I am getting old. Yes, I know - you can pooh-pooh the idea as much as you wish, and say I'm a youngster, still youthful and all that, but the proof, as they say, is in the pudding. I have noticed some new "crinkles", as my lovely daughter calls them, around my eyes. At the doctor, I had to ask about a small lump on my arm (that in my head, I had expanded to the size of a watermelon and was sure it was at the very least radioactive). His verdict? It's just something that comes with getting older. He didn't think it was so funny when I asked him for a prescription for this aging disease. He told me to ask a pharmacist. They can write their own scrips now. Nice.
I wander up and down the aisles at Shopper's Drug Mart like a hungry orphan in a bakery. My mouth waters at the descriptions: "anti-aging", "age defying", "youthful look" - all subtle euphemisms for: "If you are looking at me you're getting old".
Anti-aging? Does this mean that it stops the aging process, or is merely against aging in general? Hmmmm.....
Spas and salons (of which Brooklin consists, along with fish and chips store, but I digress, although - I do often see lots of older people in the fish and chips stores quite often, so maybe there IS a connection) do not help to demystify the aging conundrum either. Facials, collagen fillers, botox treatments, masks....it sounds painful, and expensive.
I admit that my go-to response to my own aging process is deny,deny,deny. I dye my hair at the first sign of a peeping grey. I pluck unwanted facial hair like a sniper on a secret mission. I buy bras that help me defy gravity, and pants that cover up the dreaded muffin top. I tuck, cover, slather, change, deny, deny, deny.
But really, what's the point? Am I better off because I try to look like I did when I was twenty? Because I know for a fact that I do NOT want to feel, or be the same person I was when I was twenty. So why do I want to look like her?
Fact is, time marches on. I'm happy, crinkles and all. And I know that one day I'll have more wrinkles than not, my hair with give up the fight with the grey revolution and my boobs will resist being stuffed into a tata tamer from Lululemon in favour of a Playtex comfort bra (hey - at least they'll be somewhere north of the equator!), but I am guessing that I'll still be happy. God willing, I'll have my family and friends by my side, most likely pointing out all my new flaws, and I'll love every second of it.
In the meantime? Deny,deny, DENY!!!
Find your CORE!
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
You don't know you're beautiful. That's what makes you beautiful.
Warning: This blog expresses a bit (alot) of ranting about a subject that may be controversial or upsetting. I write my blog as a forum to inspire people, make them laugh and hopefully help them learn something about the world or themselves. This one's a far cry from my normal lighthearted fare, so read on at your own risk. I'm feeling passionate.
We have failed our young people. Today's "millenium" generation as it is called is easily the most entitled and spoiled group of young adults in the history of man. We have created them a world where all they need to do is think something for it to become a reality. A click of the mouse, a swipe of a credit card..everything is at their fingertips. For the first 10 years of a child's life we teach them to read, write and do arithmetic. The stricter parents among us teach them how to set the table, make their bed and fold their laundry. If we're lucky they learn a few rudimentary social skills, how to make friends, to be kind and not to talk to strangers.
So if we can call the first 10 years the learning years, we can call the second decade of life the decision years. In the pre-teen and teenage years we expect these children to do all of the following and more:
-choose high school classes that will impact the course their university/college/trade
-choose healthy coping mechanisms to deal with difficulties
-choose NOT to bow to pressure to take drugs, drink, have sex, and all other social ills
-choose a career trajectory, college, university etc..
-make positive choices, friends, jobs, social activities.
I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. And I certainly didn't know how to make such overwhelming decisions when I was a teenager. C'mon - I could barely choose which acne treatment to use.
We ask that, with the above mentioned first decade of learning behind them, they make huge decisions in a time when:
-they are RAGING beasts full of hormones, and overdosing in insecurities
-they really know NOTHING of life, and generally have parents who are just in the process of figuring this shit out themselves.
-they are changeling creatures. They start the decade as children, in children's bodies. In the decision decade they grow physically and emotionally from child to adult.
All this PLUS the fact that this current generation gets handed the whole world...literally...via the internet. Where our teen years had their own horrific angst, ours at least was contained to our community, schools, families. Today - there are no strangers and no boundaries - and no end to the choices a "connected" teenager has to make each day.
In September a 15 year old girl posted a silent video, using flash cards, a black and white chronicle of pain and suffering. A story of abuse, mental illness and pain. Amanda Todd's story is by now known to all Canadians, and we MUST mark this tragedy. A young girl, obviously searching for love and acceptance, her innocence stolen, her self esteem pummeled, her reputation in ruins. I will not spend any time talking about her predators (I refuse to use the word bully, because sexual predator, pedophile, criminal, suits so much more) except to say that they too are suffering from teenagehood, and have chosen, wrongly, to boost themselves up by dragging others down.
Yes, I believe we have failed our teenagers. We look at them with disdain, we cross to the other side of the road when we see a group of them, we fear them. I believe that this is because we still remember the pain of our own torturous years as teenagers. We know the confusion. We still feel the growing pains. We don't want to look them in the eyes, just in case we see something of ourselves mirrored there. We definitely don't want a reminder that part of us may still dwell there.
Teenagers are blank slates, morphing into the adults they will become, searching for confirmation they are on the right path, looking to us to see if they are doing okay. They are looking to be good enough, and we, as a society, look the other way, or sneer back at them, telling them that clearly, they are not.
Amanda Todd has caught public attention like few of the 100's of Canadian teens who commit suicide, and 1000's who attempt, or cut, or suffer from mental/emotional health issues. I believe that this is because she, like few others, actually reached out to us all. We, who can drive YouTube views on videos of a dog sleeping, a dancing parrot or a cuddly kitten to go viral in less than 24 hrs, we missed a plea for help so desperate that words couldn't articulate the pain. Amanda no longer had a voice.
It takes a village to raise a child. From birth to death, we all are still growing up. And those of us with the good fortune to make it to adulthood must behave as we want our next generation to do. With compassion, with humanity and with love. Every child is the collective responsibility of us all, and they deserve to have us all on their side.
So next time you walk past a teenager, or a gaggle of them, catch their eyes, smile, take a chance to engage in conversation if it is appropriate. But most of all, remember that when they look at you they are seeing themselves reflected back in your eyes. Show them that you believe they are worthy, that you see them,and that you know they matter.
Your smile might be the last piece of hope that saves a life.
We have failed our young people. Today's "millenium" generation as it is called is easily the most entitled and spoiled group of young adults in the history of man. We have created them a world where all they need to do is think something for it to become a reality. A click of the mouse, a swipe of a credit card..everything is at their fingertips. For the first 10 years of a child's life we teach them to read, write and do arithmetic. The stricter parents among us teach them how to set the table, make their bed and fold their laundry. If we're lucky they learn a few rudimentary social skills, how to make friends, to be kind and not to talk to strangers.
So if we can call the first 10 years the learning years, we can call the second decade of life the decision years. In the pre-teen and teenage years we expect these children to do all of the following and more:
-choose high school classes that will impact the course their university/college/trade
-choose healthy coping mechanisms to deal with difficulties
-choose NOT to bow to pressure to take drugs, drink, have sex, and all other social ills
-choose a career trajectory, college, university etc..
-make positive choices, friends, jobs, social activities.
I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up. And I certainly didn't know how to make such overwhelming decisions when I was a teenager. C'mon - I could barely choose which acne treatment to use.
We ask that, with the above mentioned first decade of learning behind them, they make huge decisions in a time when:
-they are RAGING beasts full of hormones, and overdosing in insecurities
-they really know NOTHING of life, and generally have parents who are just in the process of figuring this shit out themselves.
-they are changeling creatures. They start the decade as children, in children's bodies. In the decision decade they grow physically and emotionally from child to adult.
All this PLUS the fact that this current generation gets handed the whole world...literally...via the internet. Where our teen years had their own horrific angst, ours at least was contained to our community, schools, families. Today - there are no strangers and no boundaries - and no end to the choices a "connected" teenager has to make each day.
In September a 15 year old girl posted a silent video, using flash cards, a black and white chronicle of pain and suffering. A story of abuse, mental illness and pain. Amanda Todd's story is by now known to all Canadians, and we MUST mark this tragedy. A young girl, obviously searching for love and acceptance, her innocence stolen, her self esteem pummeled, her reputation in ruins. I will not spend any time talking about her predators (I refuse to use the word bully, because sexual predator, pedophile, criminal, suits so much more) except to say that they too are suffering from teenagehood, and have chosen, wrongly, to boost themselves up by dragging others down.
Yes, I believe we have failed our teenagers. We look at them with disdain, we cross to the other side of the road when we see a group of them, we fear them. I believe that this is because we still remember the pain of our own torturous years as teenagers. We know the confusion. We still feel the growing pains. We don't want to look them in the eyes, just in case we see something of ourselves mirrored there. We definitely don't want a reminder that part of us may still dwell there.
Teenagers are blank slates, morphing into the adults they will become, searching for confirmation they are on the right path, looking to us to see if they are doing okay. They are looking to be good enough, and we, as a society, look the other way, or sneer back at them, telling them that clearly, they are not.
Amanda Todd has caught public attention like few of the 100's of Canadian teens who commit suicide, and 1000's who attempt, or cut, or suffer from mental/emotional health issues. I believe that this is because she, like few others, actually reached out to us all. We, who can drive YouTube views on videos of a dog sleeping, a dancing parrot or a cuddly kitten to go viral in less than 24 hrs, we missed a plea for help so desperate that words couldn't articulate the pain. Amanda no longer had a voice.
It takes a village to raise a child. From birth to death, we all are still growing up. And those of us with the good fortune to make it to adulthood must behave as we want our next generation to do. With compassion, with humanity and with love. Every child is the collective responsibility of us all, and they deserve to have us all on their side.
So next time you walk past a teenager, or a gaggle of them, catch their eyes, smile, take a chance to engage in conversation if it is appropriate. But most of all, remember that when they look at you they are seeing themselves reflected back in your eyes. Show them that you believe they are worthy, that you see them,and that you know they matter.
Your smile might be the last piece of hope that saves a life.
Friday, October 12, 2012
It looks fresh and fruity like tasty Kool-Aid But the bug that are in it were murdered with raid
Let me begin this blog entry with the following disclaimer: It has NOTHING to do with fitness. Beyond the fact that it occurred in a facility in which fitness classes take place. It's all about bugs. Which, if I may say, are creepy and crawly. And it is October. So thematically I'm not that far off the mark. But I digress.
I am avoiding admitting a wrong that I did this morning. While washing my hands, fixing my hair, getting myself pumped for my upcoming class,I heard a rustle. A menacing purr. The tiny patter of millions of little arthropod legs. That's right. A bug. In the sink. Near me.
I don't love bugs. I love all living things and believe in the sanctity of life. All life. In fact - I drive Sean NUTS demanding he gently remove the spiders from our ceilings, rather than his preferred method of bug removal - the squash and scrape. I don't need to explain. But bugs, they kinda, well, bug me.I just live in denial of their existence unless directly confronted.
This bug was aggressive, terrifying, out for world domination, I sensed it. I panicked. I turned on the tap, and watched all 100,000 legs swirl around as he desperately tried to cling to life. R.I.P Mr.Manylegsscarybug.
Safe now, I composed myself and taught my class, leaving the ordeal behind me, my fears washed away.
After class, as I bent to change my shoes, I heard a rustle. A menacing purr. the tiny patter of millions of little arthropod legs. That's right. Mr.Manylegsscarybug has friends. And they are out for revenge.
It's antenna waved accusingly at me. It tapped some of its hairy little legs (did I mention it has 100,00 of them? Who needs that many? A little over kill in the design plan, if you ask me) and reared up, angrily declaring it's opinion of my bug killing ways, vowing that my rampage would stop here. He was a bug on a mission. But before I could raise my shoe in defense, I took a closer look.
"Are those tears in it's eyes? Did I deprive this bug of a close family member? Maybe the bug I killed was the family breadwinner. What have I done??" Fear turned to guilt. Time to re-evaluate.
Yes - folks, this is actually what it's like inside my head. Do up your seat belts, the ride is not done.
So I left the bug. Which is what I should have done with the first one. I'm not judging those of you who repel bugs in any way that works for you. We are at the top of the food chain for a reason. But for me, I'm going back to being a pacifist. I'm not taking any chances - if there is a insect revolt, there's more of them than us. I'm padding my chances, people!
Find your CORE.
I am avoiding admitting a wrong that I did this morning. While washing my hands, fixing my hair, getting myself pumped for my upcoming class,I heard a rustle. A menacing purr. The tiny patter of millions of little arthropod legs. That's right. A bug. In the sink. Near me.
I don't love bugs. I love all living things and believe in the sanctity of life. All life. In fact - I drive Sean NUTS demanding he gently remove the spiders from our ceilings, rather than his preferred method of bug removal - the squash and scrape. I don't need to explain. But bugs, they kinda, well, bug me.I just live in denial of their existence unless directly confronted.
This bug was aggressive, terrifying, out for world domination, I sensed it. I panicked. I turned on the tap, and watched all 100,000 legs swirl around as he desperately tried to cling to life. R.I.P Mr.Manylegsscarybug.
Safe now, I composed myself and taught my class, leaving the ordeal behind me, my fears washed away.
After class, as I bent to change my shoes, I heard a rustle. A menacing purr. the tiny patter of millions of little arthropod legs. That's right. Mr.Manylegsscarybug has friends. And they are out for revenge.
It's antenna waved accusingly at me. It tapped some of its hairy little legs (did I mention it has 100,00 of them? Who needs that many? A little over kill in the design plan, if you ask me) and reared up, angrily declaring it's opinion of my bug killing ways, vowing that my rampage would stop here. He was a bug on a mission. But before I could raise my shoe in defense, I took a closer look.
Yes - folks, this is actually what it's like inside my head. Do up your seat belts, the ride is not done.
So I left the bug. Which is what I should have done with the first one. I'm not judging those of you who repel bugs in any way that works for you. We are at the top of the food chain for a reason. But for me, I'm going back to being a pacifist. I'm not taking any chances - if there is a insect revolt, there's more of them than us. I'm padding my chances, people!
Find your CORE.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Thank you for the music, the songs I’m singing Thanks for all the joy they’re bringing.
Ahhh, Thanksgiving. The time of year we gather together, count our blessings, and eat a ridiculous amount of food. That blessed preview to the Christmas season, a time to be happy for the abundance of the harvest, and to feel grateful for the ridiculous over indulgence that is our lives. We want for nothing, really. So this Thanksgiving I will be making an effort to remember how lucky I am, and to remind myself and my family that millions of other people in the world lack the very base necessities that I take for granted.
I practice gratitude actively, because it makes me a happier person. The more I remind myself of the wonderful things in my life, the more I desire to work hard to appreciate them, and nurture them.
So here is Annie's list of the little things I will be celebrating this weekend and beyond:
(a) the smell of coffee in the morning. Not just because it smells SO good, but because it means my hubby got up 5 minutes early (which is REALLY early) and thought of me.
(b) a hug from my son. My 8 year old boy is a pretty independent little dude, and affection is definitely at a premium. So when he spontaneously wraps his little arms around me? Priceless.
(c) am always thankful for a day when my cats forget to use my basement as a bathroom and actually use their litter box.
(d) it's completely awesome that I have friends that fulfill all of the following roles in my life
- that friend that you call, ask them to bring a shovel, tarp, wheelbarrow and an empty trunk and they don't ask why, but pull into the driveway five minutes later.
- that friend that breaks out into random singing (or rapping) at pretty much exactly the same time as you, and it's a song that no one in the whole civilized world would EVER be caught singing.
- that friend who does everything way better than you could ever hope, but celebrates all your efforts as if they were the most amazing achievements ever.
- that friend who, while often out and about, always on the go, who drops everything if you say you need her.
- those friends who, without them, you would not be the person you are today.
(e)EVERY day, every moment, every second, I am grateful that my daughter is not yet a teenager.
(f) am thankful that no matter how busy I get, God always forgives me when I fail to put Him first, and always welcomes me back, no strings attached.
(g) I am thankful for the amazing health care professionals, nurses, specialists and dr's who care every day for my Dad, who have gone above and beyond the call of duty to care for him and give him dignity in an undignified situation.
(h) mostly I am thankful for the perspective that being 35 has given me, and for finally feeling like a grown up (well, a little anyway). I cherish the ability to be in the moment and love each second of it, and for all the people who make up all the moments of my life.
My love to all people in this wonderful world, to all who have nothing, who fight for peace and equality, who protect and serve, who teach, who comfort, who love. I wish everyone a weekend, in fact a life, full of gratitude (and turkey too!)
Find your CORE.
I practice gratitude actively, because it makes me a happier person. The more I remind myself of the wonderful things in my life, the more I desire to work hard to appreciate them, and nurture them.
So here is Annie's list of the little things I will be celebrating this weekend and beyond:
(a) the smell of coffee in the morning. Not just because it smells SO good, but because it means my hubby got up 5 minutes early (which is REALLY early) and thought of me.
(b) a hug from my son. My 8 year old boy is a pretty independent little dude, and affection is definitely at a premium. So when he spontaneously wraps his little arms around me? Priceless.
(c) am always thankful for a day when my cats forget to use my basement as a bathroom and actually use their litter box.
(d) it's completely awesome that I have friends that fulfill all of the following roles in my life
- that friend that you call, ask them to bring a shovel, tarp, wheelbarrow and an empty trunk and they don't ask why, but pull into the driveway five minutes later.
- that friend that breaks out into random singing (or rapping) at pretty much exactly the same time as you, and it's a song that no one in the whole civilized world would EVER be caught singing.
- that friend who does everything way better than you could ever hope, but celebrates all your efforts as if they were the most amazing achievements ever.
- that friend who, while often out and about, always on the go, who drops everything if you say you need her.
- those friends who, without them, you would not be the person you are today.
(e)EVERY day, every moment, every second, I am grateful that my daughter is not yet a teenager.
(f) am thankful that no matter how busy I get, God always forgives me when I fail to put Him first, and always welcomes me back, no strings attached.
(g) I am thankful for the amazing health care professionals, nurses, specialists and dr's who care every day for my Dad, who have gone above and beyond the call of duty to care for him and give him dignity in an undignified situation.
(h) mostly I am thankful for the perspective that being 35 has given me, and for finally feeling like a grown up (well, a little anyway). I cherish the ability to be in the moment and love each second of it, and for all the people who make up all the moments of my life.
My love to all people in this wonderful world, to all who have nothing, who fight for peace and equality, who protect and serve, who teach, who comfort, who love. I wish everyone a weekend, in fact a life, full of gratitude (and turkey too!)
Find your CORE.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
What's New Pussycat?
I know that this is a blog with a health theme, so just let me precis the following writings by saying that my cats are good for my health.
I am a dog person, through and through. I LOVE dogs. I love their panting, slightly sardonic faces. I love that every time you leave the house, even if it is only to take out the garbage, a dog treats your return as if you have away for a year. I love doggy breath, doggy snoring, doggy snorting, well pretty much anything doggy. But I don't have a dog, so I digress.
I do, however, have two cats. Cats generally aren't my thing, although hubby Sean is a cat person.Cats are indifferent, independent, self serving and highbrow. Cats have expectations of their humans. Cats are evil.
Some cats have aspirations for world domination, but my cats have less lofty goals. Our cats have already performed hostile takeovers of every part of our homes, and our hearts.
Our two Humane Society adoptees had us from hello. We brought them home over a year ago, and ever since they have ruled our roost with iron paws. Just think of it. If a friend or relative was staying with you and regularly pooped on your floor, wouldn't you have called the authorities by now? But somehow we manage to come up with excuses for this socially unacceptable behavior. "Aww, he missed the box" ( by a whole room????)- not something you'd let Grandma away with!
And then at 3am, when cat feet step over my face, then sit down (are you exhausted from the jump to the bed? Really you can't stand??) on our near my face before drinking from my water glass on the bedside table. And if no water is there - meowing loudly in protest. After all, walking down one flight of stairs to the cat bowl is NOT an option.
Also, our cats do not appreciate Sean and I sharing a marital bed. They like to watch, disapprovingly, any..well..you know.It's like an American Idol audition with Paula and Simon watching, ready to comment after. "Yawn.BOORRRIIINGG!" or "Good effort- now pet me!".
One cat sleeps at my feet, one on a pillow above my head. I have a hard time falling asleep now without hearing the rythmic purr of my cat engine. My nightly reminders (a careful claw, well placed) to not move too much, any disturbance marked by a low meow. Kitty snoring, Sean snoring, Amy snoring....these are the sounds of our home.
So while we stop short of consulting our cats for our investment portfolio, it is clear who are the V I P's (very important pussies) at the Tiffin homestead. And since a snuggle from them can change my entire perspective of the day I'm not going to complain. My cats are good for my well-being. They tell me so - and I dare you to argue with a cat.
Find your CORE!
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