Just A Little Off Kilter....

Have a great weekend!

During a recent conversation I had with a friend, we discussed how difficult it is to watch your friends and or family do things that are clearly bad for them because no matter how much advice you offer, it is seldom followed. It’s fair to say that we’ve all been through this. You see them going down a path that has you shaking your head the whole time, and no matter how many times you tell them what to do, your advice falls on deaf ears. I’ve done some unsavory things in my life and I can only imagine how my best friends and family felt about them. There have only been a few times when they've openly shared exactly how they felt about my actions. In fact, I find it important to note that for many things, they not passed harsh judgment on me. I feel we have an understanding that we’re all grown up enough to know the possible consequences of our actions. We know that we don’t need each other’s approval for anything we do, but what we will always need from each other is...uncondition

Learn To Love Your Inner Monster by Moonandlion via Etsy

I am a crier. I cry when I’m happy, moved, sad, frustrated, furious or in the midst of infertility treatments...this has caused a considerable and by considerable...I mean ridiculous, amount of crying.  I think I even cry when I am confused. Thus, it has become imperative that I find I solid hideout for my cries. I let the happy cries fly in public because it is pretty fun for others to watch me cry at cute kitten videos (I get really happy when I see kittens, okay?), but the serious crying? Well, I save that for my shower. The shower is a phenomenal place to cry. You can really go nuts there. It masks most noise (the acoustics make the dramatic cries fantastic though), it washes the day away (literally) and the whole running makeup business is taken care of. It also minimizes crying side effects. I’m pretty sure that the massage of the shower on your head diminishes crying headaches and a cool splash prevents too much eye puffiness. It’s generally a perfectly private place; I would

A view of the cliff from the boat Strong men...chop much wood I moustache you a question... A piece of bacon sporting a moustache...love these socks! Toasty fire = toasty toes Beautiful sunset More silly socks paired with silly leg warmers Adam is a good boat driver...but I am a great boat driver :P Paddington Bear also hearts Bon Echo I spotted this old barn on the way home and just had to stop to take a picture How was your weekend?

Have a great weekend!

When I see a bruised apple at the grocery store I give it a hug and whisper in it's ear... "Who did this to you?" via Mid Eats

Lately I have noticed that I've lost a few followers and that's cool...it really is...I realize that one can only listen to my ridiculous ranting for so long. I get it. No judging here. Poor Adam on the other hand...has to live with it every day so let's all feel bad for Adam...ahhhhh...hugs to Adam.  I know that lately I've not been blogging about infertility and treatment but...Yes, this blog it still about my life and our struggle for baby JaAdam. There just isn't a lot going on that is worthy of conversation. Every day I take my DHEA and vitamins. I'll repeat Day 3 blood work and Day 5 antral follicle count ultrasound with my next cycle but at the moment we are kind of in a holding pattern until I have surgery November 1st.  Infertility is still very much at the forefront and yes, I still think about it every single day but I've decided that it doesn't and isn't going to rule my life. It's not going to prevent me from seeing my friends th

Chocolate is not a snack. It is not a food to be taken lightly. It is a magical, sacred, refined particle of universal truth reflecting all that is good and right with the world. And so it should be treated. Sometimes I think about what life was like a few hundred years ago, when chocolate was not something you could pick up at the corner store in large quantities. This is also back before ice cream and penicillin were invented, and let’s face it, if anything could have made plague and corsets more bearable, it would have been chocolate. How did civilization even evolve? Come to think of it, the Mayans had discovered cocoa and look where they are (or aren’t) now. But I digress. A little while ago I stumbled upon a little chocolate shop. It was mesmerizing. It was beyond reality. It was where cocoa came to become a Broadway star. Display cases surrounded me, small glass raised plates extending painted little cubes of concentrated aromatic bliss. This was chocolate. This was how it wa

How was your weekend?

What are your plans for the weekend?

Lately I've been watching the last few episodes of Season 2 of "The Walking Dead" in preparation for Season 3 and it got me thinking…in the event of a Zombie apocalypse or any kind of apocalypse for that matter...maybe it’s not all bad. If I do somehow survive , it could be fun. Well, first you should know that I made the mistake of reading a series of apocalypse themed novels as an impressionable child. This, plus naturally being afraid of everything, has conditioned me into believing that at some point in my lifetime, a killer virus will absolutely positively spread and kill every one. But me. I will be forced to take in any orphaned children and we will live in an abandoned home where I will cook for them and teach them skills like gardening and tell them stories of magic things called "showers" which existed in the world before the killer virus which we shall refer to as "before time." We will throw our piling trash out in swimming pools and learn

Changing the toilet paper roll will not cause brain damage. I promise. I am going to post a step by step tutorial for all those that do not know how to change the roll (my co-workers...I blame the men) and when they do not change the roll, I will email it to them or maybe post it on their Facebook wall or perhaps even frame it and leave it on the bathroom wall. Then they will get it. Right? How to change a toilet paper roll in 4 easy steps... Step one You see you have used the last of the roll. There is another sitting close in the bathroom. Maybe in the cupboard, under the sink of in one of those handy roll holders like pictured below. Step 2 Remove the cardboard roll left from the old roll. This is EASY to do. You need to push the spring in sideways or if you are fancy you may have one that slides off easily. I promise you...this is not difficult.  I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you do not know the roll is empty and needs changing. After all it

I've often considered myself pretty good at dealing with hurt in life. I had high hopes for my ability to process and cope with the loss of R. This isn't so bad…I thought. I've got this. I now know that these thoughts were simply called numbness and they stood tall for about 12 seconds. Turns out, I’m really not so “good” at grieving. Because, news flash to me, it’s impossible to be. Grieving just is.  I don’t particularly find solace in the stages of grief  but even if I did, I truly didn’t think I would experience anger. I didn't relate when people said they were mad at God or life or themselves after they faced a tragedy. I guess because I accept that life is messy. But despite all this, anger did creep in somewhere. It’s the tricky kind that lurks below the surface and bubbles out with disguised roots – like lashing out at dirty dishes or overreacting to misspoken words from Adam or a friend. It's been almost three months since losing R and and a coupl

~ Because I am too tired and sick to think of anything  remotely  funny or interesting to amuse you with and because I really should be working or least make it look like I am whilst dreaming of a hot cup of tea and an afternoon nap. Friday night crazy socks... Sunday morning crazy socks... I have a thing for socks...I love crazy socks...the more loud & outrageous...the better...cause that's how I roll yo. ~  Actually I roll by squatting  on the floor, balancing on the balls of my feet, holding out my arms for balance as I lower down to the floor. I then touch the floor with both hands and begin to roll forward, tucking my chin into your chest. That's how I roll. Karen now likes crazy socks too Do not fret Karen...I have a friend of a friend that knows a guy that knows a girl that knows a guy that sells amaze-balls socks. I'll hook you up! I squish you! Squish Stormy windy lake The weekend might have been wet and stormy but my Dear

What do you have planned this weekend?

I have a confession to make. I recently molested a mannequin. I was at the mall yesterday on my lunch break to buy socks when I got a little distracted. By a dress. With sparkles and sequins and beads and all kinds of awesomeness. And I had t o try it on. But of course the only dress in my size was on the mannequin...one of those creepy looking headless, armless, legless ones with the hanger coming out of its neck. I felt all kinds of bad undressing her in public, but I was without a doubt going to rock that dress, so my actions were completely justified. I never made it to the dressing room, however, because after undressing Ms. Mannequin, I held it up to myself and it was way bigger than it looked on the mannequin, and did I mention it had sparkles and sequins and beading? Honestly, what was I thinking? I couldn't let her stand there all naked and exposed. That would be inappropriate. So then I had to re-dress the mannequin, which was way harder than undressing her. And much mor

I saw this. I want this. I need this. So sad...it appears that I cannot buy in Canada. Boo.

Ask a sleep researcher why we sleep, and s/he'll give you the simplest answer - which is sort of what scientists are all about -  because we get sleepy. Can't really argue with that. The next question is why do we get sleepy? There is a part of your brain called the suprachiasmatic nucleus (or SCN, for those of us who don't have time to pronounce that and/or have a stutter) that regulates your sleep schedule, and makes you get your sleepy on. I think mine is working a double shift today. It's noon, and I want to go to bed. Someone with a normal SCN has a routine sleep cycle: the same amount of sleep around the same time each day, but someone with an impaired SCN (or a lab mouse whose SCN was destroyed, say or me...stressed out, feeling unwell and trying to take care of a sick Adam and I use the word "trying" loosely) sleeps at random times for random durations. There is a great variety of sleep behaviors in the animal kingdom, but nearly all animals exhibit so