swing past the 100s, and without a hard top to keep the cool air conditioned air IN the jeep, you bake.

By the time I phoned Sabrina at Canyonlands Jeep rentals, I was so annoyed by my encounter with the previous company that I was ready to eat kittens for breakfast. Soothing, professional, and…want a jeep with a hard top? Absolutely! I reserved it right then and there. I went away feeling like maybe, just maybe things would work out after all.

I must admit I was just a little skeptical. Would they really deliver? Yet another company in Moab took our reservation a few years ago, promised us a hard top Jeep, only to try to back out the day we picked it up.

Were we ever in for a treat. Not only did Canyonlands Jeep Adventures deliver the jeep we promised, but they were friendly, professional, and we were charged exactly what we were quoted. Included in our rental was a cooler and ice for each day we were on the trail, plus a map and directions of recommended trails. The jeep was in great condition, clean, and ready to go! It wasn’t just about the jeep, though. The staff not only remembered us and made sure our jeep was ready when we arrived, but they were genuinely interested in if we had a good time. They wanted us to have fun out on the trail and leave with good memories of our time in Moab. We weren’t just a tourist to make money off of, but instead welcomed by the locals as people who shared a genuine love of jeeping.

That, my friends, makes all the difference.

You can bet we won’t be renting from anyone else!

Read their blog

Follow them on Twitter

finsnthings2

Tags: Canyonlands Jeep Rental, family vacation, jeep, Moab, rental, travel
Posted in It's All About Me, Travel Near and Far | No Comments »

Recipe Tuesday: Drunken Peaches

Tuesday, August 18th, 2009 by Scattered Mom

peaches2

What to do with a box of fresh peaches? Why not do a little canning? I found a recipe for Rum Peaches, and couldn’t wait to give it a try.

peaches

It was a bit messy, and the recipe wasn’t for the faint of heart, but in the end the rewards were worth it!

drunkenpeaches-1

Sweet and syrupy with a hint of rum, these are amazing spooned over ice cream, or paired up with angel food cake and whipped cream. You will find the recipe over here, and I added some canning tips over at Recipes From the Cookie Jar.

Enjoy! Let me know if you try them and how they turn out.

Tags: canning, peaches, recipes
Posted in It's All About Me, The Food Files | No Comments »

Fit By 40

Monday, July 27th, 2009 by Scattered Mom

I have no motivation to exercise. None. Zero. Nada. Don’t wave statistics at me, or pictures of movie stars, or tell me it’s fun. It’s not fun. Exercise is akin to torture in my mind. Besides, having been thin all my life, I didn’t think I had to exercise.

*snort* okay, I was wrong. I do need to. Over the past few years I’ve gone soft and flabby, developed a muffin top, and I am always tired. Plus my clothes don’t fit right. (looks at the full cookie jar on the counter)

Let’s just say that baking cookies for my family, posting photos of them all over my blog and raving about them has been hard because I always end up eating them. Especially the white chocolate macadamia ones.

With the summer off there is no excuse to sit on my butt, and in while thinking about it and in search of motivation, something suddenly dawned on me.

My fortieth birthday is in March 2011. Forty. The big 4-0. I will be damned if I hit that milestone being flabby or fat, and finally the phrase, my motivation, my goal, flashed like a giant billboard in my head.

The goal isn’t something huge and unattainable, I swear. It’s something small and manageable every day, just a bit at a time so that by the time my 40th birthday comes, I am more healthy.

I want to kayak next year with Jake down the Colorado River.

I want to be able to keep up with my 13 year old when we mountain bike Stanley Park and Steveston next month.

I want to lose the muffin top and be healthy. For a lot of 2008 I was sick; so sick that some days, I couldn’t get off the couch. I don’t want to be sick like that ever again.

Plus an entirely selfish reason; I plan to go to Blog Her 2011. And I want to look HAWT. Not “oh you look good for (cough) 40″ hot.

Sizzling, smoking, “oh my god you CAN’T be 40!” hot.

I’ll post about Fit by 40 here exclusively on Everything Mom and you (yes, YOU!) are invited to join me.

There is absolutely no pressure. You don’t have to blog about it, join a gym, or anything. Grab a button if you want, let me know you’re in, and we can motivate each other together. Just make a goal for yourself. Make it small. Make it manageable. So far, all this week, have done something active every single day and stayed away from the cookie jar!

I know that once I get started I can do it. How about you?

(If you cut and paste, and notice the links don’t work go back and check the ” signs. When I put a button my blogger blog, I noticed that the ” had doubled.)

Tags: "Fit by 40", exercise, motivation
Posted in It's All About Me | 2 Comments »

Unplugged

Monday, July 13th, 2009 by Scattered Mom

Ah, summer. Long lazy days where I can sleep in until noon and stay in my pjs most of the day, go to the beach, enjoy a cold iced tea, and generally kick back.

Well. Not really. Actually I’ve been cooking up something top secret around here-so totally secret that I can’t even SAY what it is until sometime next week. Let’s just say that I’ve been a busy girl and that whole lounging in the pjs thing? Has so NOT been happening!

This busy stuff has kept me from the computer, which at first had me twitching in withdrawal, but eventually I got used to my nearly computer-free existence and adjusted. Then I noticed that I dropped 5 lbs almost instantly. Hey! What a way to diet, just cut back on blogging! This tells me I need to get out from behind the screen just a bit more and enjoy the uber-awesomeness (Jake’s new-found weird-teenager phrase) that is SUMMER.

Have I been…

-breeding a species of indestructible garden plants?
-compiling a field guide for parents of teenagers?
-corralling Jake and his buddy while they brew up some root beer?
-developing some way awesome new recipes?
-working on my sun tan?
-kidnapped by aliens?

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Strangers and Angels

Saturday, May 23rd, 2009 by Scattered Mom

After watching Kara DioGuardi sing on the American Idol finale, and realizing that boy, that girl can really sing, I looked up some videos of her on You Tube. As I poked around, I stumbled onto this beautiful song that has stayed with me all day (this video has the lyrics too).

Have you had an angel? Sometimes it’s the little things that a perfect stranger does for us, or things we pass off as co-incidences, that speak to us. Mine came in the form of a woman just doing her job as a telephone operator for Telus.

It was just a cold, really. Colds aren’t supposed to make you sick. At least, not THAT sick.

“Honey, I’m off to work, okay?”

Silence. Hubs just lay on the couch, the sound of his labored breathing so loud I could hear it across the room. His face was ashen.

“Hey, do you want me to stay home?”

Silence. I was beginning to get scared by then. Hubs is the kind of guy that rarely ever admits that he’s sick, and lord help you if you try to baby him, because he will yell at you.

I had no idea what was to come. Phone calls to the doctor, an emergency room exploding into a frenzy of activity, nurses berating me for not calling 911, and finally, Hubs being admitted so they could keep an eye on him. By the next day he seemed better, and we hoped that maybe it was just a freak incident.

We were wrong.

The morning started out like almost any other; drop Jake off at school, grab a coffee, and head up to the hospital to see Hubs. Only this morning was going to be different.

As I rounded the corner and entered Hub’s room, something was off. Something was missing.

His bed, and Hubs, were not there.

Upon seeing me, the nurse pointed down the hall.

“ICU. Third floor.”

This can’t be happening. It was just a cold. He has to be okay. Please tell me he’s okay....

I gripped the cold metal hand rail in the elevator like a life raft, forcing myself to breathe. Stay calm. Don’t fall apart now, he needs you.

Hubs wasn’t fine. We found out later that he had, in fact, cryptococcal disease-a rare, but deadly, condition caused by the fungus Cryptococcus gattii. His lungs were so full of mucus that he couldn’t get any oxygen and he was, quite literally, suffocating. As he lay in bed, a sickly shade of grey, I was forced to confront the ugly reality that I could be going home without him.

It was just a cold. Colds aren’t supposed to kill people. You’re not supposed to leave now-I’m only 30, we have a 5 year old, this just can’t be happening. It can’t.

My only lifeline out of that ICU that morning was a pay phone. My purse, emptied from a few days before, didn’t have phone numbers or even a quarter. Determined to contact somebody, anybody, to raise the alarm that we needed help, I called the operator.

I don’t remember why I couldn’t make a collect call, but I then tried to explain that I had a credit card and could she charge it to that? Or something? Anything?

“I’m sorry Ma’am, I can’t. You have to insert some coins. Why not find an ATM and get some change?”

“You don’t understand,” suddenly all the fear that I had kept so carefully hidden from Hubs and the nurses, that I had squelched in the elevator, the other people who had looked at me with pity when I found Hub’s empty space, just came pouring out in sobs.

“I’m calling straight from the ICU at the hospital, because I just arrived to find my husband here. I can’t leave. Not even to an ATM. I have no family here, and he might die. I have to make this one phone call….”

Silence. Just for a second, really, and then the sweet trill of the phone as it began to ring on the other end.

She put me through. I’m not sure how, or if she’d get in trouble for it if someone knew, but in the most desperate time of my life, she was there.

Whoever you were, thank-you.

You were MY angel.

Edited to add: Hubs recovered fully from his experience, although today he has lasting lung damage. The doctors tell us that he was very, very, VERY, lucky. According to the BC Center for Disease Control, Cryptococcal gatti occurs naturally in the soil and on the trees of Vancouver Island. Six months before Hubs became sick, we had unknowingly been hiking around the Nanaimo area, which is said to have the fungus. At the time there was little, if any, information available to the public about even the possibility of a fungal infection, and the doctors didn’t even clue in to that possibility until much later. While today, some will say that the chances of getting cryptococcal are very small, I strongly believe that if you are choosing to vacation on Vancouver Island it is wise to educate yourself about the symptoms of cryptococcal disease. In our experience, the illness showed up as a cold and over the course of a weekend progressed to full on respiratory distress. I was told later that had I not realized something was wrong that fateful morning as I was leaving for work, he would have died some time that afternoon. Jake was also home sick that day.

I don’t even want to think about what that might have been like.

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