You Tube Taster's Menu - or how to never accomplish anything in a day

It's Rissa's fault.  She sent me a video,  "Orangutan makes friend with dog."  Next thing you know, I'm using the You Tube taster's menu down the right side of the page.  Instead of exercising before work, I'm surfing You Tube - watching dozens of animals videos.   I could have at least gone into work early, so that I could leave early and then exercise.

I'm watching, "Tiger vs Orangutan," "Silverback Gorilla Meets Tourist," which then morphs to "Toddler falls in Gorilla Cage," "Lioness offering her newborn cub to Kevin Richardson," "Reunion between Anita and the wolves," "Woman details cat - mountain lion encounter," "Housecat meets bobcat," "!!!Squirrel adopted by cat learns to purr," and what may be my most favourite 13 seconds of video ever (from 0:05 - to 0:18): "Foxes Jumping on my Trampoline."   Note to self:  do not open You Tube when you are at all hormonal.

Old School Foreplay

Way back when... you know, in the Stone Age... when David and I first got together... We had the best foreplay.  We did.  It was amazing.

We'd snuggle on the couch, as close as two people could be without actually being conjoined, sigh and smile... our hands touching, our minds of a single purpose.

Everything was new.  Everything was possible.  Everything was attainable.  We could have this!  We could do that!   We would contort ourselves into pretzels so that we both got the best view.  One day, we might even be able to create perfection if we just kept on being in tune with each other.

We would open magazines to get ideas.  We used to pore through magazines!  Sorry.  Yeah... not actually talking about sex here.  This was after the having sex all-the-time phase.  We'd moved on.  A dream night for us morphed into staying up late, poring over house plan magazines.  The future opened ahead of us, unobstructed - it was glorious.  We were going to create our dream home.  We were going to buy/design the perfect plan.  We were going to build our own home with our very own hands.  This was before life... before kids...  before debt...

Virtual tours had yet to be invented.  We had to IMAGINE what most of those rooms looked like.  We'd have this great room, that butler's pantry and our very own pedestal tub in a sun-soaked bay window.

We used to dream like that.  ALL the time. Then, as it is wont to do, life got in the way - convincing you that those hopes and dreams you once had?   They're out of your reach.  Well, you know what?  I ain't buying it.  I'm going to do something old school today.  I'm heading to the best bookshop in town... the one with all the great magazines.  I'm  buying me some foreplay.

Pass me the Scalpel...

"Pass me the scalpel," I say.

"No," says David.

"Please?"

"No."

"Don't you even want to know what it's for?"

"No."

"I'm not going to use it for anything bad."

"You're going to cut into your body right?"

"Well, yeah, but just..."

"And it'll probably be near an important artery, right?"

"I would completely avoid any arteries.."

"No."

"I'll just get it myself then."

"We don't have one."

(beat)

"Can we please buy a scalpel?"

"No."

Here comes Mama Bear... or why we shouldn't force our kids to kiss hairy old relatives

Those parents who do not force our children to kiss their leathery Aunt Marjorie upon first meeting, aren't doing it to 'portend doom'  ("Why children need to feel the pinch," Macleans, May 13, 20013).   We do it so that our children will listen to their natural fight or flight response. Yes, it used to be a rite of passage that all kids had to endure. I was swept into many an uncomfortable embrace with complete strangers who happened to be 'family.'

If a stranger in the street wanted to hug your kid - would you let them?  Would you demand that your child kiss this stranger?  Would you poo-poo any ‘childish’ fears they might have about close personal contact with this stranger?  Not a chance.   Why then, when this stranger happens to be family, do people feel that thrusting their children into discomfort is okay, that giving an unwilling embrace to make another person content, is a good thing?  It's not.

That doesn't mean that children don't have to be courteous in their interaction with others - saying "goodnight," or "hello" is a reasonable request and one that I firmly encourage.

 

Yes, Anna Teitel, “a pity kiss for Aunt Marjorie when you’re 6 is a long way off from pity sex with a manipulative college boyfriend when you’re 21.”  It is a long way off, but that just means that the pattern of offering physical contact under duress has been going on for 15 years.  How’s that for conditioning?  I’m not a helicopter parent.  My 12 year old daughter walks to and from school – sans adult – and has done so since she was eight.  Much to my abject parental terror, she’s ridden the subway alone, and we both survived. 

When we teach children to ignore instinct, we teach them to get into a car with a stranger, to ride the elevator when everything in them screams not to, to offer up affection to make someone else feel good.  

p.s.

When playing the tickle game?  When the kid is screaming hysterically for you to stop?  Stop. 

Period Ping Pong

WARNING: Female things will be discussed

So you know how when women are around each other a lot, they can start to synch up their menstrual cycles?  Well in peri-menopause that morphs into Period Ping Pong.  My girlfriend Anne-Marie and I are racing to see who can stop menstruating first.

"I'll see your 23-day cycle and raise you a 15-day cycle!"

"Oh yeah?  Finished on Friday - started on Monday!  This is ON!"

"Diva Cup emptied 6 times!"

"Three super sized tampons - at the same time!"

"7 weeks since my last period!"

"Clots the size of toonies!"

What ever will we bond over when the bleeding stops?  Breast saggage? 

What made me think I was a bike rider??

 I must have been on crack when I thought I could do it.  I agreed to ride with actual bike riders who ride many, many kilometers.  For fun.  I was being 'one of the gang,' I was supporting a cause.  I was out of my freaking mind.

When I think of bike riding in the abstract - I think of sunny days on flat roads.   I think of shiny happy people on vintage bikes with wicker baskets on their way to picnics, sharing commiserative smiles with the other riders - joyous in their sense of community and fitness level.  Instead, I was rushing to catch up with actual bike riders, in cold drizzle, the victim of hills. Turns out I don't do well with hills.  I was fucked by those hills.

The night before, David and I had gone out for a ride - you know, to get my riding legs under me.  Problem was, it's spring and the midges are out.  Clouds of the little buggers - all having sex in mid-air and choking any idiot who desires a large breath, if say, you are winded by riding a bike for the first time in a year.  We were out for approximately 7 minutes.  Not one of those 7 minutes involved actual hills.  Had I ridden up a hill, I would have remembered.  I would have remembered that I can't do hills on a bike.  Hills are my kryptonite.

I'm fit - I do cardio every single day.  I power walk - even up hills.  I could manage, I thought.  I tried to 'tough it out' and tackled the first hill.  My angina?  Started the third pedal up that fucker.  The second hill I got off the bike 3/4 of the way up.  The third I got off 1/2 way up...  The last major hill?  I started walking at the bottom but still had people thinking I might have a heart attack.  Apparently, I stumbled as I was just walking my bike.  Given that David was driving the babysitting pace truck behind me, I'm surprised that he didn't load me into the back and escort me to the ER.

Coworkers looking at me all concerned.  "You're looking a little green.  You okay?"  Is it so wrong of me to measure my achievements by successfully NOT having a heart attack? David says I should double check with my cardiologist about that. 

Crawling back on the wagon...

I was bad last weekend.  I ate bad things.  I made bad food choices. It began innocently with gluten and sugar, then devolved into potato chips, corn twists, cookies and then ended with (shudder) amusement park donuts. Although I did discover that Chester's Corn Twists...  Pretty much gluten free!  Although deep fried in oil.

My office has bags of cookies that sit by the coffee machine.  Just sitting there.  With their gluten and their sugar and their high fructose corn syrup.  By Friday last week, my willpower had finally evaporated - I couldn't fight it any longer.  I HAD to have the Chips Ahoy cookies.  Which really pissed me off because Chips Ahoy cookies are nothing but crap.  But then I discovered that there was a leftover bag of No-Name chocolate covered almonds!!  Of course I discovered that after I'd already eaten a couple, okay 4, of the crappy Chips Ahoy.  The chocolate covered almonds were MUCH better.

Problem is, once your body has had the gluten and the sugar - you're off the wagon.  WAY off.  This shit must store in your cells, because as soon as it's back in your system - you get high and then you crash.  And it's a BAD crash.  It's a crash that makes you weepy and doubt your value in the universe, kind of crash.

This week has seen me desperately avoiding those cookies by the coffee machine and having a little extra stevia in my caffeine-free coffee with soy milk.  Mmmmmmmm...  Oh yeah, it's as good as it sounds.  For dessert I'm doing the frozen mango pieces - thank God for frozen mango pieces.  And instead of having that Rusty Nail... crap, just typing it now makes me want one... I'm having club soda with lime juice.   One day at a time, right?  I'm sitting my ass back on that wagon and revelling in its Radio Flyer rails and smooth ride. One day at a time.  I can do this.