Cancer Survivor, writing about Health and Fitness as you age

I am anxious to get back to the playgroups with my Moms group, and talk with some of the other moms because I want to know what they talk to their husbands about at the end of the day. If I were to truly tell my husband what goes on with my day? Well, the conversation would be inane and irrelevant. Gunnar: "How was your day honey?" Big smile. Me: "You know the usual. Lucas got up late this morning and was crabby because he didn't have enough time to play before breakfast and Liam pulled off my tiny earring, you know, the one I was so excited about getting because I thought he wouldn't notice it, and I could wear earrings again? Anyways, he pulled it off, and I grabbed it from him and set it down so I could deal with him appropriately, and I forgot about it, but when I went back to look for it I couldn't find it. It might have gotten wiped off the table when I was cleaning, so I spent part of the day sifting through the garbage looking for it, then I looked

Liam has been in daycare now 2 times/week since May, so I have Tuesday and Thursday every week to do my thing. So far, that "thing" has been laundry, errands and some blogging. Well, my husband has reminded me, not for the first time mind you, that my weekend is Tuesday and Thursday. That came as quite a shock frankly. What? You mean I shouldn't expect you to spend all your time with them on the weekend when you are at home? Ok, I have to sit down for that and think about it. Mmmm, my weekend is not Saturday and Sunday? In some ways that might be good? My conclusions are, (well I have more, but these are the ones I can publish here), but, my conclusions are: - I need to rejigger my Tues/Thurs routine so I don't do errands or laundry or anything related to house/home or children. (In short, house is more of a mess than usual on these days...despite the fact that I am unencumbered.) - I need to rejigger my expectations of what my Saturday and Sunday look like. For

After 11 years of marriage I think my husband is having an attack of 'How well do I really know you?' He doesn't know my favourite colour, movie, song or books, but I figured it's because for 1 year of our 2-year courtship (during which one usually finds out about such things), we were on different continents. So I thought maybe I'll take a stab at a flower I like. Then I came up with 3 and I guess not surprisingly, my choices reveal something about me. Unfortunately, I don't think this will help him much except to confuse him even more. The sunflower . I like the sunflower because it stands head and shoulders above other flowers. The stalk is thick and strong and the flower is sturdy and bold. Attention-getting. The rose . The rose seems to me to be easily recognizable, accessible. You know what you're getting with a rose. It is soft, warm to look at and approachable, and on top of everything, they smell great! Can't beat sweet-smelling. (These are my M

"I asked him, 'Do you want to be my friend?' And he said 'Yes' " That's how Lucas told me he made a new friend in 2nd grade. So simple, yet indicative of Lucas as we have come to know him - outgoing, friendly, enthusiastic and brave. Yesterday was Lucas' first day of school in his new private school. It made me realize that I don't take enough time to appreciate big son (since I am busy appreciating baby son). So this is my tribute to big son. Although he was starting a new school, Lucas was his usual optimistic, excited self. Anxious to get to school and once there, was interested in his class, desk and what was going on. He is a marvel. I wish I could bottle whatever is in his personality that makes him so positive and enthusiastic, pretty much all the time. I certainly could use some of that tonic. I imagine what I would feel like if it was me - trepidation, intimidated..all manner of bad things. He is so bright and colourful that I fe

Before I went on my trip back home to Trinidad in April, my doctor told me that my cholesterol was too high, even though I am underweight for my height (or perhaps that is exactly why I have high cholesterol?) Anyway, I was supposed to go back to the doctor after I had..ahem..modified my diet. Well, if you look at the pictures of the food I ate while in Trinidad, you'll understand why I haven't been back. (Thanks to Teddy, my brother, for finally sending me the pictures.) I'm not sure how long the strategy of not going back to the doctor will work, but so far, I've been doing well using that approach. A nd here we have the very versatile doubles - good for breakfast, lunch and dinner; which is how often I tried to eat them. Made from flour that is fried with curried channa (garbanzo beans) inside and some pepper. What it looks like on the inside, revealing said channa and pepper. A bit of trivia - it used to be two separate baras making the doubles, now some ve

Sometimes the thought crosses my mind that you've been made just for me. Before this, you were dwelling somewhere in the stars; you were summoned to earth just for me... Sometimes the thought crosses my mind that this body and these eyes are kept in trust for me that the dark shadows of your hair are for my sake alone, that these lips and these arms are charged to my care... These are the first two verses (translated) of one of my mom's favourite songs- Khabi Khabie, from the movie of the same name. The song was written by poet Sahir Ludhianvi with music composed by Mohammed Zahar Khaiyamm and sung by Lata Mangeshkar and Mukesh. It is such a beautiful, soul-baring and hair-raising love song. Here is a picture of my mom surrounded by the flowers she loved, for her 60th birthday. She died 5 years later. Ironically, she never knew what the lyrics meant. Today marks 7 years since she died, but some of the things I have to be grateful for are: - We had a loving relationsh

That would be me. I wouldn't normally post something like this but I felt the time had come. I am entering freak zone and little girls (and they've all been girls so far), come up to me asking me what is wrong with my skin. My answer is that my skin isn't working right and it is losing its colour. I have vitiligo - yes, the thing that Michael Jackson had. So even though I like being in the top 1-2% of the population, this isn't at all what I had in mind. As far as "the doctors" can tell it's an autoimmune disease where my immune cells may be attacking my pigment cells, and the pigment cells are losing. For a dark-skinned person, the effect is striking. There is no cure and you may or may not respond to the existing treatments. (Lucas, my 7-year old, tells me that having another baby would help. I'm not buying it though I might be inclined to try ginko balboa.) It seems almost obscene, if not in poor-taste to make a fuss about something th