Monthly Archives: January 2012

Am I obsessed? Nah… couldn’t be… could it?

I find myself drawn to pain.  No, not like hurting myself with knives or candles or anything like that (high school was a long time ago).  The emotional suffering kind of pain.

In my “blogroll” I’ve linked to an awesome blog called “In Jennie’s Kitchen” where she is now chronicling life after her husband very unexpectedly passed away and how she copes.  Usually, her coping comes out in the kitchen because she loves, loves, loves to cook.  And yes, there are some pretty amazing recipes too.  But I confess: I am not reading her blog for her recipes.

Initially I was: I love food blogs and could read them until I die.  My favourite Saturday activity when I was single and carefree was to brew a pot of coffee and take a cookbook out and read it until the entire pot of coffee was gone.  True story!  I love reading about – and subsequently making what I’ve read – food.  I discovered Jennie’s blog after her beloved Mikey had died and the blogging community reposted her request that we all make a peanut butter pie for Mikey.  Bakerella reposted the request, and there I “met” Jennie.

And now I’m officially sidetracked.

When I first made it to Jennie’s site, I read every post since Mikey’s passing.  I cried – sometimes I wept – at the rawness of her grief.  She is very eloquent, has an incredible way of expressing herself, and I find it freeing to read her stories.  I chose the word freeing deliberately.  Every post that she writes reminds me that even though things at home are maybe not ideal, I love the life that I lead with the people in my home.  She keeps me grounded, humble and grateful.  So I check in with her a couple of times a week, and every time she posts, I cry.  I go to her site knowing I’m going to find her pain, and I look forward to it.  I find it cathartic.

Today is the birthday of an old friend of mine.  He passed away very unexpectedly a few months ago, and I was shocked.  I haven’t seen this person in…  probably close to 15 years, and yet I grieved for him.  I think in part – like with Jennie’s site – I thought about how I would cope if MOMD left us now.  I grieved for the family that my friend left behind, because of my perception of how we would grieve if it were us (me & the boys) in their shoes.  But like I said, today is his birthday.  I just spent about 5 minutes reading all of the postings on his facebook page from people who miss him and hope that he’s celebrating his life on the other side.  And yeah, I teared up reading their posts.  I did not write on his wall, but rather to his wife directly telling her that I was thinking of her and the girls today, sending them love and light, hoping that the love and support they have around them helps them through what is sure to be a tough day.

It’s fair to say that I have known my share of unexpected and untimely death.  When you’re a kid, every time someone passes away it seems so unexpected, don’t you find?  I mean, my paternal grandfather was very sick with cancer and emphysema for a long time when he finally passed away.  And still – my 12-year-old mind was shocked.  And then when I was 14 my uncle died, leaving my Mom’s sister a widow at just 33.  That was a very shocking passing; he was healthy young man, with a lovely 2 year old daughter, a very happy marriage and was not at all sick.  One poorly timed fight with a neighbour, irrational reactions and *boom* he was dead.

And of course, 10 years ago this May, my 21-year-old brother died in a drinking and driving accident.  And that too, was a shock.  More than a shock for me – more like earth-shattering…

Maybe it’s because of my repeated experiences with grief (for this listing above is merely the tip of the iceburg; one winter I attended 14 funerals.  FOURTEEN!) that I regularly invite it into my headspace.  It’s as though I think that if I can make a friend of death, it won’t hurt so much the next time it’s hand touches my life…

Or, maybe…  Maybe I’m just obsessed.

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Posted by on January 30, 2012 in Randomness


A trip down memory lane…

This post goes out to anyone who ever lived with someone who shaved a fair bit of hair from their face (or anywhere on the body, really, as long as they used the bathroom sink to do it in) and left a nasty mess in the sink afterwards.

Do you know what I’m talking about?  That ring of short hairs all around the sink, that gets really stuck onto the sink and you need like CLR to get it off?

Yeah – if you know what I’m talking about, this post’s for you!

If you don’t know what I’m talking about, but you have occasion to shave hair from your body using the bathroom sink, LISTEN UP because there are some pointers here for you!

I have some Vexations, shall we say, that revolve around the bathroom.  I know exactly where they stem from too.  See, my Dad?  He was a MAJOR Bathroom Offender.  And while it’s true that when he was done in the bathroom it always smelled lovely because of his cologne, it did not make up for the path of devastation he left behind.  What kind of devastation am I talking about?  Well — I’ll tell you.

The bathmat:  Soaking Wet.  No, I don’t mean it was wet, I mean it was saturated.  It was like the man had an aversion to towels post-showering.  And usually, there was a trail leading from the shower to the bathmat of water.  Puddles really.  And I always stepped in the water, either on the saturated bathmat or the puddles on the floor.  Which would aggravate me – and my mother who I can hear saying “These socks don’t wash themselves, you know!” – because you cannot wear wet socks.  As a result, in my house, your feet had better be good and dry before you step out of the shower or the tub and onto the floor.

The sink: My dad shaved every day.  I don’t think he was overly hairy, but then again he shaved every day so how would I know?  And every time he was finished there would be this nasty ring of hair in the sink.  Maybe not every time; it’s possible that my child-mind is exaggerating it’s memories.  But often enough that it became a Vexation.  And now, MMD shaves about twice a week.  And usually he’s really good about cleaning up the sink afterwards.  But you know, he slips from time to time because (a) he’s human and (b) he likely figures that since he’s the one who cleans the bathroom anyway, I have no grounds for complaint.  And yeah, he may have a point.  So I don’t get as irrational about the sink as I do about the bathmats.


This all started as a trip down memory lane (man, can a girl get sidetracked on her blog!).  Today in Ajax, the weather has been positively spring-like (you may have noticed that it’s January 23.  Yes, it’s January and spring-like.) with temperatures of 5 degrees and cascading rain.  In other words: not really  nice.  So when Sam went for his nap, instead of doing any of the myriad of things I had on my “to do” list, I decided to take a bath.  And while the water was running, I thought it would be nice to shave while I was in there, just like I used to do when I was a teen living in my parents home.

Well…  this was not my best idea I can say with certainty.  First of all, it’s been a long time since I shaved.  What?!  It’s winter, and I’m pregnant.  Lemme alone.  So I started off by exfoliating my legs (it’s a product I sell, I will link to it at the bottom – only follow it if you want to) and then I started to shave.  Well.  I created a ring around the tub, just like the hated ring around the sink!  And I was not happy people, not happy!  I quickly drained the tub, grabbed some dirty face clothes and started to wipe the hairs up while rinsing the tub.  Because damnit, I am NOT going to be the cause of my own personal vexation!  Once the clean up was done, I hoped in the shower to wash the remainder of those hairs off my body.  And since I was there, I washed my face too.

So in short: the trip down memory lane was not at all nostalgic.  The upshot is that I’m clean.  And now so is the tub.


The product I used is called Foaming Sea Salt Scrub.  Here’s the link if you want to check it out:

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Posted by on January 23, 2012 in Vexations