Back At Your Door

I’m an extremely clever woman.

Not to toot my own horn, but I’m pretty smart. I have not one, but two college educations, I read a lot of books, I’m constantly learning & trying to evolve so I can teach my daughters that education & learning doesn’t stop when school ends. But, even though I’m really smart…I’m really freaking dumb.

I’m sure you’re thinking “No MHC! You’re brilliant! Don’t sell yourself short!” (Or “about time you figured it out. You’re so dumb that you didn’t know you’re dumb!”)

Why am I dumb? Because for a social media savvy blogger & entertainment reporter who understands that what’s online never goes away, I literally have no regard for my safety.

This past month I had a conversation with a friend who told me I needed to change the settings on my RunKeeper app because I was literally tweeting a map to my house. I was also informed that my address could be easily acquired from a misprinted address that I found funny. That’s right kids; I posted my HOME ADDRESS on the internet & didn’t even think about it. As my friend said “I could knock on your door & tell you I followed the trail of clues to stalk you. How are you not dead?” I guess no one wants to kill me, so yay?

But this is just one of the many dunderheaded things I do without thinking because I’m flipping dumb. Maybe more naive. I go jogging @ midnight because I figure no one mugs a jogger, especially one with a high end smartphone on her arm while I go down abandoned streets & A CONSTRUCTION SITE. I don’t pay attention & step out in front of cars. I put my address on the Internet & a map thanks to RunKeeper. I’m the easiest human being on Earth to find apparently. (That post has been removed & now only my friends with RunKeeper can see the map)

It’s funny how we as parents preach safety to our children but then don’t even think about our own internet safety (Hell, I didn’t even know what reverse postal code lookup was until two weeks ago). How are we supposed to teach our kids to be knowledgeable about Internet safety (or personal safety) when we literally don’t think & just assume we’re immortal? I need to think & be smarter about how I go about my day; go running earlier, maybe in the mornings, keep a walkie talkie with me at work so when I’m on the floor alone I can call security…oh, and not post my address online. That’s probably a good place to start.

Beautiful Life

Raising a teenager is ever so much fun.

My daughter is an amazingly bright & brilliant girl, but she’s also a normal teen, with her mood swings & melodrama. She eavesdrops on every conversation, she is better at picking stuff up than the CIA, so I’ve had to resort to either conversing via text (as my phone needs a fingerprint to unlock) in my house or hiding personal aspects of my adult life because otherwise she will know. She’s also like me; strong willed, over-achieving & determined. So, we have our moments where I’m the mean mom & she’s being somehow neglected, despite her lovely home, nice clothes, guitar & Jiujitsu lessons & shiny green iPhone. Please alert Child Services haha.

This past month, my child came to me with two requests; she wanted to transfer to the Roman Catholic school system for grade nine & a nose ring. I said no to both initially, the former because I don’t like her basing her major life choices on gossip & the latter because when I opted to do crazy stuff like piercings & tattoos, I was in my 20’s. Not to mention I did just consent to the blue hair, I think I’ve been fair.

Yes. I thought this looked good.
Yes. I thought this looked good.

But, she surprised me by coming to me with real research. The Roman Catholic school has a better science program & on site math tutoring, and as she’s chosen Kinesiology as her major (in case her goal of multi time WWE Divas Champion doesn’t pan out) so having those things will benefit her. The feeder school is trades based, so her University applications won’t be taken as seriously. Uniforms will prevent her from feeling envious & wanting expensive brand name clothes & the school has a better athletics department with a focus on track & field, her preferred sport. She presented a logical argument, so I relented & come fall 2015, she will be transferred to the Roman Catholic high school…

…then she said all of her friends have nose rings so why not her & she lost that round.

But I’m learning as she grows that I need to listen to her. When she pulls out that side of her (that she adopted from me) where she carefully & logically explains her point, I have to respect her input. After all, if I don’t respect her educational wishes for high school, how will I get her to be passionate about University someday? I won’t be able to. So, I’m going to listen to her viewpoint & if she’s taken the time to present what she wants in a mature way, I will listen. I won’t agree every time, but I will listen. This is something I think we need to apply to everyone; if they’ve taken the time & effort to present a rational view, we should listen. This may help me get all three kids to adulthood with all of my hair intact. Maybe. Maybe.

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Shake It Off

Happy Birthday ASH Multimedia!

I started this bliggity four years ago today and I wanted to thank all of you for going on this crazy ride known as my life with me. I’m not going to review all of the ups and downs, just thank you for reading my thoughts and feelings as life happens and hope you kept the laughing @ me to a minimum. I once had an audience of one and that meant everything to me; now I have a much larger audience and that’s really awesome. I’m so excited to see how my little creative outlet has grown.

Every year on this day I try to impart some kind of wisdom that I think will help with daily life. Today is no different.

***Disclaimer: I am a moron. Helpful wisdom is for entertainment purposes only***

I’ve always believed that some of us were put on this Earth to change the world and accomplish amazing things. My daughters are three of those people. I once told someone very important to me that his destiny was to accomplish great things & I just wanted to be by his side while he did.
Now, I like to think I am one of those people, but then I remember, not likely. I write puff pieces & this blog. But I think we all have some kind of purpose on this planet and sometimes that purpose is hard to see when things kind of suck. For a long time, I didn’t really give myself credit for my life’s accomplishments, only my failures. But when I sit in my little house by the creek, with my punch clock job & my new media job & another media project a friend is starting, my happy and healthy children and my 65lbs weight loss, I realize that we as humans need to let ourselves feel pride in who we are. It’s okay to be selfish and say “I did this,” because we need to feel competent and successful. I know what I can do & how strong & successful I can be & I’m proud of that. I no longer need to see my worth in being beside someone; I have worth for being me.

But that’s not my wisdom.

My wisdom is a simple lesson I had to tell myself when I felt completely alone and miserable. I had felt betrayed, like an idiot, and so completely alone and humiliated. But, when I woke up in the morning, I looked in the mirror and said “I’m still here.” Those three words got me through all of the bad times from that day on. Obviously, whatever was bothering me, whatever thing that I thought was life altering and heartbreaking couldn’t be that bad, because I’m still here. I’m still here on this Earth to raise my daughters and accomplish something important. At various points in my life, like all of you, I would lay my head down on my pillow and sob and wish I wouldn’t wake up in the morning…but I did and I’m so glad that I did, because now I get to live my raddest life. I’m still here, on this planet, to make some kind of difference, so I plan to live my raddest life, and be happy, and be positive, and be the person I’ve always want to be so I can teach my daughter how to live their raddest lives.

So, if you’re in the “everything sucks” part of your journey, it’s okay. We all have that part of our story and you’ll soon learn that it’s actually one of the most awesome parts of your journey. No, I’m not insane. All of that bad, horrible crap that rips your heart out and brings you to your knees will help you see how strong and brave you can be. You’ll learn that while in those dark moments, maybe you didn’t handle them with grace or maturity (I know I didn’t), but that’s okay; anyone who says that they handled every single thing in life with poise & grace & has never gone a little bit crazy is a big liar. However, you endured and when they’re over, you’ll have the joy of knowing that you are strong and powerful and brave…and no one can ever take that away from you unless you let them. You are in control of your feelings, how you see yourself. If someone is crushing you, you’re letting them. Take control by telling yourself every day that you are worthy of living the best life. By reminding yourself that this life altering, soul crushing blow wasn’t the end, it’ll help you to keep moving on & when it’s all over & you’re succeeding & thriving; you’ll know that it’s because you learned from the bad.

So, thanks for reading four years of my drivel. I hope to amuse you for four more. I hope we get through lots of really cool stuff together. Maybe I’ll get to tell you about how I met my soulmate and I just knew. Maybe I’ll announce I got the best journalism gig ever (although I really love the one I just started) or another awesome move & of course, how my girls become women. Maybe someday I’ll write my book on love (working title is “I attract Losers”) and you can be hipsters & say you knew me BEFORE it became big & turned into a romcom starring Jessica Alba & Adam Levine. And we’ll laugh. And we’ll cry. And we’ll be strong and amazing people, because we’ll all still be here.

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Run For Your Life

Every other morning, my alarm goes off @ 7am & I haul my tired ass out of bed & go running. I turn on my Runkeeper app & my angry white boy music & run for 35 minutes in the hope that I’ll get closer to my goal of a 6 minute mile. I’m hoping to participate in a 5K zombie run with some friends this autumn, and cardio is a big part of my weight loss plan.

However, I kind of hate running. Like, a lot. It’s tiring and sweaty & makes my hamstrings sore & crappy. But, I do it because I have a somewhat masochistic relationship with running, because when my Runkeeper app says “activity complete,” and my time was faster than the day before & I ran further than I did that day, I’m sickeningly happy.

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My masochistic relationship with running has been helping me cut out my love of garbage food. After my month of no junk food, I kind of went on a bit of a binge, and my weight loss has stalled (the three pound loss this month, bringing the total I’ve lost to 63lbs hammers that point home) & I have to realize that, like everything in life, I need to be accountable for what I put in my body.

There was a time, just four months ago, that I couldn’t run for a minute without being winded. When I started Couch to 5K, that one minute killed me. But I kept at it & I can run almost 5K. As is with everything in life, little victories, get us to where we want to be. That one minute turned to three, then five, to where I am now. Everything requires work & perseverance, & then you’ll get there.

This brings me to my masochistic relationship with running & my love of junk food. When I eat that donut, I’ve just erased that run…that horrible, horrible run. That twisted sense of accomplishment when I’ve gotten better than I did the previous run was just undone by a freaking donut. Why would I torture my body for the sick thrill of that victory just to ruin it because donuts are really yummy?

So, it’s time that I break up with junk food. Healthy living is 80% diet & I’m probably only doing 60% & that’s just not good enough. I have health & fitness goals & I’m not going to achieve them if I’m not giving them my all.

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So, I’m sorry donuts. While I’m sure we’ll get together every once in awhile, every couple of months or so, I have goals to reach & long term health to think about so it’s not you, it’s me. I’m thinking about what’s best for me, my body & what I want to teach my daughters about food choices & donuts, they don’t include you.

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Happiness

I’ve been seeing a lot of people on my Facebook news feed with “100 Days of Happiness” (one friend went all out & decided to do 365!). I didn’t do it because I annoy enough people with my blog pluggery & Fitspo posts. But I love the idea of someone taking 100 days to remind them why life is beautiful. My friend the Psych Major said I remind her of Uni-Kitty from the Lego Movie because I’m always upbeat & positive & oh so happy! It’s not a state of mind; it’s a choice I make every second of my life to be happy, even when the world is a shit show. I do this because more gets accomplished when you’re happy than when you give into the shit show.

Anywho, with that being said, I’m going to post a list of 100 things that make me happy.

***Before someone points it out in some snide comment; my daughters, friends & cats are not things. They are people***

1. My bliggity bloggity. I need to write to feel happiness. I write more when I’m unhappy or stressed as writing is pretty much my everything. But it’s the only way I know how to express myself properly. So, my blog makes me happy as creating ideas makes me happy.
2. Birthday Cake Donuts. I have to run 5k every day to earn the bastards, but they’re so good. Mmmmm.
3. Yoga.
4. My house. I’ll love it more once I paint it.
5. I’m taking the Overlord to see her first IMAX movie on Sunday. She’s going to face her fear of loud noises to see Guardians of the Galaxy. I’m excited for her.
6. The fact that my manager doesn’t object to the amount of casual swearing I do at work.
7. Listening to the Fray in sweater weather.
8. My phone’s autocorrect because it’s funny as Hell.
9. My Ed Sheeran tickets & no, I still won’t sell them to my manager.
10. Getting to play with the new cell phones at work.
11. Pop culture as I’ll be making my livings thanks to celebrity obsession again.
12. Seth Rollins because he is really hot. Celebrity crush FTW.

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13. My hair is finally a colour. Well, two colours. But I don’t need colour correction anymore. Yay! (Check it out in the About Me section)
14. I saw Queen two weeks ago & it was the best concert ever.
15. The song “Explosions” by Ellie Goulding because I swear it sounds like it was ripped out of my journal. I would like royalties Ellie, because you stole my thoughts.
16. Every single thing Taylor Swift does and says. Always.
17. Red freezies. The superior freezie.
18. I have finally mastered winged eyeliner so I no longer resemble a panda in public.

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19. My one on one dates with my girls. I love that I’ve mastered time management enough to give them the attention they need while working to support us.
20. Pikachu
21. Oscar Wilde
22. The fact that Trish Stratus & the Imagine Dragons follow me on Twitter
23. My neighbour. He’s rad.

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24. Somersby. I don’t drink often but when I do, that’s it.
25. Katy Perry. The sometimes angry teen is so excited about our trip to see her.
26. The fact that my 4yo daughter is perfectly capable of saying l’s & r’s but chooses not to because she thinks it’ll get her out of stuff.
27. Reese’s peanut butter everything
28. Clouds that look like stuff
29. Pancakes. All the time. Everyday
30. Post exercise soreness. That means I did it right.
31. My 7yo’s determination to grow her hair as long as Rapunzel’s.
32. My amazing box of stuff.
33. Adam Levine.

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34. An old, beat up copy of Julius Caesar I bought for someone & never got to give to them. Now it’s mine & I like to keep it around to inspire me to achieve my goals. Something something One Tree Hill. ( I watched the show once. It sucked. But I do love the show’s version of “When the Stars Go Blue” better than the Corrs version I heard originally).
35. The song Timber. Suck it, it’s good.
36. Chicken wings from a Windsor pub called Hurricane’s. There are none better.
37. Terrible movies. Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus is a fantastic one. I’ve been told Sharknado is worse. I may need to check it out.
38. The number of times that I will stare at my phone after I’ve unlocked it with the fingerprint sensor as if I expect it to continue to do stuff.
39. Skipping in lieu of walking. It’s more fun to skip. Try it, it’s really fun.
40. Stars. I have a really deep & intense reasoning but I’ll save that for later. But I love them more than life, have four tattooed on my wrist & want a crap ton more.
41. My tattoos. I’m proud of them & can’t wait for the next one.
42. People who quote the Simpsons in their everyday speech.
43. Brown eyes. They’re sexy.
44. The book Flowers in the Attic. It’s so bad it’s good.
45. The colour electric blue.
46. Disney movies
47. Pixar
48. Cat gifs.
49. The number of people who pick up my mannerisms. It makes me feel influential.
50. Old people celebrating their 40th or more wedding anniversary.
51. The fact that years later, people still choose my parents’ wedding song for their first dance @ their own wedding.
52. Jillian Michaels. She’s so great.
53. Any story the Psych Major tells me about her son.
54. Everything about my future.
55. My friend’s new writing project that I may be a part of.
56. The creek in front of my condo
57. Cilantro, only because the Overlord will always correctly identify when the dishes on the cooking shows need it.
58. All of the dishes I’ve created with Red Bull as an ingredient.
59. Red Bull.
60. My iPhone.
61. Soccer hooligans.
62. Skateboarders that fall down.
63. Slapstick comedies
64. Unicorns. Shut up, they’re amazing & you’re wrong to suggest otherwise.
65. The genius who thought to put cookie dough in ice cream. My hat’s off to you sir.
66. My teen daughter’s obsession with the DIY network.
67. The knowledge that I do not have a Pinterest & have no desire to get one.
68. Sitting down after my shift.
69. The knowledge that I’m immature enough to laugh hysterically right now.
70. The fact that I’m in my 30’s & I still don’t get dirty jokes.
71. The fact that my 4yo asked for “All the Things” for her birthday.
72. Lumpy Space Princess
73. Archer. It’s so funny.
74. Moustaches
75. Pickles
76. Stuffing things into cookies (ie s’more stuffed cookies)
77. Pictures of Yorkies dressed up as Harry Potter
78. Cats with people names
79. My dimmer light switch for my chandelier
80. My Instagram account
81. My fireplace
82. Any time my friend Amanda throws a fit & demands chocolate like she’s a small child
83. Sleeping
84. Squats
85. Camping
86. People who say they like my writing.
87. Laughing until I cry
88. Dressing up my cat Peachy for Halloween
89. Football, but only The New Orleans Saints & only when my 4yo explains the rules.
90. The knowledge that I’m going to enter a fantasy football league, let my preschooler draft all of our players & when we win, tell the wannabe jocks that they lost to a child in kindergarten.
91. Hockey.
92. My Little Pony
93. Texting The Texan screencaps of morons who message me on online dating.
94. Maroon 5’s new album V
95. The Fault in our Stars. If you read it & didn’t bawl, you have no soul.
96. Punny puns.
97. The alarms I set to remind me to exercise.
98. My teen daughter’s exaggerations.
99. Toblerone.
100. French bulldogs.

That’s my list! I hope you got a good laugh & maybe some of these make you happy too! But the joy of life is that stupid little things can make you happy every single day, even this list.

It Takes Two

My friend recently posted this to her FB page & it got me thinking (because I am a weirdo who analyzes memes);

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As the poster child for “taking too long to heal from a bad relationship,” this made me sad. So, I sent her this text;

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The reality I learned is humans choose to make themselves happy or miserable. We choose who we become & no amount of bad relationships can “turn” us into anything. I chose to be miserable & believe my former friend’s lies that it’ll all work out it I wait. I chose to mourn for the life I thought I wanted. I chose to ignore the fact that he is too closed off emotionally to give that life to me & I needed to heal from my emotionally abusive marriage to be in any position to build a life; I just missed the idea of what I thought we were building. That’s what we miss when a relationship ends; the idea of the life we were supposed to have, because we never really have it. If I had that life, we would have talked about our feelings instead of me hiding my concerns because he’d leave me. I shouldn’t have had to be afraid he’d leave if I breathed wrong or asked for my feelings to be validated or to be made a priority. If that life had been real, I would have felt safe & happy. I thought I did, but now I realize I didn’t, because I was so afraid he’d leave, because he did, all the time. What I missed wasn’t real & what made my friend feel like the graphic wasn’t real. She’s too sweet to ever do it, but if she becomes a bitch, it’s her choice, just like I chose to be miserable. I made that choice & then I un made it. I decided, much like when I mourned my marriage, that I wouldn’t mourn a life that wasn’t real. I mourned this family that wasn’t real. Reality was an emotionally defeated mom, and three little girls who were afraid of their angry father. I needed to focus on why I make bad choices, which is that I choose broken men. I choose them because I want to make them happy so I can feel happy knowing I bring someone joy. I do this because I was unhappy with my weight, my lack of byline, my insecurities about who I am. If I make these broken men happy, then I’m doing something right so I have value. So, I choose to bring myself joy, give myself value & then I won’t need to choose broken men & keep up that cycle. The only reason the cycle in the graphic exists is because we allow it. When my teen daughter mentioned the emotionally abusive relationship of Damon & Elena on The Vampire Diaries was romantic, I had to think about what I had been teaching her. I had been teaching her that women in love allow men hurt & manipulate them & it’s their fault for not loving them enough. I don’t want my daughter in that cycle, so I had to break it, for myself, for my daughters. Again, that’s a choice I’m making for us, to teach them what a healthy relationship is.

No one can “make” you a bitch or an asshole. You chose that. You chose to crush the heart of that person that loved you. You chose to let someone crush it. You made those choices & you chose to dwell & let it warp you. Why choose to destroy joy? I was destroying my own joy & for what? Nothing. So, I choose joy. I choose my happily ever after. It’s right now, in this moment. I’ll fix what makes me feel weak & make myself happy, because then no one can rip it away. But in the moment it’s hard to see that reality & seeing my friend’s pain (albeit in snippets with her talking about binge eating, etc.) made me realize something I didn’t for a long time. I understand why my ex-BFF lied for so long. I was crippled emotionally by the on & off, the intense togethers & sudden splits & the consistent rejections that I couldn’t think. I went to school & raised my kids but my friend saw me broken, so very broken. He just wanted to make the pain go away. Hearing her pain made me want to do the same thing. But we have to choose the path of reality & allowing someone time to figure out what they miss isn’t real & the real happy ending is around the corner is much kinder in the long run.

My friend is an amazing & strong woman, mother, performer & friend. She will choose joy & meet her match & live a beautiful life. Even if she doesn’t, she’ll live a beautiful life with her son. Because happy is a choice, not a situation.

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I Almost Do

I don’t mind being single. I don’t mind living alone. In fact, I revel in it.

I’m kind of hermit like, and as I told my friend Steph, it’s because I have very little to contribute. People I know live exciting lives; I do a lot of yoga & sit-ups. That’s my life in a nutshell; work, raise family, yoga, run 5k, sit-ups. I find it rewarding, but I know that it’s really boring. Only the Psych Major, her husband & my friend Sarah love sit-ups as much as I do. But I revel in my boringness (I don’t think that’s a word). I love that I do whatever I want. I’m a starfish in bed, I hog it so well even the Pirate Princess (the champion bed hog) would be proud. When I decided to lighten my hair to it’s current light brown & blonde ombré, I didn’t ask for an opinion; I just did it. I pick the movie, & I really don’t care when I hog the couch blanket. I’ve only been making my own decisions for a year, so it still amuses me. I actually enjoy living alone more than I should. I’ve even given up on ever seeing a dime in child support (thanks to our flawed system in Canadaland) or that I’ll ever have an effective co-parenting relationship with the dad. I’ve accepted that I’m doing this life thing by myself & my girls & I aren’t just surviving; we’re thriving & I’m living as an example for them. I’m getting pretty good @ it too. Between meal planning & a schedule, my house is clean, my kids are eating healthy all of the time & most of the time, I’ve got life under control.

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But, I will admit, the latest development in my life makes me wish I didn’t live two hours away from everyone I know & love (one hour from my Sarnia peeps). Because I am actually a moron, I forgot I had two wisdom teeth. I forgot for YEARS, mostly because I had no benefits & couldn’t afford to have them removed. I had the other two pulled years earlier when one got impacted. Well, one of these bastards decided to remind me that they exist by shattering in my gum & getting infected. My face looks really fat & it hurts like a mother effer. But I’ll have surgery & be back to work the next day. Why? Because I can’t afford the time off. Being a sole support parent means sacrifice. But you do what you gotta do.

I won’t lie; I wouldn’t mind a supportive hand to hold to tell me the dentist isn’t scary & an offer to make me soup. I wish I had someone to watch the girls so I didn’t have to condense the teen’s slumber party. I just don’t want to do another sucky thing alone. I get that this is part of independence, but sometimes it’d be nice to have an ally. I know if I still lived in Windsor, I would have friends right there to be a help, but when one moves hours away, you don’t have these things. I guess maybe this broken tooth is helping me realize that while I can do everything on my own; maybe I don’t particularly want to all of the time & that’s okay.

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Not wanting to live forever me against the world doesn’t make me weak; it makes me human. I think I’ve held onto to this belief that I need to be completely independent to prove some kind of point, but maybe I don’t need to prove it anymore. Maybe it’s time I let people help when they offer it. Maybe it’s okay to let people offer comfort, be a friend. Maybe it’s okay to want a partner in life someday. Or maybe I’m whacked out on painkillers & rambling. That’s entirely possible & maybe, that’s okay too.

Hey Brother

Much like everyone else, I was instantly mesmerized with the beautiful story of Ryland Whittington, who’s parents made the brave choice to accept their child for who he is, transgender. Ryland (now seven) often lashed out, saying he hated himself & someday when his family died, he would live as a boy the way he was supposed to. His parents Jeff & Hillary consulted doctors & therapists, who all came to the same conclusion; Ryland was exhibiting feelings of a transgendered male who wanted acceptance. So they did. Their video explaining to friends & family that Ryland would now use male pronouns & live as a male went viral & they received the Inspiration Award at the Harvey Milk Diversity Breakfast.

However, instead of celebrating this family & their demonstration of unconditional love in a time when so many children talk of coming out to find their parents do not accept them, many bloggers & commenters claimed that these parents were actually abusing their son (before I get hatred, I want to remind you that Ryland identifies as male, so I will refer to him as the Whittington’s son).

Wait, what?

Self proclaimed “Speaker of absolute truths,” Matt Walsh claims that Ryland is too young to understand something as huge as gender & he’s confused & his parents shouldn’t have allowed it. Fox News correspondent Keith Ablow said Ryland should have been prescribed anti-psychotic medication. Both of these men stated clearly that Ryland was too young to understand what being a boy was, despite the American Association of Pediatrics saying gender identity is determined at four (Ryland was five when he began his transition).

When I pointed this out in the comment section of Walsh’s blog, along with the fact that he is not a doctor and has never met Ryland. Many of his commenters replied that doctors don’t really know anything so they were unqualified, but Walsh speaks truth. One caught my eye & inspired this post, so thank you commenter, whom I’ll call “Bigoted Psycho (or BP for short).

BP mentioned that doctors don’t know anything. She was diagnosed as bipolar, then with General Anxiety Disorder. But she knew her body & that these weren’t working & found other, natural methods to curb her anxiety & now she’s happy.

Wait, so what BP was saying is by understanding the feelings in her body, she was able to effectively convey them to a medical professional who was able to diagnose her & help her feel okay? So, when Ryland Whittington told his family he felt his body was wrong & he didn’t feel right & needed help, he was able to convey that & feel okay?

No, BP says. Ryland is a child. She was a teenager. It’s TOTALLY different. Oh, okay.

I don’t know the Whittington’s. I am not a doctor. I am not even very smart most days. But I am a parent. I love my girls more than life & I want them to be happy. I want them to know that I’ll love them if they’re LGBT, or straight, if they go to college & become doctors or if they work @ Burger King for life. I also want them to know if they feel something isn’t right, that I’ll be there for them. Whether their stomach is upset or they feel like they’re in the wrong body & they hate themselves. I want them to know that I will understand & accept them. I am their mother & it’s my job to give them the safe haven from cruel people like Matt Walsh, or BP, or the bully down the road & that they can tell me ANYTHING & I’ll help them any way I can. The Whittington’s obviously felt the same way & I have nothing but respect for them.

It’s okay not to understand what it means to be transgendered. I don’t 100% understand. But I’m learning so if I meet a trans person I can get to know them on a human level & not ask a million intrusive questions (I’m a journalist; we ask a lot of questions). But it’s not okay to tell them how they feel about what’s going on in their body is wrong. It’s not okay to tell them it’s a phase. It’s not okay to call them “it” or say they’re confused & this magic pill will fix it. It’s not okay to say that to any LGBT kid. If you don’t understand, then take the time to learn. Try to see things from their POV. I bet we’d be burying fewer LGBT kids who took their own lives if we did. And if you can’t understand, STFU. There’s lots of things I don’t agree with in the world but I’ve learned that, despite Matt Walsh’s claims, there is no absolute truth other than we are all born & we all die. Everything else is a big gray area. So, instead of judging the gray that you don’t like, focus on your own gray.

48 To Go

As I continue to work towards my fitness goals (down 40.5lbs), I’m learning how much money I waste on…well, crap food.

A little progression pic. See my 40lbs loss...and my various phones.
A little progression pic. See my 40lbs loss…and my various phones.

Between my Tim Horton’s Tea and my Starbucks chai tea and my restaurant lunches on paydays, I’m not eating as well as I should be, especially if I want to lose the last of the weight. I’m over halfway to my goal and I’ve dropped two sizes and plan to drop two more, as well as get stronger. Eating that crap is not going to help me. Not to mention it’s pricey and with summer coming, I want to be able to take the girls on a much needed and well earned family vacay to the zoo, as the overlord has been waiting since she was two years old to see hopping kangaroos. Not to mention that in the next three months, I will be attending a WWE Live event and “Queen” Katy Perry with the littles, as well as Queen and Ed Sheeran with friends (still accepting offers for someone to accompany me to see Ed Sheeran. You get to spend my birthday with me and go to Ed Sheeran for free, as my friends are all “I don’t like him, he’s a hobbit.” Jerks), so having the extra cash would be nice.

In order to finally kicking the junk food habit, I’m imposing my #29DaysJunkFoodFree. From June 1 – 30/14, with the only exception being the soon to be teen’s birthday, I’m going to cut out all junk food, fast food, caffeine, and alcohol. I’m going to put the money I would have spent in a jar to see how much money I waste on junk food. Obviously I’ll need to find some workarounds, as my coworkers are planning a team outing (so I’ll have to order salads and drink water), but I will not eat fast food, or chicken wings, or drink, or have any caffeine. I’ll see how much of a difference it makes on my weight loss goals as well as on my wallet. I’m going to hopefully lose more weight while fattening up my wallet.

This just cracks me up...and will help me kick cupcakes.
This just cracks me up…and will help me kick cupcakes.

Part of trying to live better is taking accountability for what I eat. Cutting out junk food and caffeine and restaurant foods will help me live longer by cutting out excessive fats and unhealthy foods, but it’s going to put money back into my pocket, which will help me support my family. I have friends trying it with me, with each picking one exception day and we’re all going to go #29DaysJunkFoodFree. I hope to see awesome results and get one step closer to living healthy and well and teaching my kids to teach them healthy eating habits too.

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Begin Again

I’ve been told when it comes to dating, I’m just too damn picky.

I think I reserve the right to be picky. I’ve dated Newspapers, Mr. Emotionally Stunted, guys who are completely incapable of love because they’re emotionally crippled, narcissists, physically abusive morons, cheaters, etc. My track record effing sucks. Part of that is because I chose poorly. I didn’t see my own value. I allowed people to walk all over me because I didn’t think I deserved any better. But, now, I look differently. I want someone who will help me evolve as a person, compliment my life, all those cliches.

The picky comment came from a friend after I told a guy I didn’t want to see him anymore when I found out he didn’t have a job. The Gleason Table & my new coworkers agreed that this is a deal breaker. I don’t see that as picky, I see it as smart. “I thought you were an independent woman,” the guy snarked when I told him. I am. I live in a house I pay for. I pay my bills. I support my children completely on my own, as I have not received a child support payment in 22 months (although his wages are finally being garnisheed). Everything I own I have purchased with my money from my jobs. While I currently only have one, at one point I was working two jobs & attending school full time. Why? Because I support myself. I don’t need another person to support, so employability is kind of a must.

Late last year, I made the list of the seven rules to dating MHC. It’s important to me to maintain high standards so that I meet the right person & it works. That doesn’t mean I won’t compromise on little things. For example, I don’t really want to date a man that smokes (ironically enough, every man I ever dated, even casually, has smoked), but I will compromise. But I won’t compromise on unemployment. I just wonder why are you wasting your day pursuing a woman, you should be finding a job! I’m really glad I took time away from dating, as it helped me understand how to make good dating choices. After all, whom I choose will be around my daughters (after one year) & they will base their romantic choices around mine. Too often, people rush from one partner to the next because being alone deafens them. They fear the being alone, the lack of intimacy, the idea that it will never end & you’ll always be alone with your thoughts & self doubt. That’s why all of those relationships fail; because they’re making choices out of loneliness, not because they really care for the person. I wondered if that’s why I kept making bad choices. All of the men I choose are the same; broken birds. Perhaps my lonely, sad & jaded year helped me. It helped me discover that, in the words of WWE Superstar (& my husband in my imagination) Seth Rollins, we are the authors, the finishers of our fate. The reason I was unlucky in love is because I was making bad choices, forgiving men & accepting their mistreatment & taking them back without expecting them to make changes. I was just blindly giving. Well, insanity is defined as doing the same thing & expecting different results. I can’t keep doing the same things. I can’t keep overlooking things I shouldn’t. I can’t be a doormat. I can’t keep losing my identity in a relationship. I need to be able to be me, just with someone. I needed to learn that I wasn’t in the right place to be a partner. I needed to grow up, stop letting others define my happiness, define my own happiness & stop letting love be the excuse for why people treated me like crap, because if they did love me, they wouldn’t treat me like crap!

The old MHC would have looked past the joblessness, and his excuse that it wasn’t his fault, the manager was an ass & wanted to help. The new MHC saw the lack of ownership & knew it’s a red flag & walked, knowing she deserves better. Maybe I am a little bit picky, but that’s only because I need to be. If I don’t think I deserve the best possible partner that compliments me & will be a good male role model for my girls, then who will? My friends? It’s nice that they want what’s good for me, but it’s not up to them to build me up. That’s on me. My family? See above. I have to want what’s right for me, & not push down the doubts because I’m too blinded by love to see that I’m being torn apart piece by piece & becoming a simpering, weak, baby. Maybe that makes me too picky, or frigid, or I’ll die alone. But I’d rather die alone with my kids & my cats & blissfully happy with my life, my writing & my fitness than miserably in love with someone who either a) mistreats me or b) just doesn’t work, or in this case, literally doesn’t work.

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