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How I deal with the winter blues

Jan 162011

Getting dressed on the weekends really makes a difference to my mood.

Even if I’m only going from my pajamas to my grubbies – the clothes I wear when I don’t have to go anywhere fancier than Walmart. The act of putting on clean, presentable clothes including fresh undergarments makes such a difference to my outlook on my day.

Maybe it’s the fact that there is sunshine streaming through my windows after weeks of dark days, or that I’ve caught up with the dishes, or that I’ve started reading another book (Room by Emma Donoghue). But after several weeks of feeling dark, dreary and (dare I say) depressed, my mood is a little perkier today. Everything feels a little more manageable and small setbacks don’t make me want to take to my bed.

Naturally, as I was writing this, I interrupted myself to look at SAD lights. I don’t personally know of anyone who has used one but I’m very intrigued by them. I’ve never heard anyone say that light therapy is a sham. I also know that I’m cheerier when the sun is shining, so a light may be worth investing in.

Have you used a SAD lamp? Does it help? Which one do you use? Any comments with advice or recommendations are welcome.

In the meantime, I’ll continue to get dressed seven days a week.

My final #reverb10 entry

irritants, life, thinking, web, writing No Responses »

Jan 032011

I’ve given up on #reverb10. It was bad enough that I was 12 entries behind when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve, but staring at all the unread prompt emails in my inbox (most had been read at least once, but marked back to unread so I wouldn’t forget about them) was just too overwhelming.

I can give you a million excuses: we’ve all been sick, the prompts took more thought that I had time for, we were too busy, Christmas, traveling, but ultimately it adds up to “blah blah blah, I couldn’t hack it”.

Staring at all the unfinished prompts was making me not want to write at all. I know I feel better when I’m writing so something had to give. Archiving those undone prompts was a relief.

It was a good exercise and I’m glad I tried it. I’m not sure if I’ll take part in this sort of meme again though. Producing this much content is hard when it’s something I do in my limited spare time. Especially when it involves such heavy soul searching.

It did get me writing and thinking so I’m grateful for that.

Here’s to more thoughtful writing in 2011, even if it’s not prompted.

Stinky stories for you to enjoy

adventures, family, flora, funny, irritants, life, sean, silly 2 Responses »

Oct 232010

The title of this post sounds like a fart joke waiting to happen. As much as I love a good fart joke (and I do – I live in a “most farts are funny” house), that is not the story I want to tell today.

The first stinky story began on Wednesday night when I picked Flora up from daycare. Sean normally picks her up on his drive home from work, but he had to work late so it was on me to go get her. When I pick up Flora, I usually go by bus because we only have one vehicle and Sean and I work in opposite ends of town. Flora gets to have an adventure on a not-too-busy bus (a 5-10 minute ride) and we have walk or (if it’s a planned pickup) stroller ride home. Takes a little longer, but not a big deal since we’re coming home for the evening, not starting the day.

Pickup went as normal. I had a nice chat with my childcare provider and Flora and I headed off to the bus stop. She hadn’t finished one of her sippy cups of milk so I put it in my purse. We had a uneventful bus ride (Flora talked all the way home about the bus) and a meandering walk home, as toddlers like to do.

About halfway through our trip, I thought my leg was getting wet. Stink lines weren’t waving around Flora so I opted not to worry about it. Once we got into the house, I discovered that it wasn’t an off-kilter diaper that got me wet. It was the sippy cup in my purse. It had leaked and dripped down to the bottom corner and was hitting my leg. I quickly emptied my purse and gave the lining a quick rinse and left it dripping in the kitchen sink. Later that evening, I took my purse upstairs and sprayed the lining with vinegar and sprinkled baking soda on it and left it out to dry overnight. I worried that the milk had gotten in between the lining and the purse itself which would be difficult to clean and would cause my purse to get funky in a non-fashionable way.

The next morning I checked and the purse seemed dry and funk-free enough to try wearing it again. I put my stuff back in it and treated everything as normal.

Fast forward to Friday morning.

All three of us get into the car to start the day (Sean drops me off near the subway). Before we get going, I smell a stink.

“Did Flora soil herself?” I ask Sean.

“I don’t know. Flora did you poop?” said Sean.

“No Daddy”, replied Flora. I wasn’t so sure I trusted her answer as she sometimes fudges the truth when she fudges her Huggies.

Again, I opted not to worry about it and we carried on with our day.

Once I was at work, Sean called me to tell me that he checked the car and couldn’t figure out the source of the stink. He even checked the engine thinking an animal had shit in it. He had also wondered in the car if someone had put poop in our gas tank. (That was a little too WTF for me but I suppose stranger things have happened.)

A little later, Sean and I have the following email exchange:

From: Sean
Sent: October 22, 2010 10:02 AM
To: Melissa
Subject: Mystery Solved

I stepped in Dog shit and it was copious.. Tried to get most of it off in the bathroom..fuckin dog

From: Melissa
Sent: October 22, 2010 10:06 AM
To: Sean
Subject: RE: Mystery Solved

I’m sorry, but I did laugh at this email. Hope you got it off. Did it hit your pants?

Much more sensible than someone putting poop in our gas tank.

Now we know why we need to pick it up right away. (ed. note: the night before, Sean had taken the dog out, but hadn’t cleaned up the mess, saying he’d catch it tomorrow. He certainly did!)

From: Sean
Sent: October 22, 2010 10:07 AM
To: Melissa
Subject: RE: Mystery Solved

I still smell the poop..I might have to buy new shoes at lunch

From: Melissa
Sent: October 22, 2010 10:09 AM
To: Sean
Subject: RE: Mystery Solved

You’ll probably keep smelling it long after the shoes are gone. Does anyone else notice it?

From: Sean
Sent: October 22, 2010 10:10 AM
To: Melissa
Subject: RE: Mystery Solved

I am not sure..Thinking about it I will now have to clean the brake and gas pedals and possibly replace the floor mat in the car

From: Melissa
Sent: Fri 22/10/2010 10:13 AM
To: Sean
Subject: RE: Mystery Solved

You’ll want to wear the old shoes when driving home if the pedals are poopy. Then you don’t soil the new shoes.

I ended up with a severe case of the giggles as the emails went back and forth. I was relieved to have the mystery solved though.

However, due to all the talk about it, I started noticing more stink myself. I worried that the poop had somehow jumped from Sean’s shoes to mine and I checked my soles for it. Nothing there. I chalked it up to psychosomatic phantom smells and left it alone.

Come lunch time, I discovered that there were no phantom smells. That stink was real.

I had opened my drawer to get my purse so I could go and get my lunch. The stink that came out of there was wild. Turns out the milk from Wednesday had stuck and around and funked up my purse just as I had feared. So I had probably brought my own stink into the car as well. I couldn’t blame it all on Sean (or the dog for that matter).

My coworkers got a big laugh when I told them the short version of this story. They tell me that they hadn’t noticed the stink so either they’re too nice or my desk drawer had contained it perfectly to my cubicle.

I’ve been purse hunting ever since. This was one time I did not want to go on a purse bender because I actually really liked this purse (when it’s funk-free) and I wanted to be sure I’d find something similar in style (and price). I must be getting low on patience because I decided to try out a cute little bag I saw on Etsy. Buying online makes me nervous because you can’t feel it out to make sure it’s the one for you. I’m choosing to be optimistic.

I’m also choosing to store Flora sippy cups in her bag from now on.

Sean chose to pick up new shoes, which he really needed anyway.

Nothing like a little stink to keep things moving forward.

Lazy Sunday

family, feminism, flora, funny, irritants, life, sean, thinking No Responses »

Sep 192010

Why is it that when I manage to do the following:

sort and wash my laundry
start Sean’s laundry
change the sheets and put the heavy duvet on my bed (stuffing a duvet into the cover is hard, dude)
wash my delicates
take the kid for her first real haircut (separate post about that coming) and pick up some socks and a toothbrush for her while at the store. Survive the store without using a cart or a stroller and we walked around and waiting in a slow-moving line
talk to my mom and sister on Skype (one conversation each) to show off said haircut
prepare three meals for said kid, and one for my husband (to be fair, Sean made the hard part of Flora’s supper for his lunch – he made chicken wings – but I still did all the warming/cutting as well as preparing the side dishes for supper)
wash dishes (once already, and a second time after I finish my own dinner)
run the dishwasher (I may or may not empty it)

it still feels like I haven’t accomplished anything today?

What is the killer chore that takes your day from unaccomplished layabout to kickass homemaker in one easy step? I’d do that chore if it meant I felt like I did something with my day.

Birthdays, beauty marks and being bummed out

family, flora, irritants, life, motherhood, thinking No Responses »

Aug 312010

Today is my birthday. I am 32 years old.

I’ve always been a birthday person, but over the last few years, I’ve found it harder and harder to celebrate it. I don’t have issues with my age – I’ve always said that getting older will force people to take me seriously. Since my birthday falls at the end of August, it always feels like celebrating my birthday goes hand in hand with mourning the end of summer. I always get bummed out a few weeks before my birthday, knowing that the end of summer is imminent and my birthday and then Labour Day weekend will put the final nails in the coffin. Once fall starts to really kick in, my bummed-out feelings start to fade and I start to enjoy the warmer clothes and cooler days and everything continues on as usual.

Working on my birthday doesn’t help these bummed-out feelings. Being a summer baby, I didn’t go to school on my birthday until I was in my last year at college. Once I started working, I booked my birthday off as often as I could. I stopped that for the last few years due to enforced vacation time at the beginning of August when my office closes for a week. I didn’t want to blow two thirds of my allotted vacation time in one month.

So I started working on my birthday. And my birthday, and all the special things I’d like to do that day just felt like another bunch of items to complete on the to-do list. Nothing special, just obligatory. Now that Flora’s birthday is four days after mine, my birthday should rightfully take second place to hers. At two, she’s not birthday-crazy yet, but at four, or seven, or eleven, she will be. My birthday stuff shouldn’t eclipse hers. I’m okay with that but I still want my day to be at least a little special.

I’m hoping I’ll be able to sneak out and get a pedicure during lunch, but I’m playing that by ear. If I can, great. If I can’t, no big deal. I want to spend time with Sean and Flora, but I also want some time to myself. I wanted that before I became a parent, and I still want it now. I like to wander around, pretend I’m a woman about town. Do some shopping (window or real). Do some spa-type stuff. Read a good novel. Write something interesting about it all. It’s hard to fit all that in after a full work day and being a contributing member to my family.

I don’t want cake because every time we buy a cake for me, Sean and I eat a slice or two and the rest gets chucked after weeks in the fridge. I bought some mini cupcakes that will satisfy the need for birthday cake, and any leftovers can be brought out at Flora’s party without it looking strange.

You’re probably reading this and wondering “why was she babbling about beauty marks in the title of this post?” I’ll tell you that now.

I have two moles on my face. One near my right eye and one under my chin. I’ve had them forever and they don’t bother me – they’re just part of my face. I never thought about them much until Flora started pointing them out to me asking what they were then saying “Amole.” (She says it as if it was one word.) “Mummy’s mole. Flora’s mole.” (Everything mine is hers, even if they’re attached to my face.)

Last week, I was getting ready for bed and was surveying my face for zits. (I must still be young; I look for zits and not wrinkles.) Then I noticed something unusual about my moles.

They have hair growing out of them.

Eww. Eww. Fucking EWW!

They’re not big gross long dark hairs, but I never thought I’d be one of those ladies with the big hairy moles on their face. For all I know, those hairs have grown there forever and I’m only just noticing them now.

Only now that I’ve noticed them, I can’t unnotice it. I wonder if I could (or should) be getting them removed? How much would it cost (since it would likely be cosmetic). Is the potential scarring worth it in two places on my face? What if the doctor poked my eye by accident?

I’m sure I’ll be mostly over this by the time fall rolls around. I may bring it up with my doctor when I have my next physical. But until then, those moles are the symbol of my fading youth and my impending middle age. I never thought I’d be that grumpy about fading youth and impending middle age but those mole hairs really grossed me out.

So yeah, it’s my birthday. Hopefully it’s a good one. The moles will get mad if it isn’t.

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