Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Germs have attacked!

The boys have done the unthinkable...

They let germs invade our house!!!

Of course they didn't get sick, just me... sigh.

The start of school is always an interesting time, questions abound, frustrated mothers pull their hair out.  My question was, just when would the first cold hit?

October 6th was the unlucky day.  Woke up with no voice, which is a special torture for a Mom that must wake 3 boys up for school... 3 boys that would rather keep sleeping... 3 boys that try to hide under blankets... 3 boys that must be told to eat breakfast... 3 boys that must be sent off to school on time!  Yes, that torture was especially special.

7 days later and I am finally on the mend, voice still rough, but at least energy has finally returned.

With that energy, a new mindset is found.

I am tired of being fat, tired of an aching body, tired of being tired.  So what is a gal to do in this situation?  MOVE!!!

I used my elliptical for 29 gruelling minutes... a wee bit pathetic considering 3 years ago I could run 7 km.  But I need to start somewhere!

I want to RUN.  I miss RUNNING.  I miss the feeling of JOY when I push my body a bit further every day.  Every step cleansing my thoughts.

So here I am, putting it out to the universe...


Saturday, September 26, 2015


It's time to talk about depression, anxiety and PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder).

I have suffered with depression and anxiety for over 4 years, and PTSD for 2 years.

When the depression first started to really affect my life, it was rather horrendous.  I can still vividly remember sitting in my bathroom crying for hours as my boys ran and played in the house.  The thoughts running through my head that day were, for lack of a better word, depressing.  I wondered if the boys wouldn't be better off without me, but at the same time (thankfully), I knew I could never do that to them.  They are my reason for getting up every single day.

Even though I survived that day, I started cutting myself off from everyone.  Slowly, but surely.  It was a few weeks later that I knew I couldn't dig myself out of the hole without help.  I was driving into the city, without my boys, when I almost had to pull over because of a severe anxiety attack.  My chest was so tight I couldn't take more than a shallow breath.  It felt like my world was closing in on me.  The urge to turn around and go hide in my house was persuasive. I did keep going, but felt anxious for the rest of the trip till I finally made it home.

The next day I was in talking to my Dr.  She started me on anti-depressant/anti-anxiety meds that day.  My Dr felt the combo drug was best as we didn't know whether I was anxious due to depression, or depressed because of anxiety.  Sort of like which came first, the chicken or the egg?!?

Some weeks later I started to feel more balanced, but it has never been quite the same.

Now for PTSD.  I have never been formerly diagnosed, but my symptoms are pretty much spot on for someone with it.  This unsurprisingly is from when P was going through chemotherapy for cancer. Those 7 months have completely redefined who I am.  During his treatment I was fairly stable, the only choice I had was to be strong for him.  I was his only caregiver during treatment.  Once treatment was over and he was back to being his normal little self, I had the time to fall apart... which I did spectacularly.

I would get the boys off to school in the morning, but then straight back to bed I would go.  I slept, cried, was numb, and just inaccessible.  That year I wasn't as there for my boys as I usually was, I had my own healing to do.  At inopportune times I would find myself flung back to those long days in the hospital, reliving the times I held my 7 year old son as he was in so much pain from the chemo.  Even typing this I am close to tears, and my chest and throat is tight from anxiety.  No mother should have to watch their child be on a morphine drip due to pain.  Sadly it was better to have him passed out from the drugs, then to hold him while he screamed in excruciating pain.

P is now 2 years out from treatment, and I am finally starting to feel my footing become solid again.  I am much more reclusive now, preferring to be home with my family, or someplace more remote.  Crowds drain me, and put a strain on my still tentative hold on sanity.  Many people don't fully understand just how much I have changed in the last 2.5 years, and how permanent it may be.  I miss being as carefree as I was before cancer was a part of my life, but I don't know how to be that person anymore.  Cancer is like a nightmare you can't wake up from.

All this is what I struggle with everyday, what makes getting up and changing my life so incredibly hard.  Change is hard and more frightening than it has ever been before.

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Herding Cats

Yes, you read that right!  Every morning it feels like I am herding cats... lots and lots of cats!

This is the second year that the boys are all in school full time, you would think they better understand what happens each and every morning.

Apparently NOT!

I spend my time between 6:45am and 8:00am pushing them to get up, get dressed, eat, pack lunch, clean up.  I ask them to stay quiet as Sir is still sleeping.

This is not something my boys seem to be able to do.

The worst this year is H.  Getting him out of bed takes 3 to 4 attempts, with me actually dragging him off the bed.  Of course the second I leave the room to deal with someone else, he curls back under his blanket.  It's frustrating, time consuming, and frustrating!

It's no wonder I'm already stressed when I get to work!

Monday, September 21, 2015

Harder than I remember...

Getting back into a healthier lifestyle is so much harder than I remember.  The worst is waking up in the morning... as it is I barely have time to get the boys up in time for breakfast before school starts.  Not sure quite how to fix that though.

I have been getting my house in better working order though, one area at a time.  When you leave things for too long, it's amazing how much crap can build up when you aren't looking.  The worst seems to be the dining room and boys room downstairs.  Not sure how P and H have accumulated so much stuff in their room!  At least they are willing to let me just sweep and garbage.

Boys are home, time to give them a hand with things.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Time to Start

Writing hasn't been easy the last few years, the words just don't want to flow.  Then again, a lot of what I want to say isn't easy.  This is the hardest...

My Bug had stage 4 Burkitts Lymphoma.

He's 2 years out from treatment now, and doing exceptionally well.  Certainly doesn't mean I don't worry about so many different things with him though.

Now that he's healthy and well, I need to focus on Monkey and Little Man.  They are both struggling in school.  Both have problems with focus, emotions, completing tasks.  It's not easy helping them when I am working full time running a business.

That's another change, started working last fall... after over 10 years home with my boys!  It's not easy!  I'm trying to find a way to balance time for myself, and the small time I have with the boys every night.

Time for me...

I have let myself go so badly the last few years, physically and emotionally.  The emotional was the after effect of Bug's cancer, which in turn brought about my physical decline.  I have never been this heavy in my life, and it's draining.  I'm tired all the time, my body aches, and my clothes most certainly do not fit well.

Where to start?!  The obvious is just getting up and moving, which sounds easier than it is.  I am not a morning person, and yet that is the likely the best time for me to workout.  I have to somehow train myself to get OUT OF BED when my alarm goes off at 5:30 am, and not press snooze repeatedly.  Doesn't help that the pups are snuggled in keeping me warm.

Here's my commitment.  Get out of bed tomorrow at 5:30 no matter what!

I'll keep you updated.