Habits

I am a work in progress. Aren't we all? Whoever thinks she's done, is probably delusional or dead.

I'm very interested in self-improvement. This is largely because I have so many things to improve.

One of them is my habits. I've learned that what we do, everyday, is pretty much who we are. I have occasional glimpses of myself living my life and I stop and think, 'Is this my big plan? Am I living my ideal life?" Sometimes, when I think, "Yes," I feel a bit scared.

It's a terrifying thought that all your dreams may well have come true.

Reflect on that.

You're always dreaming of more - and that's good. But you've also got to appreciate the here and now. So I'm going to start a new habit.

I encourage you to join me and see what happens.

For the next month, at the end of each day, write down two things that you did that day that were good. Like, I picked up garbage on the street. Or I did not shout at anyone. (tee hee)

For the master class, add on five good things that other people did today.

I bet if we keep this up we'll be nirvana-ish by the end of May.

Go on. Try it!

Au Naturel

Being a fly on the wall in my house....

...is a pretty safe bet, because I don't swat. Unless it's 2am and you're buzzing and bothering me, then look out.

But being a fly on the wall in my house is often entertaining.

When our children were smaller, Husband would willingly bathe with them...until their curiosity peaked. Not having one of these curious appendages themselves, they were quite fascinated by the testicular region of their father. I didn't realize this until I saw him hop into the bath with them...wearing his bathing suit.

After I stopped laughing, I went on my big, "It's natural and let's model a self-acceptance and love of our bodies to our children" blah blah blah-osophy.

Until today.

"Mummy - why is your bum so jiggly?"

Naturalness be damned. I'm bathing alone.

A Conversation

ME: I really want to tell you something but it's fully within the realm of T.M.I.*

HUSBAND: It's about a bowel movement, isn't it?

ME: YES!

HUSBAND: I don't know which is more disturbing: the fact that you actually want to tell me this, or the fact that I knew what you would want to tell me.

ME: That is kind of weird.

HUSBAND: I don't want to know.

ME: Please?

HUSBAND: No.

ME: I poop four times a day.

HUSBAND: ............................

My mum always said a lady retains some mystery about herself. She also never liked my jokes about the Queen taking a shit.

Oops. But seriously, Mum - if you were newly on the vegan diet, you'd understand why I want to high five people after a trip to the loo.


*Too Much Information

Rockin' the Weird Shit

To most people I know, a vegan diet is hippy dippy at best - radically bizarre and cultish at worst. At work this week, someone asked what I was eating. When I told him, he said, "Wow, you're really rockin' the weird shit these days,"

That is totally fine with me and it makes me laugh. Because most of the stuff I eat these days - I'd never heard of just a few months ago. I like it when people ask because I'm totally proud of myself for

a) finding dulse
b) figuring out what the hell it is
c) eating it

What does bug me is the constant: How do you get your protein?

Please allow me to set the record straight here: protein is found in a lot more things than just animal products. Tofu, tempeh, seitan, beans and legumes - to name a few. Remember that a small, 400 pound gorilla doesn't eat hamburgers. He eats grass and possibly a few bugs by accident or out of curiosity. Since I'm guessing a gorilla could beat you in an arm-wrestling competition, animal protein isn't going to make you strong. Nor is it something that you have to have in order to be healthy. It's quite the opposite from my research.

Here's why I care about protein: When we get too much protein, as we often do in an animal-based diet, our liver and kidneys get pooped trying to eliminate it. Their super-power is detoxification, and when you're irritating an organ that is responsible for keeping you toxin-free, you're playing with fire. Since my personal experience of this is Respect Ye The Detoxing Organs Lest They Fuck You Up. And they can. Believe me.

Richard Dawkins: Brilliant Writer or Pretentious Git?

The major anti-Papal media frenzy requires us to remember that Reuters is still pretty much a game of Telephone.

If the Pope really is saying things as stupid as he's reported to have said, like that the allegations of covered-up child-abuse are petty gossip or that it's all the Jews' fault, then wow, he's fully insane. And all we can hope for is that a consistent round of medication will bring him back to reality. But there's always the chance that he didn't really say that. I'm just saying...it's possible.

Nevertheless, it's led a few people to incorrectly cite the High Priest of Fundamentalist Atheism, Richard Dawkins, as the rogue intent on arresting the Pope for crimes against humanity. Now that would be entertaining, wouldn't it? Dawkins claimed that he never said that so here again, we have the radical media machine of hyperbole and misinformation whose sole purpose is to cause people to spazz out.

Mission accomplished.

Richard Dawkins: he's a great writer. But he's also a pretentious git.

I'm tempted to call him a “militant atheist” but since he hasn't beheaded someone, or flown a plane into a building, that hardly applies. He's just a dude who is extremely opinionated about a very touchy subject. I wouldn't like to have tea with him because he seems like such a sourpuss and willingly having tea with a sourpuss is CRAZY. Likewise, I would like to have tea with the Pope so I can find out what he puts in it; is he naturally loopy or is someone slipping him regular doses of lithium? Watching that would be AWESOME. But being there while Richard Dawkins had tea with the Pope would be CRAZY AWESOME!

I read The God Delusion. Meh. Too scientific for me. Dawkins makes valid arguments but it didn't change my life. In fact I got a bit tired of his angry rhetoric. Not everyone who believes is going to go all jihad on your ass or sacrifice a goat. Maybe they're just going to go to church or pray. This doesn't make that person a moron. Prayer is the most ancient form of meditation and if you want to be scientific about it, it's probably really good for you (calms the mind and body unless you're praying for death and destruction - I'm assuming this applies for kind prayers).

I pray. I go to church. That doesn't make me a better person than you. It makes me a person who doesn't have as much time for breakfast on Sunday. There I've said it. I've been doing it for a long time. I've hid it from people for a long time because they subscribe to the mindset that "religious belief is the most pernicious form of self-deluding mental illness to inflict the human race."

Okay. I don't care.

I've always been somewhat religious. In university I had a real crisis of faith because I questioned everything. I went to talk to the priest at my church because I was agonized over it all. He smoothed my ruffled feathers by saying, "Faith is being okay without answers". It took me a long time to be "okay without answers". The turning point for me was my mother's death. I was there, and held her hand as she took her last breath. It was the holiest moment of my life. When her spirit left her body I knew that I didn't need answers. I just knew.

How superior of us to think that we are entitled to know and understand all the secrets of the universe?

Girly McGirlicuddy

This post is for girls who enjoy being girls. So here goes: I've discovered something and I have to share.

First of all is a simple thing: MAC's new nail polish in Vestral White. It's instant chicness and so different from what you would expect that it's refreshingly modern. It reminds me of when we used to paint our nails with Liquid Paper/White Out and it looked awful. This is better. Maybe it's because I love everything white, but nail polish too? That is awesome.

The second thing is this: a busted hairdryer is the best thing that ever happened to my hair. After a brief panic, I let it do its thing and then tried some hair oiling for good measure. Twisting it up while it air dries gives me smooth waves. And the lack of heat styling can only be good for the hair long term, so that when I do acquire a functioning blow-dryer, the hair will hopefully behave that much better. I may never use one now though...People keep telling me that my hair looks great. That, and the fact that it buys me an extra twenty minutes in bed in the morning is all I need to keep doing this.

The third thing is this blog. It's my personal source of inspiration. Shopping if so much more fun now because I can see how to pair this with that and a little of that and I've got myself a fantastic outfit. Mind you, I drool a little for her shoes and bags - they're often from Coach, which means, they cost roughly the same as a decent second-hand car. But still, she's got a great eye and points me toward things I'd never have considered before. LOVE that. The fashion evolution is on.

It's Time for Husband to Come Home

For those of you who know me well, you know that I enjoy all the benefits of a husband without an actual husband present. Okay, maybe not ALL the benefits. Yeah, those would be nice. As would someone else taking the garbage out. But still, I manage when he's in South America or Australia or Kyrgystan.

But really, the single parenting thing has me going to bed not long after the children actually do. And when it takes me an hour to get them into said bed, it's understandable. Especially after the swimming lessons that involved a three-year-old needing to pee twice during a 30 min lesson.

After the ninth reminder that LIGHTS ARE OFF, I become increasingly less gentle. I finally get them settled. It's quiet for 30 seconds, I let out a breath. Then...

"Mummy?"

Sigh.

"Yes?"

"I can't find my blue eraser!"

'WHY DO YOU NEED A BLUE ERASER!? YOU'RE IN BED, YOU'RE GOING TO SLEEP, WHAT COULD YOU POSSIBLY NEED TO ERASE!?"

"It's my phone."

I give up.

Eat it

After a year of feeling and being sick, the light has appeared!

Here is a list of what I'm no longer able to eat:

a=alcohol
b= beef
c = caffeine, citrus, cucumber
d = dairy (every. single. kind.)
e = eggs
g = garlic
j = junk food (if it's in a vending machine, I can't eat it)
n= nightshade vegetables
p= pork
s= sugar (including white bread, white rice, white pasta)

Yowzah. Last year I spent a lot of time in doctors' offices being told, "Just be smart about what you eat," but since I wasn't particularly, I suffered. I have probably financed a new wing of Church & Dwight and spent a good part of the year asleep.

Things didn't start to turn around until I finally saw a holistic nutritionist. I went in with all my "This is stupid - she's not a doctor" armour and walked out with Useful Information.

I went off dairy and life was infinitely better. Not believing it could really be a dairy allergy, I had some cheese. This was a Very Bad Idea. I'll spare you the details.

Another turn came this past February when I visited my amazing friends in Toronto. C took me to a restaurant called Fresh. She said, "You'll be able to eat everything here," and she was right. Moreover, I had a vegan cupcake there and I was okay! Better than okay - I was excited that there may be a workable food plan for me out there. C very sweetly bought me the cookbook from this vegan restaurant...

It all started with one cookbook. Now I have three. They are all vegan. I guess I'm vegan.

I'm not sure I am cool with the label thing. I'd like to say I'm going vegan because I feel for the poor little piggies, and I do, but bacon is freaking awesome. Come on. It IS!!! And ice cream? Well, that's practically therapy in a bowl right there.

But it's okay if I don't have a conscience because my G.I. tract is a pretentious jerk, a member of the radical wing of PETA, and is always asking if she can chain herself up and protest.

My goal is to keep her happy.

And that's how it all vegan.