Category Archives: Illnesses

A Fabulous New Weight Loss Plan!

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I have a fabulous plan for all of you who wish to lose a couple of pounds as per your New Year’s Resolutions.  First, come and hang out with me while I cough and hack away and – presumably – pass this very weird virus on to you.  Next, wait until the virus settles into your sinuses and causes you to wonder if there is something else going on and if perhaps you should go see your doctor, because even your teeth hurt.  Then, realize that you have no appetite and all food tastes like nothing to you.  Have you ever eaten guacamole and not be able to taste it?  Tasteless guacamole is just really weird.  Your pants will be looser in no time at all!  New Year’s Resolutions fulfilled. 

I’m so dull, and I’m not sure if it’s just my personality taking a turn for the grim, or if it’s the constant headache, or if I’ve just always been so dull and have never noticed.  But hoo boy, I feel boring!  At least I’m not complaining about the weather.  Of course, it has been abnormally and remarkably warm here – it’s like March or April, rather than January – and the snow is almost completely melted.  My neighbour’s sexy snowwoman is nothing more than a stub of snow in the middle of his brown front lawn.  This feels symbolic in some way that I just can’t put my finger on (see also: my dullness). 

Something exciting did happen this weekend, though.  I was at the hair salon, and my hair therapist had just finished telling me this long and detailed story about the firing of her male colleague, and that very same colleague came through the door and started working!  It was as if he didn’t realize that he had not been fired.  Tensions came to a head when I was sitting at the sinks and he attempted to rinse out my colour.  Drama!  Drama at the hair salon!  Sadly, it wasn’t so dramatic as to be entertaining, just dramatic enough to be kind of awkward and also passive-aggressive, in a hair stylist sort of way.  Upon recounting this tale, I realize that this was less of an exciting event  and more of a minor diversion from the usual People magazine epiphanies that happen at the hair salon. 

I guess my personality really is taking a turn for the grim.  It doesn’t help that the house is silent – absolutely silent – since the boys went back to school today.  The only sound is the ringing/roaring in my ears.  That, and the dog constantly going to the door, but when I go to let him out, he turns and runs back to his doggie bed.  What the hell, Barkley?  I have a feeling the silence is affecting him too.

Inspiring!

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This weird little Christmas holiday virus seems to be the gift that keeps on giving – every day it’s a new and different symptom, and although I am feeling better – i.e., functional – I am far from being my usual energetic and healthy self.  For example, my cough is now almost all gone but my sinuses seem to want to kill me softly, with their extreme pressure of a song.  It’s enough to make a person pull out the neti pot, and I do not make that move lightly.

Back when my cough was the symptom of the day, I was taking Halls’ cough drops when I noticed something on the individually wrapped candies.  I looked closely: on each wrapper was written “Nothing you can’t handle” and “Don’t waste a precious minute”.  Inspirational quotes on my cough drops.  This seems like the thin edge of the wedge.

Is it me, or is the vast volume of inspirational quotes making them superfluous?  Everywhere you look, there are little nuggets of precious wisdom; from Lululemon bags to my favourite but very pretentiously named Yogi tea, from billboards for a “better Calgary” to the massive influx on my Facebook news feed.  It’s like, to paraphrase a modern quote, drinking from the firehose of motivational sayings.  Don’t even get me started on Jack Layton’s final letter to Canada: the first time I read it I felt somewhat uplifted; by the fortieth time I read that love was better than anger and optimism better than despair, I felt more irritated than inspired.

This is not to say that I am a cynical sourpuss – or if I am, that will surely change momentarily, given that it’s Friday and I’m planning to test the theory that red wine is medicinal.  When I was young, my grandma had “Desiderata” hanging on the wall of her home, in between framed embroidered pictures of flowers in baskets with such maxims as “Grandchildren are a gift from God” with all of our names surrounding it.  I would look at “Desiderata”, and even at a young age it spoke to me.  As I hit the bumpy road that is the young teenage years, I would remember “You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.” and I would feel peace.  Her “Desiderata” was the one thing I wanted from her possessions when she died; I had it reframed and it now hangs in my living room wall.  I look at it every day, and every time I read “With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world” I feel that it really IS a beautiful world.  Everything I believe in is written in “Deserata”.

So I suppose that is my inspirational quote, the one that inspires me.  Perhaps someone out there is being inspired by “Don’t waste a precious minute” on their cough drop wrapper; I suppose it’s possible.  Or perhaps we should treat the constant stream of motivational sayings the way we do fortunes in fortune cookies – with a “in bed” addendum on the end.  Like, “Nothing you can’t handle – IN BED”, or maybe “Do not do to others what you would not want done to yourself – IN BED”.  Or even – and this is a nod to all the hockey fans out there, I am a Canadian girl after all – “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take – IN BED.” 

Puss in Boots

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Yesterday I was awake for maybe six or seven hours in total.  The night before that Jake suddenly developed a fever…then I developed a fever…and then I developed the following symptoms: sore chest, sore throat, and narcolepsy.  The whole day was a blur of sleeping, eating cinnamon toast and freezies, and sleeping.  I showered at 4:00 only so I could put on a fresh pair of pyjamas.  I did not even put on makeup!  This is a testament to my sickness if ever there was one.

Today we’re all a bit better – Jake is still under the weather, but I heroically showered at 9:30 and put on yoga pants, so I’m one step up from a pyjama day.  I say this tentatively and nervously: I’m actually kind of enjoying our PJ days.  I say this because no one is really, horribly sick; no one is throwing up or dangerously ill or crying.  We’re just all sort of sick and pretty tired and we have no place to go and nothing to do and it’s kind of…nice. 

I’m sort of worried the universe is going to smite me for saying that out loud.  But it IS nice, snuggly days watching movies, reading books, and the boys playing with their new toys and their Wii.  A few more days like this may see me typing feverishly “All work and no play makes Nicole a dull girl” over and over, but for now, it’s nice.

Prior to my 18 hours of sleep day, I managed to pack away all the ornaments, disassemble the tree, and finish my cleaning binge.  We can now all sit comfortably at the table without moving our chairs around to allow people to get up from the table.  Win! 

I also went shopping.  This to me is somewhat heroic, facing the mall that I had been avoiding for more than a month.  We might all have a lot to say about Boxing Week sales, but they are a great time to stock up on things needed throughout the year.  For me, that means jeans for the boys.  I did some online Boxing Week shopping and managed to get a year’s supply of jeans for cheap, something that is desperately needed around here since my kids manage to completely wear out the knees in their jeans within a few weeks.  I should add that I am decidedly NOT a seamstress, and there are only so many pairs of cutoff jeans a child needs, and so we go through a lot of jeans. 

But other than online shopping, I did venture outdoors and went actual physical shopping.  My husband and I dropped the boys off at my mother’s and then went to the very quiet downtown mall.  My very favourite store had 50% off sales – black and charcoal sweaters! – and I also obtained a new pair of boots.  As soon as I have energy I will photograph them and post the picture.  THEY ARE HOT.  I showed my mom who said, immediately, “Oh!  You got hooker boots!”  Yes, Mom, I did!  They are saucy and tall and the salesman smiled at me and said “You’re Puss in Boots!”  Um.  That was a little awkward, but I think he meant it well.

I was so enamoured with my saucy Puss in Boots look that I even capitulated to the demands of fashion and bought – and I say this somewhat shamefully – half-price jeggings.  They are actually much, much more comfortable than I thought they would be, although nowhere near as comfortable as the pyjamas and yoga pants that are my wardrobe this week.  Maybe by New Year’s, I will feel well enough to actually wear them.  Then again, maybe I won’t.

Post-Christmas Cleaning Binge

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Did you have a good Christmas?  I’m relieved to tell you that Mark recovered enough to enjoy Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, although he was somewhat exhausted by yesterday evening – but then, shouldn’t we all be exhausted by then?  My mother mentioned yesterday that Mark is always sick at Christmas, which seemed incorrect to me, and indeed, upon checking my blog entries the last time anyone was sick at Christmas was 2008.  That seems like a fairly decent run to me.

But today we are all enjoying good health and also our Christmas gifts.  I caved this year on my “no video games” policy and the boys – all three of them – are currently playing Mario Kart Wii.  They are also threatening to get a fourth control so I can play with them, an attitude I am steadfastly discouraging.  So far they have yet to turn into slack jawed zombies, so I grudgingly admit the Wii is fine.  Also, I received a game, just for me, the Wii Jeopardy.  Now THAT is something I can get behind.

I also received this beauty:

A Pandora bracelet!  It’s perfect in every way.  I also received this pashmina scarf, which is so unbelievably soft I want to make out with it:

I haven’t yet.  But I want to.

Meanwhile, today I have broken all my normal rules and have not taken the Christmas tree down.  It’s not because I don’t want to.  I came home from yoga, faced with the clutter and boxes and general grunginess that indicates holiday living, and thought I could not face one more minute with the tree up.  The kids intervened passionately, and I have agreed to give it one more day.  I regret this decision immensely, and I find myself giving the tree what my children themselves refer to as the “furry eyebrow”.  Enjoy your time with us, tree.  You’re next.

If I couldn’t take down the tree, I certainly could deal with the holiday grunginess, which is exactly what I did.

That’s me, minus the blonde hair and kicky pink dress.  My children seemed a little alarmed at the zest with which I attacked the floors and bathroom.  My husband went out to run an errand and came back to find me scrubbing the floor tiles with vinegar water and a Sham-Wow, all the furniture moved around so as to clean behind it.  “Wow,” he said, backing away slowly.  “You’re really…cleaning.”  YES I AM.

Meanwhile, we have approximately one thousand chocolates in the house, which seems like a lot.  What’s better – freezing and savoring them over the next several months, or devouring them all just to destroy them?  Probably something in between, I suppose.  But given we still have Halloween candy in our house, something must be done.  Immediately.  Now pardon me while I go deal with a box of After Eights.

"And they’re hanging their stockings," he snarled with a sneer…

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Tomorrow is Christmas!  It’s practically here!

We made it through the entire first term of school with no days lost due to illness; despite classmates being knocked down with strep and colds and stomach flues, my kids remained healthy, with only a few minor days of sniffles.  I know someone who takes full responsibility for his child’s health; the lack of illness is due to superior parenting on his part.  However, I take my children’s health as a blessing – one that I supplement with lots of sleep, vitamins and good food, but a blessing nonetheless.  Then on Thursday – the last day of school – Mark mentioned he had a sore throat, but that there was no way he was missing the last day.

A chill of foreboding went through me.  Mark insisted he was well enough for school, and he certainly did seem to be, but this is also the child who insisted he was well enough for school when it was later revealed that he had pneumonia.  To say that I was a bit apprehensive would be an understatement.  And so I was not at all surprised when I picked them up from their shortened day to find that he had a low grade fever.  Jake complained that he was very tired.  We went home, I settled the kids on the couch with Despicable Me, and took Mark’s temperature every half hour or so.  He complained about this; when I told him about rectal thermometers though, he was relieved with the modern technology that is the ear thermometer.

Things got worse and his fever hit 103.  Now, I am of the school of thought that if a child has a virus – which is what I thought – then the best course of action is to stay home and rest with lots of fluids.  Mark was drinking a lot of fluids, and eating some freezies, and eventually the fever went down, hovering between 100 and 101.  He threw up in the night, which made me despair for everyone in the family.  Not Christmas barf!

Yesterday Mark seemed to rally a bit – Jake rallied entirely, spending the entire day dressing up in old Halloween costumes and making pretend spaceships out of fleece blankets – and we played Legos for a bit, before Mark lay back down on the couch.  He woke up from a nap, crying from pain in his throat, with a fever of 103, again.  Now I started to question things.  The doctor’s office was closed.  The only options were the gross petrie dish of a local walk-in clinic and the emergency room.  I tried to get his fever down with cool cloths and Tylenol, all the while googling worst case scenarios and photos of strep.  I peered down his throat with a headlamp, I fretted and took his temperature over and over.  I spent the entire day feeling anxious and a mixture of am I doing enough, or should I take him in?

Today, he’s much better – still a sore throat, still a lack of appetite, but no fever and with semi-normal energy levels.  It’s a Christmas miracle!  At least, hopefully it is and that no one else comes down with this.

So tonight I’m going to make homemade pizza and Caesar salads, after dinner we will watch Elf, put out cookies and milk – traditions must be maintained no matter what one feels about Santa – and then tuck the boys in.  We’re moving Jake’s bed into Mark’s room for a “sleepover”; and then we’ll fill stockings and drink wine.  It will be a perfect Christmas Eve.

And I wish for you, my dear readers, a most perfect Christmas Eve, however you may spend it.  Have yourself a merry little Christmas.  Let your heart be light.  xoxo

LIVE IN THE NOW, Oil of Oregano, Lots of Links

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I have a little something something up at the Yummy Mummy Club – and I would be so happy if you popped over there to read it.  If you were so inclined to leave a comment, I would be VERY happy.  xo

I wrote all about living in the moment and enjoying the present, which I think is a very important thing to do.  I also think of – get ready for a dated reference here, people – Wayne’s World.  Remember the scene when Wayne visits a guitar store and looks longingly and lustily at a very expensive guitar (“Excalibur”) and Garth freaks out: “Stop torturing yourself, man.  You’ll never afford it.  LIVE IN THE NOW!”

I also have a lovely recipe for gingersnaps up at my cooking blog. These are my husband’s favourites, and I baked a batch last week, despite the fact that I normally only bake these around Christmastime.  Yesterday, he went out to run errands and came home with an iPhone!  For me!  I highly recommend you bake these cookies.  You never know what could happen.  They are magic!

How was your weekend?  I had an amazingly productive one: hair was cut and coloured, Christmas shopping was nearly completed, much writing was done, photos were chosen for the annual calendar given to the grandparents, dinner with my girlfriends was consumed, Christmas lights were hung, a jack and impact gun were purchased and the snow tires put on the minivan.  Full disclosure: the Christmas lights and tire change were NOT done by me, obviously, but they are DONE.  Then, Sunday morning I woke up with a sore throat, headache, and general fatigue and lethargy that did not bode well for the busy week I have coming up – a week of running the school book fair. 

I jumped into action.  I took oil of oregano several times, which was extremely unpleasant and probably ranks in the top five worst tastes ever.  I drank Vitamin C drinks, I ate two giant slices of chocolate zucchini bread (file under “Feed a Cold”), I swallowed a few spoonfuls of honey, I took Tylenol Cold Nighttime Relief and went to bed at 8:45.  I woke up eleven hours later feeling, if not 100%, much, much better.  I feel like patenting this combination for my very own “nip it in the bud” prescription.  I have a feeling that the eleven hours of sleep probably counted for more than the other home remedy/ over the counter/ homeopathic antidotes, but I hope that the oil of oregano did something.  I would hate to think I took that horrible stuff to no purpose. 

And now I am off to set up the book fair.  I wonder if there will be much Justin Bieber paraphernalia, or will his possible thirty-seconds-of-action-leading-to-a-lifetime-of-paternity-allegedly indicate the demise of those “Future Mrs. Bieber” stickers?

It was a graveyard smash!

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It snowed today!  The little dusting is, I believe, positively correlated with the comment I made yesterday regarding the unbelievable fact that we had made it through September AND October with no snow.  But, dear readers, we had NOT made it through October, and so now we have snow.  It’s not much though and it is mostly melted, but I feel silly for having mentioned it. 

I also feel a bit silly for having thought – although not spoken aloud – that we have eluded illness quite successfully so far this school year.  Mark now has a very, very minor version of the sniffles which has the unfortunate yet usual side effect of THE COUGH.  This means that he is waking up to cough in the night, which gives me post-traumatic flashbacks to his bout with pneumonia and the subsequent months of nighttime coughing.  I gave him a shot of his steriod inhaler this morning and he responded by saying “Wow, my chest feels all crazy!” which led me down a spiral of worry.  But he seems fine.

He really was just fine until the morning after the Halloween Family Dance, which is, quite honestly, the highlight of his calendar year, right after Christmas.  And it was a fabulous time for all of us, although I’m happy that it’s all done.  I cleared my calendar last Thursday specifically to make these:

Ninety sugar cookies!  They are almost completely devoid of nutritional value, yet are a consistent crowd pleaser.  I was taking three dozen of them for the bake sale/ concession at the dance and was pleased to see that they sold out fairly quickly. 

Nothing sells like a choice of spooky shapes and lots of sprinkles.

The dance itself was so much fun, augmented by a flash mob performance from a local studio – teenage girls dressed as zombies, dancing to Thriller.  My kids were dressed in their finest spooky wear:

A vampire and Spider Monkey from Ben 10!  My husband and I are in the background, and we are also dressed up, although my neighbour did not realize it.  I walked over to the school early to help set up, and as I left the house with my makeup gun set to “whore” I fervently hoped I would not run into anyone I knew.  No sooner than I had thought that, my neighbour got out of his truck and started talking to me in a casual, awkward, elephant-in-the-room way.  I mentioned I was on my way to set up for the school Halloween Dance, and he said “Oh!  Halloween!  I thought you were just going out with some girlfriends!”  That was a little disheartening.

For the record, I do not look like this when I go out with my girlfriends.

Near the end of the dance, the DJ was inspired to play a number of “oldies” for the parents’ listening pleasure.  I was a little wary – after all, this was only days after the soul train – but the very last song was Don’t Stop Believing by Journey, which is pretty awesome, if you ask me.  I was belting out Hold on to that FEEEELLLLININNNNGGG for the next couple of days.

There was even – hold on to your hats! – much Grade Six Girl Drama, complete with mediation (“She’s upset because you said you didn’t want to dance?  But then she saw you dancing with Sophie?”) and crying in the bathroom.  A few years ago my niece was at a school dance and my sister-in-law asked her how many girls were crying in the bathroom and my niece was completely flabbergasted.  How did you know girls were crying in the bathroom?  Because girls have always and will always be crying in the bathroom at dances until the end of time.

There is something very comforting in that.  When my children are chaperoning their own children’s dances, and Party Rockers in the House Tonight is the golden oldie played for the parents, girls will still be huddled in a group in the bathroom, surrounding and comforting one of their sobbing compatriots.