May 31, 2011

Spring into Shape Day 2: It's too hot to write

The laptop is emitting a lot of heat, it's 9L00pm and 27 degrees Celcius and I am sweating. Do I really have to turn the AC on already?

Let's rewind to the beginning of the day. We had a get together in the park with about 20 mummies and we came prepared with lots of yummy healthy treats to eat. For instance, the frozen grapes. I'm addicted! I can't believe that I've never tried those before. And talk about a good treat. Forget needing to go for ice cream everyday. Wait- maybe not that good, but super duper good. We ate a lot of fruit, and had a big salad. Very refreshing.

As I predicted with all the sweat that came off of me today, I must have lost at least 1 pound! Or could it be 2? Nonetheless, getting all the toxins out through sweat is good for the body, right? Enough talk about sweat though!

X-man and I took a walk after the park which only enhanced the burning feeling in my legs from yesterday's stroller fit. We also spent time in the backyard playing around. Not a super active day, but realistically, I am not about to exercise everyday.

Dinner was barbecue 'mititei'. This is a Romanian combo meat of pork and beef. Doesn't sound good? But it is, especially done on the barbecue and with sides of coleslaw and potato salad. And for dessert, plain yogurt with frozen berries. Ok, I admit, I threw in some chocolate chips...hey, a girl can't deprive herself of everything!

On to stroller fit tomorrow. Can't say I'm looking forward to it with the heat, but I will give it a go. 
How do you keep cool when exercising on super hot days?

May 30, 2011

1st day of Spring into Shape: Stroller Fit

Today I attended a Stroller Fit class run by a fellow mummy who is actually a fitness trainer. 
Prior to signing up to this class, a friend and I had already decided to set-up our own. It came about one day when she was asking a bunch of us if we'd like to sign-up for some stroller fit classes. I said that I'd rather not pay for something like that and why don't we set-up our own. She agreed whole heartedly and I haven't done a thing for it since then, however, she has dedicated time to looking up some youtube videos for ideas and even typed up a list of exercises we can work our way through. How awesome is she for doing this?!
Back to today though. Mummies and babies met by the lake, ready to become fit. Let's talk about how hot it was for a second. It was pretty darn hot! I was already sweating from the walk to our exercise spot! How pathetic is that? X-man was pretty co-operative for the most part. I did take him out and put him on the mat and he entertained himself with Cheerios and my water bottle. As for the exercise, there were a lot of squats involved! We also did lunges, pushing and pulling the stroller or holding the babies. A few push ups were attempted, I mean real ones, not girly on your knee ones. I actually managed to complete a few, and by a few, I think I mean 4. These bicep muscles must be from carrying around the baby all the time! Then we were instructed to do the plank. Well my friends, I am not friends with the plank. Lets leave it at that. All in all, it was a good experience. Tiring because of the heat, and it makes it harder having to attend to a baby the entire time, but I'm glad I went out and did it, and it will all help in the long run. Next Spring into Shape activity is a picnic in the park tomorrow. You may be asking yourself, how is a picnic equivalent to exercise? My answer to you is that I have a 9.5 month old who is very active. Although not walking yet, he goes anywhere and everywhere and wants to see and touch everything. Not that at any age he sat still anywhere, but now he is mobile. So tomorrow, in the predicted 41 degree Celcius heat, I will be sweating off the pounds while chasing my baby in the park. Wednesday will be another stroller fit class, but this one will be lead by my friend and I who have no experience whatsoever!
As for my food regimen was touch and go. Had a good breakfast, no lunch, went to the Romanian store and bought Cremsnit. I know, I know, I shouldn't have. For those who don't know what Cremsnit is, it's a pastry made of flour, powder sugar, milk, yolks, vanilla and butter. It's basically a custard filling inside of phyllo dough. Here's a picture of it before I ate it. I'm drooling just looking at it.

And dinner was a yummy steak made on the barbecue, so no oil involved, but I added 2 spoonfuls of teriyaki sauce and a simple salad of greens, tomato, red onion, celery and cucumber, with lime juice dressing. And it looked something like this.

And this is what I popped in the freezer this evening in preparation for tomorrow's heat. This will be my first time trying frozen grapes and I have no doubt that I will enjoy them very much. And the little man will have to settle for regular non-frozen ones.

Check out the rest of the ladies involved in Spring into Shape:

Grandma's Guide to Life



May 29, 2011

In light of...

my Spring into Shape Challenge, I encourage you to visit some of my previous posts where I have included a variety of recipes with healthy meals.

Spring into Shape

1,2,3,..., let's try that again.
1,2,3, GO!!!!
This marks the beginning of my 2 week Spring into Shape Challenge. Along with some other fellow bloggers, I am embarking on yet another weight loss/healthy lifestyle, however you want to call it, journey.
In the past 9 months since having X-man, I have done a few things to help myself out, but nothing lasts long. Not that 2 weeks is a long time, but at this point, I have few reasons for wanting to do this and this is the last kick in the butt motivator that I need to get going.
Check back daily to see what I am doing to lead a healthy lifestyle.

Just to remind you: I am a new mum with a 9.5 month old baby. I dislike exercising very much and love chocolate, ice cream and can sit down and eat a jar of Nutella within an hour. As you can see, I am no health nut, so everything I do and will be doing are things that I believe, the "average mum" can do.
Nothing I do is extreme and my personal expectations are very realistic. 
With that, all I can say is, off we go!

May 27, 2011

Tonight's dinner *Warning* Very bad pictures

A little while ago I started documenting what I was making for dinner in an effort to inspire myself to be creative and thus to begin a healthier lifestyle. I was doing really well for a while and then fell off the wagon. So, here we go again, by knowing that I'm going to post meals I prepare, it makes me want to change things up and try new things.
This evening's meal was good, made up of some leftovers and fresh items, but I didn't have my camera with me so I used my phone, hence the bad quality pictures and the food not looking so appetizing. 


- chicken breast, whole
- teriyaki sauce
Earlier in the day I placed the chicken breast in a ziploc bag and poured in the teriyaki sauce so that it would soak it in.

- 1 red pepper, sliced
- 1 zuchinni, cut lengthwise
- 3 green onions, chopped
- 1 handful of cherry tomatoes
- Macedonian feta cheese, pieces
- yellow wax beans
- 2 garlic cloves, sliced
- canola oil


Pour very little oil in skillet and turn on. Once oil is hot, place chicken breast in skillet. Cover with lid and turn heat to low-medium so that sauce doesn't cook too fast and caramelize. After 10 minutes add the red pepper, zucchini and green onions. Cook for approximately 15 more minutes. Ensure chicken is cooked through by cutting open a little section in the thickest part of one of the breasts.

As the teriyaki sauce cooks, it gets darker and thicker.

Side dishes

Chop both ends off the beans. Wash well in strainer. Cook in boiling water for 10-15 minutes, until beans have reached your desired tenderness. Some people prefer them crunchier rather than soft, so it's up to you to make that decision. Heat up oil in a pan, add garlic. When oil ready, add beans. Toss every couple minutes to coat all the beans in garlic. Sauté for 5 minutes at high heat. 
I also added a mini salad on the side of cherry tomatoes and feta cheese.

I love feta cheese, but the best is Macedonian. It's creamy and smooth and so yummy.

May 26, 2011 Are you familiar with it? It's an international site where you can create a group based on an activity, a common like or to bring similar people together. For example, if you are learning Spanish and you'd like to meet other people who want to practise conversing in it, you can try to find a local meetup to do that with, or if you are interested in yoga, you can find like minded individuals. I went on to look for mummy groups where I could meet other new mums and X-man could make friend to play with. I was very successful! I actually found two in my local area. I immediately joined the groups and signed up for my first activity, a walk around a local lake with our babies. 3 other mummies signed up so I thought that would be a good start to meeting people.  I showed up a few minutes early and waited at the designated meeting spot. And I waited. And waited some more. The description had said that "we will wait 10 minutes for any latecomers and then get started". I decided to give everyone an extra 5 minutes. Nada, nothing, nobody showed up. I have to say that I was bummed. I had been a bit nervous when I showed up, and now I felt a bit...silly, disappointed, I'm not sure what it was. Anyway, I sucked it up and went on the walk anyway because we all know that I needed the exercise! 

A few days later, I decided to sign up for another walk and this one had 8 mummies signed up. I thought to myself that for sure, at least 1 person has to show up out of that many. And they did! All 8 of them. It was slightly awkward in the first few minutes as we gathered there with our babies. The best ice breaker was checking out each others' babies. As we waited those 10 minutes for latecomers, X-man was very well behaved in his stroller, he was just under 3 months at this point, until the last minute. I realised that he was hungry and I thought, crap, we're just about to start walking and this guy wants to suck on the boob, great. I told the other ladies that I was going to catch up to them as I had to feed him, and one of the mummies said "Oh no, you go feed him and we'll wait.", and I thought that that was so nice of her to say that. That one comment attracted me to her and we talked quite a bit during the walk, to the point that when the other ladies decided that at the hour mark they were done walking, we both looked at each other and agreed to continue walking together. That was almost 7 months ago and we have become very close. Our children our 4 days apart which makes it even better because they have been reaching various milestones at more or less the same time, however they are still so different. My new mummy friend Pats and I have gotten together at least once a week, if not more and this has been the beginning of a wonderful friendship. We have leaned on each other numerous times for moral and emotional support. We complain about our weight and support each other's weight loss journey, we've laughed at things our babies have done, we've whined about our partners and simply put, we've just been there for each other. Even though I've made a number of other friends and continue to do so, it's Pats that I message at 11pm with some stupid comment, or she messages me at 7am to see if X-man is awake (this is a rare ocurrence!).
To all the new mothers out there, I wholeheartedly encourage you to seek out a mummy group in your area and join join join. It is so nice to have other people to talk to who are going through the same experiences as you and have just as many, if not more questions than you do. Often times there are also plenty of women who have older children or are on their 2nd and can provide some advice. Whatever the case may be, get out there, meet people, sit on the floor while your baby rolls around and discuss poop and spit up!

May 25, 2011

Make it stop

Stop making chocolate chip cookies!! You are the only one who eats them!! You are going to regret this!

May 24, 2011

Healthy mind, healthy body

The Biggest Loser Challenge I was in and has come to an end. I was one of the winners, tying with another mummy. I'm proud of the weight loss, and people are definitely noticing, however I am still a good 20 pounds from the weight I would like to be at and where I would feel healthy.

I have now vowed to make a much bigger effort with the continuation of my healthy lifestyle, in part because of a health problem that has now arisen. 

I'd had the pain a number of times, but never though twice about it. I'm not the type of person to complain to others about pains I have, so I'd never mentioned it. I tended to blame it on the under wire in my bra digging into me or on carrying the baby around too much and figuring it was just muscle pain. However, one night last week, I couldn't take it. I was so close to waking my husband to say that I was going to drive myself to the ER, but I didn't bother. I was moaning and groaning, something I never do, I always keep that sort of thing to myself, but I just could not take the pain anymore. I didn't know what to do with myself. I took deep breaths, I walked around, I lay in every position possible, but to no avail. Nothing alleviated the pain. I finally put a wet cloth soaked in hot water on the affected area and that seemed to soothe the pain slightly. Of course, the heat lasts about 30 seconds and then disappears. I know we have a hot water bottle and I can picture it in the basement, somewhere. I didn't have the energy to go look for it, so I decided to wet the towel again and try to go to sleep. It worked. The pain lessened enough for me to be able to fall asleep. After 2 hours of intense pain, I was asleep. I told my father about it the next day and suggested I go have an ultrasound just to make sure nothing was wrong. I had it done a few days later and found out the next day that I have gallstones. At home, I spent some time reading up on them on the internet and I find the whole thing really icky. Bile deposits forming stones. Gross. Really gross. Although not totally proven, diet is said to be a big factor in their formation, and it definitely affects their movement. Whether they try to pass through to the pancreas or not.  So, that's what I had, pancreatitis due to a stone trying to pass from my gallbladder to my pancreas. I don't know why I find it gross, my mom thinks that's funny, but I do. I've been eating such crap that it made stones, pebbles, rocks! Inside my body! That is outrageous! So, after having some blood work done to confirm everything, it has been decided that I need to have surgery to have my gallbladder removed. Oh joy. It will be a laparoscopic surgery, done with a small incision and a camera inserted, so as long as everything goes well, I will leave the hospital a few hours later. A friend of the family will be performing the surgery, and I have full faith in him and am not worried at all. The only thing is the anesthesia. You never know what will happen when you get put under. I will think positive, but am going to have my will done up regardless!

May 21, 2011

Parents keep child's gender secret

Toronto Star article on raising your child genderless, by Jayme Poisson. Let me know what you think after reading this.

May 21, 2011
Jayme Poisson

They didn't name their son after boxer Evander Holyfield, but the Tahons won't put up a fight if you think they did — it was the first thing they thought of too.
“So it’s a boy, right?” a neighbour calls out as Kathy Witterick walks by, her four month old baby, Storm, strapped to her chest in a carrier.
Each week the woman asks the same question about the baby with the squishy cheeks and feathery blond hair.
Witterick smiles, opens her arms wide, comments on the sunny spring day, and keeps walking.
She’s used to it. The neighbours know Witterick and her husband, David Stocker, are raising a genderless baby. But they don’t pretend to understand it.
While there’s nothing ambiguous about Storm’s genitalia, they aren’t telling anyone whether their third child is a boy or a girl.
The only people who know are Storm’s brothers, Jazz, 5, and Kio, 2, a close family friend and the two midwives who helped deliver the baby in a birthing pool at their Toronto home on New Year’s Day.
“When the baby comes out, even the people who love you the most and know you so intimately, the first question they ask is, ‘Is it a girl or a boy?’” says Witterick, bouncing Storm, dressed in a red-fleece jumper, on her lap at the kitchen table.
“If you really want to get to know someone, you don’t ask what’s between their legs,” says Stocker.
When Storm was born, the couple sent an email to friends and family: “We've decided not to share Storm's sex for now — a tribute to freedom and choice in place of limitation, a stand up to what the world could become in Storm's lifetime (a more progressive place? ...).”
Their announcement was met with stony silence. Then the deluge of criticisms began. Not just about Storm, but about how they were parenting their other two children.
The grandparents were supportive, but resented explaining the gender-free baby to friends and co-workers. They worried the children would be ridiculed. Friends said they were imposing their political and ideological values on a newborn. Most of all, people said they were setting their kids up for a life of bullying in a world that can be cruel to outsiders.
Witterick and Stocker believe they are giving their children the freedom to choose who they want to be, unconstrained by social norms about males and females. Some say their choice is alienating.
In an age where helicopter parents hover nervously over their kids micromanaging their lives, and tiger moms ferociously push their progeny to get into Harvard, Stocker, 39, and Witterick, 38, believe kids can make meaningful decisions for themselves from a very early age.
“What we noticed is that parents make so many choices for their children. It’s obnoxious,” says Stocker.
Jazz and Kio have picked out their own clothes in the boys and girls sections of stores since they were 18 months old. Just this week, Jazz unearthed a pink dress at Value Village, which he loves because it “really poofs out at the bottom. It feels so nice.” The boys decide whether to cut their hair or let it grow.
Like all mothers and fathers, Witterick and Stocker struggle with parenting decisions. The boys are encouraged to challenge how they’re expected to look and act based on their sex.
“We thought that if we delayed sharing that information, in this case hopefully, we might knock off a couple million of those messages by the time that Storm decides Storm would like to share,” says Witterick.
They don’t want to isolate their kids from the world, but, when it’s meaningful, talk about gender.
This past winter, the family took a vacation to Cuba with Witterick’s parents. Since they weren’t fluent in Spanish, they flipped a coin at the airport to decide what to tell people. It landed on heads, so for the next week, everyone who asked was told Storm was a boy. The language changed immediately. “What a big, strong boy,” people said.
The moment a child’s sex is announced, so begins the parade of pink and barrage of blue. Tutus and toy trucks aren’t far behind. The couple says it only intensifies with age.
“In fact, in not telling the gender of my precious baby, I am saying to the world, ‘Please can you just let Storm discover for him/herself what s (he) wants to be?!.” Witterick writes in an email.
Stocker teaches at City View Alternative, a tiny school west of Dufferin Grove Park, with four teachers and about 60 Grade 7 and 8 students whose lessons are framed by social-justice issues around class, race and gender.
When Kio was a baby, the family travelled through the mountains of Mexico, speaking with the Zapatistas, a revolutionary group who shun mainstream politics as corrupt and demand greater indigenous rights. In 1994, about 150 people died in violent clashes with the Mexican military, but the leftist movement has been largely peaceful since.
Last year, they spent two weeks in Cuba, living with local families and learning about the revolution. Witterick has worked in violence prevention, giving workshops to teachers. These days, she volunteers, offering breastfeeding support. At the moment, she is a full-time mom.
Both come from liberal families. Stocker grew up listening to Free to Be ... You and Me, a 1972 record with a central message of gender neutrality. Witterick remembers her brother mucking around with gender as a teen in the ’80s, wearing lipstick and carrying handbags like David Bowie and Mick Jagger.
The family lives in a cream-coloured two-storey brick home in the city’s Junction Triangle neighbourhood. Their front porch is crammed with bicycles, including Kio’s pink and purple tricycle. Inside, it’s organized clutter. The children's arts and crafts projects are stacked in the bookcases, maps hang on the walls and furniture is well-used and of a certain vintage.
Upstairs they co-sleep curled up on two mattresses pushed together on the floor of the master bedroom, under a heap of mismatched pillows and blankets. During the day, the kids build forts with the pillows and pretend to walk a tightrope between the mattresses.
On a recent Tuesday, the boys finish making paper animal puppets and a handmade sign to celebrate their dad’s birthday. “I love to do laundry with dad,” reads one message. They nuzzle Storm, splayed out on the floor. The baby squeals with delight.
Witterick practices unschooling, an offshoot of home-schooling centred on the belief that learning should be driven by a child’s curiosity. There are no report cards, no textbooks and no tests. For unschoolers, learning is about exploring and asking questions, “not something that happens by rote from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. weekdays in a building with a group of same-age people, planned, implemented and assessed by someone else,” says Witterick. The fringe movement is growing. An unschooling conference in Toronto drew dozens of families last fall.
The kids have a lot of say in how their day unfolds. They decide if they want to squish through the mud, chase garter snakes in the park or bake cupcakes.
Jazz — soft-spoken, with a slight frame and curious brown eyes — keeps his hair long, preferring to wear it in three braids, two in the front and one in the back, even though both his parents have close-cropped hair. His favourite colour is pink, although his parents don’t own a piece of pink clothing between them. He loves to paint his fingernails and wears a sparkly pink stud in one ear, despite the fact his parents wear no nail polish or jewelry.
Kio keeps his curly blond hair just below his chin. The 2-year-old loves purple, although he’s happiest in any kind of pyjama pants.
“As a result, Jazz and now Kio are almost exclusively assumed to be girls,” says Stocker, adding he and Witterick don’t out them. It’s the boys’ choice whether they want to offer a correction.
On a recent trip to High Park, Jazz, wearing pink shorts, patterned pink socks and brightly coloured elastics on his braids, runs and skips across the street.
“That’s a princess!” says a smiling crossing guard, ushering the little boy along. “And that’s a princess, too,” she says again, pointing at Kio with her big red sign.
Jazz doesn’t mind. One of his favourite books is 10,000 Dresses, the story of a boy who loves to dress up. But he doesn’t like being called a girl. Recently, he asked his mom to write a note on his application to the High Park Nature Centre because he likes the group leaders and wants them to know he’s a boy.
Jazz was old enough for school last September, but chose to stay home. “When we would go and visit programs, people — children and adults — would immediately react with Jazz over his gender,” says Witterick, adding the conversation would gravitate to his choice of pink or his hairstyle.
That’s mostly why he doesn’t want to go to school. When asked if it upsets him, he nods, but doesn’t say more.
Instead he grabs a handmade portfolio filled with his drawings and poems. In its pages is a booklet written under his pseudonym, the “Gender Explorer.” In purple and pink lettering, adorned with butterflies, it reads: “Help girls do boy things. Help boys do girl things. Let your kid be whoever they are!”
Storm was named after whipped winds and dark rain clouds, because they are beautiful and transformative.
“When I was pregnant, it was really this intense time around Jazz having experiences with gender and I was feeling like I needed some good parenting skills to support him through that,” says Witterick.
It began as a offhand remark. “Hey, what if we just didn’t tell?” And then Stocker found a book in his school library called X: A Fabulous Child’s Story by Lois Gould. The book, published in 1978, is about raising not a boy or a girl, but X. There’s a happy ending here. Little X — who loved to play football and weave baskets — faces the taunting head on, proving that X is the most well-adjusted child ever examined by “an impartial team of Xperts.”
“It became so compelling it was almost like, How could we not?” says Witterick.
There are days when their decisions are tiring, shackling even. “We spend more time than we should providing explanations for why we do things this way,” says Witterick. “I regret that (Jazz) has to discuss his gender before people ask him meaningful questions about what he does and sees in this world, but I don't think I am responsible for that — the culture that narrowly defines what he should do, wear and look like is.”
Longtime friend Ayal Dinner, 35, a father two young boys, was surprised to hear the couple’s announcement when Storm was born, but is supportive.
“I think it’s amazing that they’re willing to take on challenging people in this way,” says Dinner. “While they are political and ideological about these things, they’re also really thinking about what it means and struggling with it as they go along.”
Dinner understands why people may find it extreme. “Although I can see the criticism of ‘This is going to be hard on my kid,’ it’s great to say, ‘I love my kid for whoever they are.’”
On a recent trip to Hamilton, Jazz was out of earshot when family friend Denise Hansen overheard two little girls at the park say they didn’t want to play with a “girl-boy.” Then, there was the time a saleswoman at a second-hand shop refused to sell him a pink feather boa. “Surely you won't buy it for him — he's a boy!” said the woman. Shocked, and not wanting to upset Jazz, Witterick left the store.
Parents talk about the moment they realize they would throw themselves in front of a speeding truck to save their child from harm, yet battle the instinct to overprotect. They want to encourage independence. They hope people won’t be mean. They pray they aren’t bullied. No parent would ever wish that for their child.
On a night after she watched her husband of 11 years and the boys play with sparklers after dark, Witterick, in a reflective mood, writes to say we are all mocked at some point for the way we look, the way we dress and the way we think.
“When faced with inevitable judgment by others, which child stands tall (and sticks up for others) — the one facing teasing despite desperately trying to fit in, or the one with a strong sense of self and at least two 'go-to' adults who love them unconditionally? Well, I guess you know which one we choose.”
Diane Ehrensaft is a California-based psychologist and mother of Jesse, a “girlyboy” who turned his trucks into cradles and preferred porcelain dolls over soldiers when he was a child. Her newly published book, Gender Born, Gender Made, is a guide for parents of nonconforming kids.
She believes parents should support gender-creative children, which includes the transgendered, who feel born in the wrong bodies, and gender hybrids, who feel they are part girl and part boy. Then there are gender “smoothies,” who have a blended sense of gender that is purely “them.”
Ehrensaft believes there is something innate about gender, and points to the ’70s, when parents experimented by giving dolls to boys and trucks to girls.
“It only worked up to a certain extent. Some girls never played with the trucks, some boys weren’t interested in ballet ... It was a humbling experiment for us because we learned we don’t have the control that we thought we did.”
But she worries by not divulging Storm’s sex, the parents are denying the child a way to position himself or herself in a world where you are either male, female or in between. In effect they have created another category: Other than other. And that could marginalize the child.
“I believe that it puts restrictions on this particular baby so that in this culture this baby will be a singular person who is not being given an opportunity to find their true gender self, based on also what’s inside them.”
Ehrensaft gets the “What the heck?!” reaction people may have when they hear about Storm. “I think it probably makes people feel played with to have that information withheld from them.”
While she accepts and supports Jazz’s freedom “to be who he is,” she’s concerned about asking two small boys to keep a secret about the baby of the family. “For very young children, just in their brains, they’re not ready to do the kind of sophisticated discernment we do about when a secret is necessary.”
Jazz says it’s not difficult. He usually just calls the baby Storm.
Dr. Ken Zucker, considered a world expert on gender identity and head of the gender identity service for children at Toronto’s Centre for Addiction and Mental Health, calls this a “social experiment of nurture.” The broader question, he says, is how much influence parents have on their kids. If Ehrensaft leans toward nature, Zucker puts more emphasis on nurture. Even when parents don’t make a choice, that’s still a choice, and one that can impact the children.
When asked what psychological harm, if any, could come from keeping the sex of a child secret, Zucker said: “One will find out.”
The couple plan to keep Storm’s sex a secret as long as Storm, Kio and Jazz are comfortable with it. In the meantime, philosophy and reality continue to collide.
Out with the kids all day, Witterick doesn’t have the time or the will to hide in a closet every time she changes Storm’s diaper. “If (people) want to peek, that’s their journey,” she says.
There are questions about which bathroom Storm will use, but that is a couple of years off. Then there is the “tyranny of pronouns,” as they call it. They considered referring to Storm as “Z”. Witterick now calls the baby she, imagining the “s” in brackets.
For the moment, it feels right.
“Everyone keeps asking us, ‘When will this end?’” says Witterick. “And we always turn the question back. Yeah, when will this end? When will we live in a world where people can make choices to be whoever they are?”
What do you think?

May 18, 2011


I am part of a couple of mommy groups where we schedule various activities like walks, play dates, etc. that way we can get out of the house and socialise with other people other than our babies! It's been great so far and I've made some amazing friends already.

This evening, one of the mummies hosted us at her house for a meditation session. One of the other mummies provided a CD and after a bit of stretching, it began. Well, well, well, I don't know if I am made for meditation. I know everyone said that the first few times getting the clutter out of your mind to concentrate on yourself is hard work. I have to say, my clutter was screaming! The CD playing had a very soothing lady's voice talking about some really nice things, but I just couldn't concentrate even though I really wanted to. I remember snippets of what this voice was saying, in what I think was a bit of an Australian accent. She told me that I am a dancing spirit and something about my feet gliding across something, I'm guessing the dance floor of life maybe? One of the last pieces we listened talked about love and letting go and really letting love in and concentrating on it, but I couldn't focus on it enough and don't really remember what she said. I do know that in the moment, I was thinking, that is so true, I need to do that, I need to make a bigger effort on loving. Hopefully, we'll get to do this on a weekly basis and over time I hope to be able to do a better job on taking in the messages and focusing on that 'me' time. 

The only other thing was that I can't sit on the floor cross legged for that long. My feet kept falling asleep, so I had to keep changing positions. Some of the other ladies were sitting there, completely still while I fidgeted non-stop. Oh well, what can you do?

I'd like to keep working on this element and maybe we'll be able to throw in some yoga into the mix. A few years ago I did some reading on the 7 chakras and breathing correctly, so I'm thinking of resurrecting some of that and doing some more reading on that topic.

Do you have any experience with meditation? Do you enjoy it? Any tips?

Hello again

Wow,  I've been a bad girl and have not written in such a long time.
There just doesn't seem to be enough time, even though I really want to.

So much has happened. X-man has grown so much. He's cruising along the furniture, he stands on his own all the time, especially when he's holding a toy in his hand, he dances to music and his little bum bounces up and down (just adorable), he can feed himself when he's in the mood, yesterday he started to sleep using a pillow, it's just the never ending world of new things. I love it! It is so entertaining.

Meanwhile, we took a holiday to Dublin to visit a family member and tour the city and it was beautiful. We got to get out of the city and see a lot of greenery and nature and the it was just what I expected.

Aren't they adorable? There were so many hopping around.

Then we went to London for the Royal Wedding. We spent the day in Hyde Park soaking up the atmosphere. It was amazing! Everybody was having such a good time. There were people dressed up in wedding gear, representing the UK flag, the English flag and all kinds of other outfits. We came prepared! Although we didn't dress up, we dressed up X-man (as usual, we take every opportunity we can to dress him up!). He wore his Opa's black bow tie, a navy fitted jacket, black and white checkered skinny pants and a crisp white shirt.

Watching the wedding on the big screens, surrounded by all those people who were all so happy, was a great feeling. The atmosphere was just so positive. And there were so many portapotties that there was no line-up to go pee! How good can it get? I'm glad we decided to make it a point to "go to the wedding".
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