communication, health and wellness, lifestyle, Menopause, parenting, Uncategorized, Women, writing

Chapters

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It’s been hot minute since I last posted, literally. This past summer has been one of the hottest on record and not just because of menopause. Mother Nature must be in her 50’s this go around for it’s 30 degrees Celsius (that’s HOT for my American readers) on the 5th of October. With the change of season, on the calendar at least, I find myself pondering change. These past years have seen more changes for yours truly than my mood before doing some hard internal work and getting some good ol’ hormones. While pondering all the changes, I came across a quote that hit the mark – “Don’t judge me based on the chapter of my life you arrived in.”.

I celebrated my 53rd birthday in this earthly realm this past August. I celebrated with my mother, at a local grocery store, as I was her wheels for most of the summer as my father recovered from open heart surgery. Mom even joked “Isn’t this better than some party?”. Actually, it kind of was. Dad’s heart wasn’t in the best shape and it was a 6 hour surgery with 14 hours on a ventilator and a 2 week hospital stay. Knowing my 53rd birthday very well could have been one person short, I was quite content to be at a grocery store with my momma on my birthday and arriving at their front porch to see Dad smiling as I brought in the groceries.

These past months I’ve found myself looking at strangers wondering what chapter they are in. Are they beginning one? At the end of one? In the thick of one? I find myself being more patient – those who know me well have just fell off their chairs. Recovering from heart surgery is not for the faint of heart – pun intended. Everyday I kept having the same thought – what do people do who are on their own? I found myself wanting to scoop up all the lone patients and bring them home like some kind of stray puppy. Yes – I realize – kind of co-dependent – I’m working on it. Wondering if one could be co-dependent with the Universe? You found your girl, well, at least I used to be your girl, slowly closing that chapter and trying to begin the next one. Back to the tale at hand. While passing the patients, the families, the hospital staff, I found myself wondering who they were? What was their day like? Were they scared? Were they at peace? Which chapter was this for them? Was it their last? Are they wondering the same thing about me? I found myself hoping they were, because if they’re wondering about others, there is hope for us all after all.

If this past chapter has taught me anything it’s this, we have no say, no control of anything except ourselves, there’s been a few days I’ve forgotten that. Also, you cannot rewrite or edit yourself into or out of anyone else’s chapter, no matter how hard you try – trust me, I know of what I speak. Being a recovering co-dependent menopausal GenXer is such fun.

I’m not even going to go into what’s happening in the world. We are all very well aware and that is another chapter for another day. That being said, taking a moment to remind yourself that the chapter you are arriving in may not be the best chapter to judge others right now may be the best thing you can do for yourself and others.

communication, lifestyle, parenting, Sunday Confessions, writing

Sunday Confessions

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Here we are again, Sunday morning. I’ve felt a tug, a yearning for months now. Whenever it’s quiet, or I’ve slowed down for a minute, it’s there. A voice? A knowing? A nudge? Some call it your knowing. Everyday, at least once a day, it’s there. As I was mixing my instant caramel iced coffee this morning, …my latest obsession, thank you Maxwell House, I stopped stirring and listened to my knowing. Write. That’s all it said. That’s all I felt, that’s all I heard. So beauties, here I am, writing. Fitting it’s a Sunday, because this gal has some confessing to do.

I’ve had this blog for over 12 years. I used to write everyday. Then I stopped. I would say it was because of the shop closing, job changes, life stresses, you name it, I would use any and all reasons as an excuse for why I wasn’t writing. It’s all bullshit. It is. I stopped writing because I stopped writing. No one else to blame – easy to do, but not the truth. I’ve come to realize I was playing the blame game. Blaming job changes, job losses, family struggles for the reason why I couldn’t write. I stopped writing because I chose to. I stopped writing because I listened to the naysayers. There was a time I wrote about speaking your truth and being your own beautiful, and there I was not practicing what I preached. Well, fuck that shit.

It’s been a time for us all. These last 5 years have melted together, time doesn’t seem real some days. The past 2 years have been a journey for yours truly. It began in October of 2023, when I was fired from a job I was recruited for. Long story short – I wouldn’t accept corporate funds to my personal account – a tale for another time. They say things happen for a reason, and usually my response to that is with my middle finger, but it worked out. I was able to be home to help my family. Hubby had emergency cataract surgery, both my parents had some health issues, I was able to be home for my child who is in need of support. My hubby is out of the house at least 12 hours a day, so I was home for home repairs, like ridding our home of mice – I wanted to live near the river didn’t I? Shout out to Ontario Wildlife Removal – humane treatments and no more mice. I also had time to slow down and complete a thought, which isn’t always as great as one would think. I had time to look at my part and my actions, or non actions for that matter, in my life – and anyone who knows me knows how much I LOVE admitting a short coming or realizing where I’ve screwed up. My child has had many a knock on their door from me just to hear me say “I have another thing to apologize for” upon opening their door. If I can offer any advice on parenting, it’s this. Listen to your kids and apologize to them. It doesn’t matter how you feel about what they are saying, trust me, it can really suck. As parents, we have to acknowledge our kids feelings and recollections of what transpired. There will be time later to excavate the past, but the dig cannot begin until you let them talk, and I’ll say it again, it can really suck, BUT! the connection after is so worth it. All that to say, yes, I was “busy”, but still wasn’t writing, still making excuses why I couldn’t, still not listening to my knowing.

Tomorrow my father goes in for heart surgery. He is in good health, his ol’ ticker needs some help, which he will be receiving tomorrow, triple by pass and valve repair – and because we’re in Canada, all we have to worry about is paying for parking and my Dad’s recovery. Over the past few days, many dear friends have been struggling, aging parents, loss of a child, divorce. Maybe that’s why I decided to listen to my knowing today. Maybe today’s tale will make someone smile, feel seen, feel less alone. I know I feel less alone when I write. I feel the hug of my Gramma Leah when I write, I feel as though her hands are on my shoulders and she’s looking over my shoulder waiting to see what words will appear next. (I do know she isn’t fond of my curse words.). I can’t explain it, nor do I wish to. It’s magical.

Listen to your knowing. I know it’s scary, trust me. I know it seems easier to push it away. It’s telling you who you are, what will help you, where the answers you’re looking for are. It’s your magic waiting for you to be magical.

Beauty, health and wellness, lifestyle, parenting, That girl in the red coat, Uncategorized, Women

Enough already

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Here we are, the final month of 2023. The holiday season is ramping up. Holiday parties, secret Santa’s, office parties, primary school’s “dress as your favorite decoration” day…ugh, don’t miss those days. Everyone rushing around, stressing over the “perfect gift” as they are also stressing over how to pay for the groceries this week. …don’t even get me started on the price of EVERYTHING these days. Watching and listening to people, those I hold dear and those I see on Facebook and Instagram worrying if it’s enough, if they’ll have enough, if they are enough.

This past year, hell, these past three years (thank you Covid), have kicked my ass…and can kiss my ass for that matter. I know I’m known for my positive spins and am a believer of looking on the bright side of life. Always trying to find the good in any situation. That gratitude will help you reach your destination. I’ve also come to realize that a good ol’ dose of “Fuck this Shit!” has it’s medicinal purpose. I find it quite healing actually, quite good for my mental and emotional health. A visit to Fuck this Shit Ville. It’s a place I go to when it’s all too much. I recommend little visits to this destination, I do not recommend setting up camp there. I’ve done both, the latter is not a welcoming neighborhood. (Hence my last blog entry being in February…oops).

Many a thing has happened to yours truly this year. Some good, some great and some, well, imagine a kick to the crotch. Those tales will be for another time. The purpose for today’s post is this, to remind myself and you, my beloved readers, that I am and you are enough. We are. No matter what your boss says, your mother in law (mine’s lovely thank god) says, Facebook and Instagram says, you are enough. Your enough will never be the same as mine or anyone else’s on any given day. Give yourself some grace. The world is upside down, it seems more than it’s ever been. It seems everything is increasing except for plain old compassion and kindness. * As for bosses making you feel like you aren’t enough, or doing enough, more often than not, it’s because they themselves are not doing enough, and shit rolls down hill. Just sayin’.

We all feel like we have Mount Everest in front of us. Something my daughter reminded me of, if you’re climbing Everest everyday, there’s a problem. No one can do that. So today, I’m here to give you, and myself, permission to have our own definition of enough. Being me, as you know, a lover of lists, if you did any of the following, or didn’t, it’s enough.

  • you got out of bed
  • you fed yourself
  • you fed your child
  • you went to work not knowing how you’d make it through your shift
  • you made that call you didn’t want to make
  • you told someone how you are feeling
  • you took care of an aging parent even though it scares you to do so
  • you washed the dishes
  • you did the laundry
  • you watched your favorite show
  • you listened to your favorite podcast
  • you listened to your favorite song on repeat to soothe your soul
  • you opened the mail
  • you figured out how to pay the water bill and get groceries
  • you kept your hope for a better day ahead

I know I haven’t even scratched the surface on how long this list could be. Hopefully it resonated with you or gave you an idea of your own “enough” accomplishment today. I don’t know if it’s the state of the world, menopause, getting to the age of 51 and having no tolerance for bullshit and inauthenticity, or seeing and hearing so many of those that I hold dear beating themselves up about being “enough”. I just gotta give my opinion about this. As I type this, I hear those who know me well saying “ummm….You’ve always stated your opinion Sara”. True enough.

Beauty, communication, health and wellness, lifestyle, parenting, Sunday Confessions, That girl in the red coat, Women

Sunday Confessions

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I have a confession to make. A confession of non guilt. I no longer feel guilty about putting myself first. Yes, you read that correctly. I am a woman, a wife, a mother and a daughter who no longer feels guilty about putting myself first and making my mental, emotional and physical health a priority. Before those who know me well call me out about “health”, yes, I still smoke, I’m working on it. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Last night I had the gift of free time. No dinner to make – thank you left overs. An early out of my shift – thank you Covid. My daughter busy mastering her craft. My hubby driving out of town for his weekly check in on his Momma. As I sat down to Netflix and VegOut, I found myself thinking about caretakers. How as women, we are designated this position without any consultation. We are told that’s how we are wired, that it’s in our DNA. That it’s selfish to want, it’s selfish to fill our plate first. That a good wife puts her man first. That a good mother makes sure the needs of her children come before her own. I call bullshit.

I’m here to tell you, from personal and agonizing experience, putting others first and yourself last helps no one, least of all yourself. Sooner or later resentment sets in and BAM! Unnecessary arguments with your spouse, temper tantrum competitions with your children, tears and hurt feelings to all and from all who surround you. All you’ll be left with is puffy eyes, a headache, a sore stomach, feeling like you’re the worst person in the world and your loved ones walking on eggshells in fear of waking the beast and you all wondering “What the hell was that?”. You know what it was, because you know you didn’t make yourself a priority. Your loved ones have no clue, because they don’t know that to put them first you chose to put yourself last. Yep. I said it. You chose to put yourself last. Hey, I did it for 3 1/2 decades, no judgment. I’m here to tell you, don’t waste anymore time and emotional turmoil. I’m here to tell you it’s okay to put yourself first. The world will not open up and swallow you whole. Those who love you will not leave you. Mouths will still be fed and beds will be made.

Now before you declare to your family that they are “on your own bitches!” that is not the moral of this post. Take a breath. Again. Better? Okay. Those familiar with my blog know all to well how I adore lists. So being me, I’ve compiled some guilt free self care, put yourself first tips. PYFT’s if you will.

  • before you get out of bed, make yourself think of one thing you are grateful for. Just one. Let yourself begin your day with a grateful heart.
  • once the coffee is brewed or the tea is steeped, pour yourself the first cup every so often.
  • eat the last donut
  • have your shower first
  • light a candle or turn on your Scentsy warmer as you’re packing lunches. Surround yourself with your favorite scent, even if just for 5 minutes
  • put on your favorite tunes, past and present while washing the ever present dishes. For full effect – put your ear buds in and shake your booty.
  • get outside. Even it’s for 5 minutes. Every morning I make myself go outside and just stand in my backyard. Sometimes I take pictures with my phone. Sometimes I just stand there. I feel better and it gives my neighbours a hobby.
  • watch your favorite shows or movies. I don’t care if you’ve already watched it twice in a month. If it makes you happy, watch it.
  • start reading. Asks your friends if they want to do a book swap. Educate yourself. Enlighten yourself. Escape your reality for a moment. Even a page a day makes a difference. It does.
  • start using your fancy creams and soaps.
  • treat yourself to professional shampoo, conditioner and treatment. Trust me on this one. A good hair day goes a long way. If your hubby can spend $30 on his “phone game” and your kids can make you remortgage your house for Minecraft, you can have great hair.
  • create a vision board. Physically or virtually – gotta love Pinterest. Make yourself something that when you look at it, you feel joy.
  • make a Jello. When you open the fridge, you’ll see something you did, something you accomplished. My gramma Leah knew what’s what. … or a cake, or cookies or whatever your favorite treat is.

It’s time to become your own caretaker. No guilt. No shame. Putting yourself first and practicing self care makes you a better caretaker of others.

Merriam-Webster defines caretaker as “one that gives physical or emotional care and support.”. I looked up many other definitions from various dictionaries and not one definition reads “one that gives physical or emotional care and support only to others and not themselves.”.

communication, health and wellness, lifestyle, parenting, That girl in the red coat

Hindsight is 2020

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“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice.”. – T.S. Eliot.

Here we are. The first day of a new year. January 2021. I woke up this morning after sleeping through the night, a rarity this past year. I wandered into the kitchen, started the coffee maker, looked at the calendar with a sigh of relief, for 2020 was officially over. I ripped that sucker down and gently placed my new calendar in it’s place. Nothing quite like a new calendar, fresh paper and dates open to endless possibilities. As I went to throw out the old calendar, still in my “clean slate New Year’s morning bliss”, I was catapulted back to reality with a full garbage and dirty dishes all over the counter. … a reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same, #momperks #wifeperks. I used to get so angry about that, an overflowing garbage can, dirty dishes piled up on the counter, now… not so much. Trust me when I say I still have my “I am the only one who see’s this?!” moments, they are becoming far and few between. Mostly I’ve taken to Instagram stories to get my vent on. I call them my “keeping it real” posts. There’s one today if you’re interested.

Anywho, back to the tale at hand. I don’t know about you, but wherever I turn, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, text, zoom, facetime, TikTok, you name it, there it is. You have the “fuck you 2020” posts or the “thank you 2020” posts. Today’s post is a little bit of both. You know me, it’s all about balance. Here in Ontario, we are into our second week of a lockdown. It began Boxing day. I am still working, as my store is deemed essential since we supply safety shoes, etc. We are open by appointment only for essential workers and curbside for anyone else. Let me tell you, selling shoes curbside is a trip, a trip to the Bermuda triangle. Grateful for my job, not so grateful for the ever changing policies and procedures. Balance.

This past year has taught me patience and how to let things go. It took 48 years on this planet and a global pandemic, but I finally learned patience and thanks to Elsa, and Snoop Dogg, I have a new personal anthem. (Google Snoop Dogg frozen… trust me, it’s awesome). Beginning in March, I had no say in my job, my hours, where I could go or what I could do or when or if I would have time alone in my own home. Shops were closed. Quarantine was in place. No hugs. No visits. Nada. So, I finally took my own advice that I spew out to all those I hold dear, and controlled the only thing I could, myself. When I started to feel the tightness in my shoulders and chest about having to get things done, I took a deep breath, or twenty, and let it go. I couldn’t visit friends, but I could drop off a goodie bag. Like nicky, nicky, nine door for adults. Ring the bell and run like hell. I couldn’t have my parents over for dinner, but I could go to the grocery store for them. I couldn’t celebrate life’s great and small achievements of those I hold dear and the special moments of their children, but I could send flowers, or an edible arrangement as an unexpected surprise. I’m a fixer, by nature, I just am. This past year has taught me that sometimes the best thing you can do to fix a situation is nothing. More often than not, listening is the best tool to fix any situation. My daughter and my husband like their solitude. It took me a long time to respect that and not take it personally… I’m a Leo, what can I say? This past year, instead of worrying that something was wrong, I took it upon myself to enjoy the quiet and allow myself some solitude too. … Oh yeah, I still peeked my head in my daughter’s room at least once a day with a typical “How ya doin?” mom tone, or a “Hey baby” from across the room to my hubby. Balance.

The biggest personal realization about 2020 that I’ve had? I’m a little full of shit. Yep. All those years I said “I don’t have time!”. Guess what, I did, and I do. I finally got around to all those things I “didn’t have time” for, like framing prints, organizing my kitchen, getting paperwork in order, cleaning the garage… all of the above only took 4 hours. Guess what sunshine, you did have time, you just believed you didn’t.

The toughest realization was and continues to be that not everyone sees injustice. 2020 brought some ugly truths to the forefront of our lives, unfortunately many refuse to see it. I for one see it and will continue to try to help others see it too. I will continue to say Black Lives Matter. I will continue to speak the names of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and so many others. I will continue to share and speak of the injustice set upon the Native community. I will continue to share and speak of the inequality of those with disabilities, of women’s rights, human rights. I will continue to share and speak for those without a voice. I will continue to share uplifting news, motivational quotes from Oprah, Mel Robbins, Tank Good News and other personal favorites. I will continue to share music to feed your soul. For those who don’t agree with me, that’s okay. I get it. This is my journey. That is yours. I wish you safe travels. Balance.

The events of 2020 are to be remembered, not re-lived. We are more alike than different. We all deserve to be heard, to be seen, to matter. The actions of one can affect the lives of others, be it positive or negative. We may not all be in the same boat, we are all in the same ocean. Throw a life preserver when you can, and ask for one when you need one. Wear a mask. Seriously, wear a mask. At the end of the day, wouldn’t it feel great to know you that you may have saved a life. That you may have kept a roof over the head of a family because wearing a mask kept the breadwinner of that household healthy. That you thought of someone other than yourself. Trust me, it feels pretty damn good.

I came across a quote that fits me and this past year, “I’m mostly peace, love and light. … and a little go fuck yourself.”. Balance.

Beauty, health and wellness, parenting, That girl in the red coat, Women

Tips from a pre-Internet Mom

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Today’s tale is for all the parents out there who are realizing day care providers are saints and teachers deserve a raise.

No matter where you are in the world today, you are most likely at home with your children. COVID-19 has created a new normal for us all. I am 47 and my daughter is 23, so I am not facing nearly the amount of stress that many of my friends and the women I know that have children aging from 1 week old to 18.    …that being said my husband and daughter have taken to creating a new language. No words, just sounds…so there’s that. As I was having my coffee this morning, waiting on the muffins to bake, my mind flooded with memories of when my daughter was little. I was a stay at home Mom until she went to school. There wasn’t much daycare around and the daycare that was available, well, lets just say, any money I earned would have gone to her care. To be completely honest, I really hadn’t thought it through. I was 25 when I had my daughter and life was going good. My husband was working his ass off to provide a good income. Then life threw us a curve ball. Lesson learned – things change in the blink of an eye, so you gotta have a plan B, you gotta. So my husband and I decided I would stay home. So there we were, one income, one vehicle and limited funds for extra’s. … oh, and no internet. So I had to get creative.

If you’re stuck in a rut with your kids and about to run down the street screaming “I don’t care if your bored!”, I feel you and I got your back. I’m going to give you some ideas of what to do. They may seem a little corny, remember, I am a pre-Internet Mom.

  • hide shiny objects around the house and have a treasure hunt
  • add food coloring to water and VOILA! Water color paint.
  • put down a blanket in the living room and have a picnic
  • build a fort. Drape old sheets over all the chairs and table in your dining room or kitchen. Use books to weigh down the corners. Put the chairs on their sides to make tunnels.
  • if you own Lego, have a Lego building competition. Put a timer on for 45 minutes. …this way you get 45 minutes to sit your ass down.
  • make muffins or cupcakes. Have your child count out loud the number of liners, teaspoons, cups of water, hell even how many times you have to stir the batter. They are learning and creating.
  • I once had my daughter see how many sticks she could find in the backyard.
  • pop some popcorn and have a movie date – at 10 in the morning. Trust me, it’ll blow their minds.
  • have a dance party
  • pull out the good dishes and have a fancy lunch
  • play dress up with your kids, let them choose your outfit.
  • have your kids do your hair. Scary, I know. They want to take care of you as much as you want to take care of them.
  • go for a walk. Ask them what they are thinking about. Trust me, they’ll tell you.
  • get them to help with chores. Age appropriate chores of course. I would always start with “Could you help me?” when my girl was young. Now it’s more like “Go do that.”.
  • fill the tub and have a pool day
  • play catch, with anything.
  • teach your child a card game
  • play a board game
  • do a puzzle together, or separate and see who finishes first
  • if you have a teen, may God be with you.

I don’t know if this will help, I hope it will. You gotta think outside of the box when you are entertaining/taking care of kids. When it comes down to it, they just want your time and your attention. Just like us, they want to be seen. They want to be heard. They want to know they matter. As my Gramma Leah used to say “It’s long days and short years with children.”. I know it’s frustrating and even tedious at times. I promise you, you will look back on this and be grateful for these times…well most of them.

communication, lifestyle, parenting, Sunday Confessions, Women

Sunday Confessions

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Over the past weeks something has been occurring that has left me, well, a little perplexed. As you know, I have returned to the shoe store 4 days a week. I have been assigned to my old stomping grounds, the Ladies section. I found myself checking the calendar last week to assure myself that it was 2018. I felt like I had gone back in time. Why you ask? Well, it seems that the 1950’s mentality that the man has final say in how the money is spent and he decides what shoe or boot you should be wearing still exists. I shit you not. I have witnessed women telling me they loved the fit of the shoe, that it didn’t hurt their bunion and it was exactly what they were looking for only to have their significant other say “You chose that? Seriously?”. I have also been witness to a man telling his wife she was kidding herself to think the boot she was trying on looked good. I have lost count of the moments I watched the light fade from a woman’s eyes, her head bow down and heard her say “you’re right.”. Women that I know make their own money, women that are lawyers and doctors telling me that they have to get the “OK from the boss” before purchasing their shoes. Pardon my french, this is bullshit and it needs to stop.

What I am about to say may ruffle some feathers, of this I am sure. As women, we teach people how to treat us. Sure, it is a jerk move to belittle your wife. On the flip side Ladies, you let it happen. You have a voice. You have an opinion. You know what you like and don’t like. You know how to treat people and how you want to be treated. You know what is kind and what is not. It really is this simple. Both men and women need to call each other out on inappropriate behavior and comments. Trust me, I have seen women belittle their husband’s footwear choices as well…which is ridiculous if you stop and think about it. Unless you are a part of the psychic network, there is no way to know how a shoe feels and fits on someone else’s foot. I don’t care if it’s a loafer that has bunnies all over it, if the person likes it, it feels good on their foot and it brings a smile to their face, simply smile and let them buy the god damn shoe. Here’s a little go to list for you;

  • Do not tell anyone how the shoe on their foot feels. It makes no sense, you cannot possibly feel what it feels like on their foot and you sound like a fool.
  • Do not tell a women her ankles still look fat when she is trying on high heels
  • Do not tell your 40 year old wife her shoe choice reminds you of your Mother
  • Do not tell your husband he needs “old man shoes” to match his “old man hairline” …yes, I am sad to say I have heard this on more than one occasion
  • When your 10 year old daughter has large feet and needs a ladies size 11, do not say “if this keeps going she’ll be wearing ugly clodhoppers for life” – first of all, that’s mean and ugly. Secondly, most shoe companies make cute shoes and boots up to a Ladies size 13.
  • If you have a job and make your own money, you should not need your spouses approval to buy yourself shoes, man or woman.
  • Never make fun of someones choices. Trust me, I think there are a lot of ugly shoes out there. Key words are “I think”. Just because I don’t like them does not mean someone else will adore them.

If you find yourself saying something to your spouse that if anyone else said to them, they would end up with a fat lip…you probably shouldn’t be saying it either. This applies to everything, not just foot apparel. Be kind. Plain and simple.

 

 

lifestyle, parenting, Sunday Confessions, That girl in the red coat, Women

Sunday Confessions

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Unless you have been living under a rock, in a coma or seeking seclusion in a Tibetan monastery, you are well aware of the political and cultural climate for women. It is 2018 and although we have made monumental strides towards equality, I am afraid, as of late, we have hit a plateau and in some arenas, we are facing stepping backwards. I listen to my daughter, who at 21 years of age is well in the middle of this mix. I hear her concerns, her fears, her hopes, her dreams. I raised her to be fair, to be kind, to stand up for what is right and to stand up for herself. I wanted to raise her the way I was raised. You see, I was fortunate to be raised by a loving and supportive mother and father. I was especially fortunate to be raised by a father who treated me as his child, not his daughter. It wasn’t until I went to school that I realized the differences between girls and boys. …don’t get me wrong, I knew about our biological differences, that only girls could get pregnant and carry a baby and that boys could pee standing up. Other than that, I thought we were the same, equal. I could double dutch like the best of them and could throw a perfect spiral. I could pretend I was a princess while wearing a pretty dress and imagine I was Babe Ruth whenever I was up to bat.

…before anyone gets on the soap box, I know all too well that girls and women are not the only people dealing with discrimination and adversity. Today’s tale is a focus on women and girls. I promise you, others will get their turn.

It wasn’t until I was 10 years old that I realized I would have to fight to prove I was just as good as a boy. We moved to Winnipeg, I was in grade 5 and my first day at the new school we had gym class. The teacher, a man, told the class it was calisthenics day and to start with push ups. So, I got down, assumed the position and began. The teacher came up to me, said “Oh no, you have to do your push ups like a girl.”. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Like a girl?” I asked. He said “Yes. Like a girl. Bend your knees, like the other girls.”. I looked around and they all bent their knees instead of being in a plank position. I looked at him and said “I’ve never seen that before. I don’t know how to do that. I’m doing it my way.”. To which he responded “Like a boy? Hmmm.”. When spring rolled around, it was time for baseball, my favorite sport at the time. I got up to plate and he placed a t-ball stand in front of me. I asked “What’s that for?”. He told me “Girls are afraid of the ball and can’t hit a pitch.”. I kicked the stand over, looked the him in the eye, and told the pitcher “Pitch it!”. …this is how I know there is a god, I hit that ball out of the park on my first swing. I thanked Jesus all the way around the bases.

Fast forward to high school. In Winnipeg, I was in french immersion for 3 years, so when we moved back to Ontario, I was a little lost in science. I had learned the basics in french. I asked my science teacher, another man, to clarify if I had the theory correct. As I was trying to explain I had learned it in french and wanted to make sure I had it right, I was told “Don’t worry so much. You only need one science credit. Pretty girls don’t need science.”. I was also told by a male teacher in grade 11 that “most girls get bored with computers” when I was getting lost in computer programming, a course I chose as an elective because I thought it was cool when my dad and I programmed our commodore vic 20 when I was 11.

In my sales career, spanning 25 years, men have told me;

  • I ask too many questions and if I can’t answer a customer’s question, just get one of the guys. – while selling cars
  • I should smile more
  • I get too emotional – when a fellow sales person scooped my deal and my commissions and I dared to stand up for myself. I had an appointment booked and the customer was under my name in the system, until the rat changed it.
  • “Wow! You have brains with your beauty”.
  • “Better ask your husband if it’s okay that you have to work late”
  • I wear too much makeup
  • I need to wear more makeup
  • I wear too much jewelry
  • I need to wear more jewelry
  • I am better being the face of the business, not to worry so much about what goes on behind the scenes.

Thanks to my stubborn nature, my need to fight for the underdog, my father raising me that I could do anything anyone else could do, my darling hubby who always has my back and a few good men that stood out from the crowd and fought for me and with me, I never let those remarks define me. Oh they stung and pissed me off to no end. I refused to let them define me. Then and now.

It’s 2018 and the fact that girls and women still hear these phrases (and worse) disgust me. Plain and Simple. Here’s the deal. In my book, you are either a good person or an ass. You either use your words to lift others up or to push them down. You are either kind, or you’re not. I don’t care if you are a man or a woman. I don’t care the color of your skin or if you believe in Christ, Buddha or the smurfs. Treat others as you want to be treated. Plain and simple.

health and wellness, parenting, That girl in the red coat, Women

Sunday Confessions

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zzzzzzz….oh sorry about that. Yours truly is tired. Over the past few days I was trying to figure out why I have been so tired. We bought a new mattress and treated ourselves to My Pillow – the BEST pillow investment I have ever made and I have been sleeping through the night most nights. Hey, 4 out of 7 sleep through the night sleeps is pretty great for me. Over the past 6 years I was lucky to get one good night’s sleep.

After I washed the dishes, emptied the garbage – psstt…I have a superpower, it seems I am the only one in the house that can see a full garbage can, did a load of laundry, drove my girl to the bank then to work, got me some new jeans…dropped a size thank you very much, went to the grocery store and the drug store, got home and put away said groceries and toiletries I went out and cut the grass. While putting away the lawn mover I realized why I am  tired. I have been doing everything and forgetting to delegate household chores and I have not been asking for help.

As most women do, we shoulder everything. In some circumstances, we are left no choice, for unfortunately there are partners and children who are oblivious or plain asses. More often than not, we have generous, thoughtful partners and children who only want what is best for us. It is up to us to tell them what is best for us. We teach people how to treat us Beauties. If you are waiting for your husband to wake up and his first thought to be “gotta scrub that toilet today” or hoping your child will walk into the kitchen thinking “gotta get to that floor”, you are going to waiting a long time. Sorry to say, the second coming of Christ is probably going to occur before your desired household wishes.

Here’s the deal. It’s not all up to you. It is alright to ask for help. Stop raking yourself over the coals for not being Martha Stewart, or Mrs. Brady or whomever you compare yourself. Life is messy and far from perfect, so why do you think you should be. Floors get sticky. Dust bunnies procreate at the speed of light. Laundry piles up. Dinners are thrown together with whatever looks and still smells okay.The world will not open up and swallow you whole if you don’t finish your “to do” list. If you need help, ask for it. If your tired, rest. The grass needs mowing but your new Instyle arrived, sit yourself down and read that magazine, the grass will be there tomorrow, I promise. Oh, and if you happen to drop a jean size, be like me and treat yourself to some McDonald’s.

lifestyle, parenting, Sunday Confessions

Sunday Confessions

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Comparison is the thief of joy. A lovely quote I stumbled upon many years ago. I have to admit, I used to compare myself and my life to others. Feeling like I was missing out, or not doing enough with my life. I would hear of vacations, career changes, new houses, new cars, you name it…if I heard about it, it was always accompanied with a dash of jealousy, wishing I could have all those things too. Nowadays, not so much. Maybe it’s maturity, maybe it’s my hysterectomy, maybe it’s the fact I am going to be 46 in a few days, maybe it’s perspective, maybe it’s everything coming together all at once.

This October I am taking a trip to Vancouver with my husband and I am going to my first concert with my husband. We have been together 26 years, married for 24. When I tell this to people, I almost always get “the face”. You know the one, the look of pity, or shock or sheer disbelief that I have not traveled or rocked out at a concert in 24 years. I have had people ask if our marriage was in trouble and if we are trying to rekindle the spark. I have had people tell me it’s about time I started living. I have had people say “…so what have you been doing with your life?”. Ten years ago, these phrases would have flattened me. I would have let the opinions of others take the helm of my life’s journey. I would have felt embarrassed or ashamed of my life, or lack there of. Today, not so much.

A long time ago, I decided to put my marriage, my family and our life together first. Over the years, we have faced job losses, lay offs, health issues – some scary, some not. We decided it made more sense financially and emotionally for me to stay home with our daughter until she reached school age. It didn’t make sense for me to be out of the house 40 hours a week to hand over most of my paycheck to a daycare provider. We made a one income household work, hence no travelling. When my husband was faced with manufacturing layoffs, I stepped up and worked 6 days a week. Keeping our house was more important then having a family vacation photo. My mother in law broke her hip, twice. That summer we took care of her, got her the rehabilitation she needed, took care of her home and finances, so our summer vacation plans fell to the wayside. I could go on an on, reading the list would make your eyes blurry and would give me carpal tunnel. Sure, we could have gone on trips and rocked out at concerts, but we couldn’t afford it, and honestly, I, hell, we were stressed enough, why would we add more financial stress to our platter? How would I enjoy myself sitting on a beach knowing that I had a credit card bill waiting for me in my mailbox with the vacation and hotel charges that I couldn’t pay? I guess all I am trying to say is shit happens, plans change, life gets in the way and never be ashamed of your life because you aren’t doing what everyone else seems to be doing. This is your life. Your choices must be what is best for you, and for your family (for those of us that have one). No one else is living your life but you. Another great quote I stumbled upon is “the opinions of others do not pay the bills”.

I am proud of what my husband and I have accomplished. It hasn’t always been pretty, sometimes it got ugly, but we are still together, fighting the good fight. We never lost sight of the fact that we love each other and that the problems and arguments were because of life getting in the way, not loss of love for one another. We have our home, we have our health, we have a beautiful daughter who is coming into her own and doors are opening for her at every turn…and although it is later than planned, we are going to travel and rock out at a concert.