|
|
|
|
|
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Week Endings: Birthday Fun
Friday, April 19, 2013
{this moment: mini-maids}
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
My Favourite Coupon App
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
A Painting and A Poem
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Week Endings
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Our Bedtime Book
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Be a Cool Mom - Exploring Gravity With RAW Eggs!
Monday, April 08, 2013
More Metabolism Boosting Drinks
Sunday, April 07, 2013
Week Endings
Saturday, April 06, 2013
Suitcase Gift Wrap Station
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders tightly as I sunk deeply into the familiar recesses of the chair. I reached for my coffee cup and I couldn’t help but breathe in the warm aromatic steam before I took the first sip.
I felt comforted.
From my chair, I could see the snow gently falling; covering the dismal lawn in a blanket of pure white.
I was glad that I had nowhere to be but right where I was. In the warmth.
You can read more of this post at All Work And No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something
|
|
If I was given the chance to redo one moment in my life, I would have never saved that patient's life.
As I was being wheeled back into the operating room on Wednesday, I began to tear up. The nurse noticed and had stopped the stretcher in the hallway. She put her hand over mine and asked me if I was nervous. I nodded my head yes.
Truthfully, I was more than excited and ready to get the first of 4 rounds of steroid injections. They meant pain relief.
I was tearing up because I was pissed that I had to be going through this.
On December 7th, 2003, I was working out at triage when I was approached by a woman asking for a wheelchair. Our ER never had wheelchairs and I more than likely smirked at her request. I asked if the patient was capable of walking in and she calmly said
"He. He is not breathing."
Without thinking I ran out to the parking lot.
You can read more at All Work And No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something
|
|
|
I can remember it like it was yesterday. It was in the very early morning hours and I had just lulled my colicky Chunky to sleep after crying for a insurmountable period of time. I looked upon this tiny bundle with regret and I felt so guilty for feeling that way. I cried as I held him tightly, knowing that there was something wrong with me. I just didn’t know what.
I can remember making my way to the computer room, with him still in my arms. I cried as I typed the words “Postpartum Depression” in the search engine. Katherine’s blog, Postpartum Progress, was the first site that came up. I scoured her blog and in it, I found what I needed so desperately to find.
Hope.
Through her, I found other blogs written by inspiring, brave women who came forth with their stories. I clung to their words on my darkest days, drawing strength from their journeys.
Those women, including Katherine, have helped me out more than they will ever know.
Where I live, there are no support groups related specifically to postpartum mood disorders and even though I had immense support from doctors, family and friends, it seemed like no one really understood what I was going through. I decided, along with my husband, to write about my journey in hopes of connecting with more women going through the same. More importantly, I hoped to help other women facing this horrific illness.
I wanted women to not feel alone.
I began chronicling my journey as honest and raw as the emotions felt. Sometimes I forget that there is a woman out there searching for hope at this very minute and they may stumble upon my journey. All that I wish for is that they find the strength they need to keep fighting or get that extra nudge to seek the help that they rightfully deserve.
Sometimes I forget how powerful my words can really be. Then I got an email that blew me away.
I was contacted by Katherine, one of my PPD heroes, telling me that I was awarded as one of 2010′s Top Ten Writers on Postpartum Depression and Related Illnesses for my post titled The Bucket.
You can read more at All Work And No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something http://www.makemommygosomethingsomething.com/?p=2391
|
|
Waiting on another email to say yay or nay about going to a big Social Media event...
pick me pick me!
Cheers,
Shanta @ Natural Mom Loves Prada
|
|
|
|
|
When I got home from work, my husband greeted me at the door like an excited little puppy. I’m always leery when I see that giddy sparkly smile because there’s only a few things that can make him that way. For example:
-
When I say ”Honey, I’m horny” because when you’re on enough antidepressants and narcotics to tranquilize a small horse of some sort, horny is something that never really happens around here.
-
The Detroit Tigers/Lions/Pistons or the Maple Leafs actually won a game
-
He read the Canadian Tire ad
-
He had such a gigantic poop at work that it took 2 flushes to “break ‘er down” and when the other workers in the shop got a whiff of his brand, his manager went outside to see if there was a septic truck outside working on the sewers because the smell was that bad. In his words “I destroyed the toilet babe!” True story and yes ladies, he’s all mine.
-
He bought a power tool thingamagig to pleasure his girlfriend “The ’95 Mustang”
As you can see, none of this make me feel as excited as he does. Even number 1…unless there is talk of wine and a back rub involved and a promise that he’ll wake up with the toddler to let me sleep in.
I digress…
So I finally get through the door and he wrapped his arms around me to give me a gentle squeeze.
With a sheepish smile he calmly says
Husband: How’s your day?
Me: Probably not as exciting as yours I can see.
Husband: No, no go ahead tell me about your day.
I could tell that he couldn’t bear to contain his excitement any longer as evidenced by his toe tapping and eye bulging so I decided to discuss a very boring, meaningless and long drawn out detail of my day.
Me: Well D was wearing an atrocious Christmas vest that looked like Santa had mated with a disco ball. It was such an awkward display of glitter and s….
Husband: Ok that’s boring. Wanna hear what happened to me today?
You can read more of this post at All Work And No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something
|
|
|
|
Have you ever found yourself in one of those uncomfortable situations where you were presented with a perfectly shaped, full-bodied but natural-looking display of beauty and you wanted to ask if what you were seeing was real or fake?
Get your mind out of the gutter…I’m talking about Christmas trees!
Now that we live in our downtown condo, we are no longer able to have a real Christmas tree. It’s too bad because we are huge fans of the real deal. But a fire code is a fire code and I will be the first to admit that those darn needles are so frustrating to clean up. So to comply with the rules my husband and I headed to Canadian Tire in search of the perfect artificial tree.
Oh Christmas Tree
Are you aware that there’s no such thing as a simple fake Christmas tree? We sure weren’t. We spent a good hour searching through the different varieties of trees that exist. There are self-shaping trees, pre-lit trees, fibre optic trees and don’t even get me started on tip count. There are trees with imitation snow, colour-changing lights and even some with remote controls. How can one take a decision like this lightly?
Overwhelmed yet? We sure were. We were completely unprepared. We should have studied before a purchase like this and had a clear plan in place before entering the store.
And the Winner Is
So finally, after comparing all of the possible options we made our decision. We then changed our minds and chose a different tree, then we went back to our original decision. In the end, we chose a 6.5’, Pre-Lit, Self Shaping Pine tree. And oh how beautiful it is…
How about you…do you have fake or real?
|
|
I wish that my husband made enough money so that I could stay home with my son.
As I pulled my coat on the day I returned to work, he came to me stumbling out of his deep slumber. He stood there in his PJ’s, rubbing at his barely awakened eyes and invoked the “Mom Guilt” in me. I crouched down and squeezed him till his scent was embedded in my clothes. When I drove to work, I cried. I wished that I could stay at home with him.
Last week I was granted serenity from the chaos at work in the form of a leave of absence. Even though we were all hit with a stomach virus, I was able to truly rest my mind and body. I enjoyed every minute of my healing, but more importantly, I enjoyed the time that I spent undivided with my son.
You can read more of this post at All Work And No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something
|
|
|
|
|
Saturday November 13, 2010
Dear PJ’s,
I miss you. I think you and I must get reacquainted this week during my “mental health” vacation. It has been an awful week and I need you more than ever. I need the protection of your fleeciness. I need for you to expand with me as I gorge myself on too many baked goods. I need you to mask any potential body odor in case I choose not to shower.
Most of all, I need you to hold me warmly, because it is fucking cold outside.
Love, Me
Sunday November 14, 2010
Dear PJ’s
I got a call from S&G. They’re visiting from Toronto and they want to take me out for coffee at a fancy place called Starbucks. They said something about buying me a Gingerbread Latte to cheer me up. I would take you with me but I think they have a dress code at Starbucks.
I have to get dressed up now. I won’t be long.
I will be thinking of you the entire time. I promise.
Love Me. You can read more of this post at All Work And No Play Makes Mommy Go Something Something http://www.makemommygosomethingsomething.com/?p=2124
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
