I’ll take what’s behind door #1 please!

Two years ago at a routine checkup, just before my 39th birthday,  my Dr. said to me:  Do you plan on having kids?

Me: Yes.

Dr: Well, your almost 40, it will be deemed a high-risk pregnancy and I suggest you start trying sooner than later

Like fuck guy, come on!  I’m saving up for botox and caribbean vacations and you wanna drop this bomb on me??

Babes and I had been together 4 years at that point, we had a house and 2 dogs (like the best fucking dogs ever, not just any 2 shitty dogs). We were living like 18 year olds, but we had salaries – woot woot; life was good! We partied, we vegged out, we travelled.  Kids were something we talked about in passing, but there were no ‘plans’.  Everything would just fall into place eventually. My Dr. wasn’t gonna scare me with his bullying.  I had lots of time and my body felt the exact same way it always had: unathletic, but functioning.  I had this.

Fast forward 6 months:  Babes and I get in a BIG fight.  Like huge.  Like I’m packing my shit, no wait, your packing your shit – and getting the fuck out. Don’t even think about taking the mother fucking dogs shit head.

Fast forward another 24 hours: So many sorry’s. Let’s make cinnamon buns and watch a movie.

Don’t get me wrong, this fight was a doozy, but it changed our course.  We were forced to focus ask ourselves ‘what the fuck are we doing??’   Were we in this, or were we IN this!?

Apparently we were IN this!  No more slacking and I was now in charge of this circus tour!  First stop, parenthood.  If you can’t tame em, you trap em!  Am I right girls!???  Girls?? Anyway – I can see how this may look like we were rushing into parenthood just to smooth the tides – we probably were.  But fuck it.  Our babies were gonna be sooo cute!  And time was running out.  But most importantly, either one of us could have left, but we chose to stay.

I thought if you had unprotected sex ONCE you’d get preggers.  Hahaha.  Teens – if you’re reading this it’s not true – bone on!

It’s been 19 months since fight day.  I could tell you exactly how many times we’ve had sex in that time cause I have an app.  There have been ultrasounds, blood work, more blood work, more ultrasounds, sonos, fertility drugs, temperature taking, IUI’s, and so many fucking appointments (naturopaths, gynocologists, fertility clinics, osteopaths etc)  I have googled the FUCK out of everything.  I even bought fertility crystals.  Barf.  I was desperate.  Barf Barf.  Seriously though, how the fuck did the IUI not work?  There were eggs, the freeway was wide open and there were so. many. sperm. Then again though, why would I expect my 40 yr old eggs be in any better shape than the rest of me?  Ces’t la vie.

And here we are.  Still no baby and I wouldn’t change a thing. Some days we are on the fence about even having kids at all. Because vacations, and freedom,  and treats and naps all day on the couch!!  We talk and dream and plan and are closer than ever.

There have been many things I wanted in life and didn’t get.  Like jobs, opportunities, men etc.  I didn’t understand: why couldn’t I have it?  why not me? why wasn’t I good enough? why was I being rejected?  With time, I’ve realized the universe will give you yours when the time is right.  It’s the fucking best, and the worst. Most of the things I can remember wanting so badly in life are downright laughable now and I thank the universe for not listening.  Oh my god, where would I be now had I got what I thought I wanted!!??  Working the same job for the last 20 years, married to a lazy, lifeless guy who hasn’t dreamed a day in his life? Hypothetically of course;)

Turning 40 may have come with tired eggs, but it also came with faith:  ‘complete trust or confidence in someone or something’

Bring it universe.  Whatever it is, bring it. I’m ready.  When you are of course.



Going Semi-Pro

Four weeks ago I thought ‘going’ vegan was a lot like Crossfit – you only did it to post about it on social media.  Otherwise, what’s the point??  You did it to be part of a ‘team’, find ‘your people’ and then show everyone how well your fitting in.  Congrats Tommy – look at you – you used to eat glue off your fingers in grade 5, but now, jesus, 300#, amazing bud?   No one on the outside really cares – in fact they want you to shut the fuck up already, but the people on the inside, oh my god, dems your peoples!

Simmer down crossfitters – I’m joking.  Kind of.  You know damn well it’s the hype that get’s people in the door in the 1st place and keeps them coming back for more at a cool pop of $150 month.  I’ve been there – I’ve drank the kool-aid.  It’s fantastic. So is cake though.  And I can buy a lot of fucking cake with that extra $150/month in my pocket. (Side note: currently seeking Crossfit sponsorship/endorsement)

So – going vegan.  3ish weeks ago I watched ‘What the Health’.  Two hours later you could find me sitting on the couch crying about our little piggy friends and the silly cows.  I didn’t picture mass production/killings. And I certainly didn’t picture animals scared out of their fucking minds knowingly headed to their death.  I never thought about manufacturers/farmers having to find ways to keep up with demand; I assumed we were only eating what naturally existed.  I thought Piggy Piglet, Stanley the Cow and Charlie the Chicken were out playing soccer in the field and running through the splash pad, catching tans and eating popsicles all day.  No idea what happened after that.  Next thing you know it’s on my plate covered in breading,  marinara sauce and melted cheese – I didn’t do it – I can’t help it!  I thought we NEEDED meat and dairy; that they were the backbone of any solid nutritional plan and without them we’d grow tired, weak and basically end up sick and dying of deficiencies.  And to top off sick and dying, we’d be doing it eating fucking salads??  No thanks.  Would you like a milkshake with that burger?  Yes please.   Well guess what!?  It’s not fucking true.  But it is what the meat and dairy farmers want us to believe.  Fucking marketing.  It’s not all bubblegum and dildos apparently.

Anyway – do I now call myself a vegan?   No.  Did I call myself a ‘Crossfitter’ when I was doing Crossfit? No.  I have a bike and sometimes ride it.  Does that make me a cyclist?  No – it makes me a person who has a bike.  I’m also a huge bitch sometimes.  Does that make me a…nevermind, you get it.  I’m not sure how long you have to do something before you’re ‘one of them now’.  And besides, who’s to say I won’t eat a burger again one day?  I could find myself fucking starving and it’s burger city compadres!  Or maybe I won’t be starving after all.  My choice.  But if I call myself a vegan I can’t eat the burger; not in front of anyone anyway.  I like to have options.  And what about my pre-What the Health leather purchases.  Am I supposed to throw that shit out!?? No – I will not cry over spilled milk.  Or should I say blood.

Oh, and by the way you horrible flesh eating humans, it’s not all salads.  Sometimes there are beans.



Bits and Bytes

The other day at work a co-worker asked me ‘What do you know about blogs?  How do I start one?’  Well I’ll be damned – I don’t know Shirley* – sheesh – do I look like a goddamn wizard??  It’s not like I’m the Communications person around here!  Oh wait.  But really – I know crap all about blogs – I know people post a shit-ton of recipes to them (hello Pinterest!) but what else did I know?  Nada.  So here I am.  After 3 days of doing fuck all since Shirley* mentioned the big ‘B’ except feel sorry for myself for knowing fuck all about blogs, and an intense 10 minutes thinking about what I’d name my blog,  I created this work of art.  Even downloaded the super amazing and crisp stock photo of the squirrels eating apples on my cover page.  Not sure how long till the cheques start arriving but pretty sure that’s how it works.  But seriously – I’m 40 – I do not feel the least bit concerned that I know nothing about blogs.  When I was in high school I spent my time scrounging for quarters to buy warm chocolate chip cookies from the cafeteria and learned how to type on a TYPEWRITER!  We got our 1st home computer in the early 90’s and it came with the ‘Encarta Encylopedia’ discs and oh. my. god. we thought we died and landed on the moon!  We were like, look out world, this family’s gonna get shit done!  (We didn’t get any shit done by the way).

So creating the site was easy peasy enough, but how will I keep the masses coming back for more??  Will I write about…

  • My 25 lb recent weight gain  and my quest to lose it?  No, besides, there’s no quest to lose it – that was a lie.
  • My knack for getting guys to purpose? (I’m at 3!  Suck it single ladies!) No, I’m saving that shit for the novel!
  • How about my quest to make the world a better place with my newfound passion for veganism and zero-waste?  It’s been a whole 80% committed two weeks, so, maybe…
  • My fiance and our two super fucking gorgeous dogs and our ongoing quest to make a god damn baby already??  Probably.
  • A whole shit ton of stuff that may or may not include any of the above despite my predictions, with most likely a few Pearl Jam references sprinkled in?  Fuck yes!

So stay tuned.  I figure this site just cost me $75 for the year so if I post at least 10 blogs that’s like $7.50/blog.  What a steal!  Only 9 more to go!

*names have been changed to protect the innocent