Funny Thoughts

Welcome to Heaven…

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Heaven.  My parents were Roman Catholic so heaven was the place where God lived with (the Virgin) Mary on one side and Jesus (his Son) on the other.  Heaven.  The place where there was no pain.  Everyone was happy.  There was no anger.  No jealousy.  Nothing bad. I think I summed up that theory of heaven.  Sorry if I offended anyone, but this is just my theory and version on this topic.

I have actually studied many religions because I was curious.  After high school I decided to major in history.   Wiseguy loves to quiz me all the time about historical facts.  FAIL.  (Why are the years so important in history?  I know, some historian right?)  I LOVE history just because of the drama and social aspects in all the his-stories. 

Anyway, let’s return to the taboo topic of religion.  Being brought up RC I went to church every sunday.  I was a soprano in the choir.  At the age of 14, I wanted to be Mother Teresa.  Honest.  However, meeting boys kind of changed that.  They were cute and I loved to danced and MT never really did that did she?  So, my goal was just to be a good person.  Yup, that should do it for my RC soul.

In keeping in line with “being a good person” I was very open about many things.  My parents (bless their hearts) believed that “birds of a feather MUST flock together”.  So, keep the same heritage / religion when you are looking at potential dates.  The awful teenager that I was, I decided to date someone of the Muslim persuasion.  Ouch!  It was more based on personality and not religion, but I really learned a lot . I actually read the Koran (Quran), took notes, asked the boy questions about stuff I read.  The one thing I learned (which I think is the most important thing I ever learned) is that rumours and the unknown breed fear.  Not to mention that scriptures taken out of context (as is the case with many writings) can really do a bang up job in creating and breeding fear in any society.

Each religion (and there are many) talk about love and forgiveness.  They talk about patience and understanding and loving.  So, my amusement has always been that anytime there is a war, and “God’s people” are brought up, I can’t help but feel happy and sad at the same time.  Really, I don’t want to stir the pot (I am a peace-loving person after all), but after studying ALL religions (honestly…ALL religions…even the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster) the basic message in each is:   love and understanding and inner peace and community.  How shooting other people was derived from THAT message baffles me.  

My blog today is not a lecture.  In my opinion (yes, opinion) I believe that every religion is right.  I also believe every religion is wrong.  Weird right?  But I strongly believe that if we followed the basics of any religion, we would actually be happy.  Every religion  believes in a higher power.  Each one believes that we must love ourselves and by accomplishing this feat, we can and will love everyone around us.   Love and forgiveness leads to happiness.  That is the root of every religion.  If we mixed up all religions with only the parts on love, kindness, tolerance and discarded the parts on how to dress and who can beat whom and who goes to heaven and who doesn’t, then I believe the most perfect religion would exist.

Today I think it is important to realize how important loving yourself is.  It’s not about being a narcissist.  I believe that when you stop looking at what others have that you do not, you can start to appreciate what “wonderfulness” you have in your life and in yourself.  When you feel that beauty inside you, that rose-coloured world returns and life starts feeling and looking good again.  THAT world is a beautiful place to live in.  The more happiness and joy you emanate, the more the same kind of happiness is attracted to you.  You are amazing and beautiful and wonderful.  Once you appreciate what you really have and stop concentrating on what you believe you are missing, you will have a clear path to that wonderful place.  Welcome to Heaven!  That happy place where there is no pain, anger, jealousy.  Just lots of Happiness and Love. (Right John?)

The Next Generation..

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Nope, not talking about Star Trek in case that is what you were thinking this is about.  I have been in the midst of assisting my niece with her wedding which will happen in a couple of weeks.  This weekend I shall be attending another family wedding (second cousin).  Next year will be an exciting time as well as we have two family weddings that will be full of nervousness and adventure as The Debater and The Artist shall have their much awaited nuptuals in the spring…April to be exact.  Then The Wiz and The Baker shall be enjoying their fall wedding in October.  Yesterday, on a long drive home from my niece’s place, I thought about all these beautiful youngsters (ahem…adults) and what the Next Generation is going to be like.

In the eyes of parents, it doesn’t matter how old your child is, that child is always about 5-7 years old in your eyes.  From birth, you watch them, you teach them, you correct them, you encourage them, you praise them, you give them grief and they give you grief back.  It’s the way of the world with parents and children.  Even once they have their own kids, you watch them and encourage them in their parenting and you are so proud as you observe the blossoming growth of your grandchildren.  You watch them nurturing their children, teaching and educating them and having that beaming pride look when their youngsters do something and achieve something on their own. 

This weekend we were watching The Princess and Little Kennie run around and laugh and giggle.  Kennie is going to be two years old in a couple of weeks.  We have noticed over the last little while that, besides imitating and mimicking what we say, she has learned how to vary intonation in her wording.  She came up to a little statue that we have and said, “Hi Princess.”  Where did she come up with that?  Yes, Little Kennie is growing up and getting an identity of her own.

As parents, we get annoyed with OUR parents when they treat us as if we don’t know things.  We will try to do something and suddenly we are doing it wrong.  We are adults with lives of our own and children of our own.  I am now beginning to understand this challenge. Your kids are always your kids no matter how old they are.  If they run into hardships you want to jump in and put a bandage on it by helping out in some way.  You want them to be healthy and happy and you would give your own life to make sure that they would never have to suffer. 

I realize now that sitting back and watching is something that, as a parent, is of one the hardest things to do.  Before I jump in with “the answer” I think about how I would feel if FIL or one of my parents came and pointed out if I was doing something wrong or instructing me on what would be better.  Would I appreciate the interruption and the advice or would I just wish that they let me do things on my own?  Yes, that is how I am learning to become a better parent. 

Being a parent of small, crying babies, older people would always say, “Oh, this is easy, wait until they are older.”  What?  At least then you would be able to sleep all night right?  Wrong…you hit the teenage years and oh my…you just wish that you could jump ahead 5 years and get over that hump in their lives.  Dealing with their right to independent lives while you struggle to keep order and sensibility in their lives.  AAAAGHHH!  You sleep even less then as they are going out with friends and coming home at two in the morning.  You actually get even less sleep than you did when they were newborns.  Really, if you survive that you can survive anything right?  Well, then they become adults…in years only.  They will always be your children.  Now you have to learn patience and have them learn adult things on their own.  Sure, you will be there when they need you, but sometimes the adult growth pains are even harder to watch than the bumps and scratches they got as kids.  There is no magic bandage or salve to fix some things and all you can do is sit back, watch, and hope that things you taught them will help them figure out the trivia of adult life.  If you are really lucky, you can actually sleep and not worry too much about it.

Yes, this may seem like a sad or depressing topic, but it is actually quite heartwarming in my mind.  I have learned much about being a parent of adults (oops…almost said adult children).  There is a wonderful sense of happiness and pride when you see how happy they are in their lives.  They live, they laugh, they love.  Sure, there are bumps in the road, but having those bumps makes them appreciate the repaved roads of life that are smooth and wonderfully happy.  The wonderful homes.  The great nights out full of fun.  The family get togethers where everyone laughs about silly things they used to do because, at this age, you can laugh about the silly childhood things that were done.  They are now adults, those were funny stories.

I am so happy and proud to be able to take a deep breath, sit back, and watch our wonderful future society unfold.  We wll have with such amazing new adults in it.  This is the next generation and it looks beautiful.

Equality for men and women…and a pair of shoes

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I was just pondering this morning how much I love being a woman!  No really, I do.  I love being able to dress up and feel fantastic about myself.  I love when my hair turns out just the way I want it to.  I love it when I actually get my eyeliner on evenly on both eyes (unlike the one morning that I got interrupted and then FORGOT to complete the process…yikes!).  I LOVE…no, I OBSESS about shoe shopping!  I love gabbing and texting and emailing all my lady friends.  Now when it comes to equality, I am sure that NO man would want to be a woman’s equal.

I do realize that there are some negatives in being a woman.  Childbirth.  Yikes!  Numero uno for pain factor, but the beauty of a baby and knowing that you carried that little, helpless, child is just a miracle.  (Really, if men had to do it, every family would have only one child…that’s my theory.)  The monthly bloat visitor…yes necessary for the eventual finality of creating that bouncing, bundle of joy.  (But really, why couldn’t it last 5 minutes and let us get on with our lives?)  In many cases, it is still the designated task of women for the upkeep of a few things, namely:  child, husband, household.  Really, just three things right?  And ladies, I do believe that whenever we assign said tasks to either children or spouses they purposely do not complete the tasks to our liking so that we end up hanging onto these chores and then lovingly complain about them over glasses of wine and takeout food.  Really, where else would we get all of our interesting tales from if not from everyday life?

Men say women gossip.  They believe that the re-telling of any tale told by another female is automatically gossip.  Well, here is the definition of gossip:  Casual or unconstrained conversation or reports about other people, typically involving details that are not confirmed as being true.  Honestly, most of my female companions confirm the details before sharing any narrative.  The truth is usually waaaaay better and more interesting than any lie you could make up.

I do recall reading somewhere that the circle of women and companionship began back in caveman days.  Men would go hunting and gathering food and the women would stay home, watching their offspring, cooking meals and basically being bored with life.  I am sure one cavewoman suddenly poofed and THAT led to the beginning of women and conversation.  One cavewoman “ugged” to another cavewoman…(a whispered “ug” of course).  Basically what she said in one quick “ug” was “can-you-believe-her-and-how-she-contaminated-our-living-space.”  Yes, I am sure it went down something like that.  Once the men got back, the women shared their tale of woe.  The men laughed and laughed.  The women became divided.  Suddenly the men were getting the cold shoulder from their women folk.  They didn’t know why.  Body poofs are hilariously funny!  The men cracked them off all the time and they kept telling their cavewomen that they should be laughing.  They really couldn’t understand what the problem was.  Then the men hunted more and stayed away from the caves more.  Some of the cavemen had to find new caves because now some of the women didn’t want to stay with the “Poofer” cavewoman or her friends.

You know those cave paintings that you see today?  The ones with all the buffalo and the hunters throwing arrows?  Well, that was the caveman’s cry for help.  Those drawings don’t mean “we hunted buffalo today”.  What they are really trying to tell us is:  “I would rather go out and hunt and get gored by a buffalo than listen to the complaints of women.”

Men and women definitely look at and understand things differently.  If you ask a man what he is thinking about and he says nothing, well, he really means he is thinking of nothing.  If you ask a woman, she will SAY, “Nothing,” but she has so much on her mind and it’s up to you to keep asking until you discover the magic word that will unlock the flood of thoughts that she has going on up there.  Men usually deal with situations as they come up.  Women, will have a situation, they will think of the outcome (many different endings mind you) in order to proactively come up with the best possible ending.  True?  Yes, it is.

Why do women do this?  Well, it goes right back to having to take care of three things:  Children, husband, home.  Take care of those three things, squeeze in jobs outside of the home, and you have the life of a woman in a nutshell.  One big, monstrous, huge nutshell, but a nutshell nonetheless.  So much to think about.  So much to keep organized.  So much to plan and preplan in order to keep this well-oiled machine of life running smoothly.

So men, we do realize that you work hard too.  We appreciate you very much.  We also appreciate when you do notice and thank us for the jobs that WE do.  We love you and we will take care of you.  (Even if you can take of yourselves, we don’t think you are qualified to do it properly or well enough).

Equality for women and men?  Not sure if it will ever happen.  Definition of equality is:  The state of being equal, esp. in status, rights, and opportunities.

Right now, I believe I have the right and the opportunity to buy a cute pair of shoes.  (Men, you really don’t understand the special status you would need to experience that kind of state of equality.

Living the Life

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Well, I am so sorry for disappointing my regular blog followers.  Life has been quite invigorating for me lately.  Finding time to sit down and put my thoughts into words and into a newly entertaining blog, became quite a challenge.  I had to take my pick of what I should do.  Should I spend lots of time with The Princess and Little Kennie or write my blog?  Should I visit my niece in her new house and break bread with her or strap myself to my laptop?  Should I hang out with my visiting family from out-of-town, or should I hide away and start madly typing away?  Don’t get me wrong.  I love blogging, but sometimes real life escapes us because we are busy connecting with “web” people instead of spending time with those people who are around us.

So, last week, I referred to every day as a write-off, but in reality, it was only a vacation away from my trusty laptop.  It sat there, resting and charging everyday, while I was playing tag with Little Kennie and hanging out with The Princess.  Its little charge light was blinking away while I was in absentia visiting Monkey Breath at her new home.  (hmmm, maybe one day I shall rename her, but some nicknames just have to follow you through life.  Bwahaha!)  Upon return from my day trip, I joined my visiting family from Ottawa.  We sat outside, beads of sweat dripping from our faces, as we joked and laughed into the night.  My laptop?  It was not to be seen in my hands.

Don’t get my wrong, I typed little notes into my iPhone of incredible ideas for future tales.  Although socializing is great fun, my A.D.D. brain just seems to run its own course when there is a pause in conversation or when someone brings up a situation that just gets my mind off and running to that “writer’s idea” brain of mine.  I love to write.  I love to share tales.  At night, when I went exhausted to bed, my mind would still motor on with ideas, but my energy level would not let me stay up to type up these ingenious thoughts.

The next day I did feel guilty about not writing.  My body, however, was grateful that I got my eight hours sleep.  I would like to be able to get only 6 hours sleep and function like my normal self.  Sadly, this is not to be.  I have learned that I need to trust what my body is telling me.  If I miss that one hour that brings me to the magic 8 hour number, then quite a rebellion goes on.  The Yawn Monster just won’t leave me alone.  Just as the Red Eye Itch Developer goes to work basically blinding me with burning eyeballs. (Yes, I am a Drama Queen in case you hadn’t noticed already).

So, here I sit, all rejuvenated and happily clicking my keyboard keys with my thoughts of the day.  I am really enjoying spending all this time with family and friends.  I have even booked a dinner date with my cousins for a hang out night.  Very exciting!  I shall be traveling to a celebration this weekend.  I have a dinner date at a chinese restaurant tonight with my aunt and The Princess and Little Kennie.  I have an out-of-town lunch and shopping date with The Artist and her visiting sister.  How exciting can my life get?

So many people to joke with.  So many people to share stories with.  So many people who make me realize how great my life is and how much I am grateful to have them all in my life.  I am honoured that they are willing to spend their precious time with me as well.  I love them all.  I appreciate them all.  I wouldn’t change my busy lifestyle right now for anything in the world.  I also really value those who read my crazy thoughts and check daily to see what insane new thing I shall be writing about.  Thank you so much. 

If, however, you find that there might be nothing new posted…have no fear.  I shall return to type another day!  

I think I shall find a way to create a visual message on my blog…sort of like an answering machine.  It would say something like:  You have reached Maryann’s Life.  I am not here right now.  Please feel free to peruse past posts.  I shall return to entertain you another day.  www.Maryannslife.com  is out living Maryann’s life.  I hope you are going out and enjoying your life too.  ♥

Awww, that kid’s stuff…

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Last night I got to thinking about how different each generation’s childhood was.  I was watching commercials that showed educational toys for toddlers.  There were some for video games.  There were some for swimming pools.  Kids these days have so many purchasable options that we adults can get for them.  What did we have when we were kids?  What did my parents have when they were kids?  What types of games were played?

My parents remember how hard they had to work around the farm and the household because there were so many kids (9 and 8 kids per family respectively).  They had to bring water from the well (no plumbing).  As they got older, they would take items to the market (eggs, butter, cheese) to sell so that they could buy other items like thread and yarn or salt and other seasonings.  This was because the parents and grandparents would either be watching the newest babies or were working in the garden.  At that time (about 50 years ago) the older kids were also the ones that took care of the sheep and the goats or cows.  They would take them out to a lovely pasture to graze.  School…well, you didn’t stay in school long…maybe grade 3 or up to grade 5  because there was much work to do at home.  Didn’t sound like much of a childhood to me, but my mother swears there were good times too.

I recall my mother laughing and telling me about the games they played.  There was no tv to watch.  They would read books.  They would play jacks.  They would sing songs and dance.  They played tag.  Then there was the typical tree climbing and rock climbing adventures (you just had to watch for snakes).  There was juggling (rocks…and hope it didn’t land on your head).  Oh, they learned how to whistle grass.  Now some of those I do recall doing in my childhood as well, but my generation, well we had different games.  (Mostly because we didn’t live in a village and had no livestock.)

Now, this is oftentimes the best way to find out how old someone is.  Here is a list of games that we used to play as kids (my age and those 10 years older) played:

Now, if you can recall any of these games (feel free to follow the link to see what kind of fun I’m talking about) then you are about my age or maybe 5 years younger.  If not, then you are of a much younger generation where video games were starting to become more popular.  Good ol’ Atari and Intellivision.  Barbie was getting super hip and getting a lot more cars and campers and airplanes.  Boy’s toys were getting more cool too.  The absolutely amazing Big Wheel.  How about Stretch Armstrong?

Anyway, I digress.  I love going down memory lane.  The older I get the happier my childhood memories are.  You really only remember the good ol’ days.  I’m sure the games that I used to love to play shall be making a comeback.  Why?  Because it’s not “old stuff”, it’s called “retro” and retro is always cool. 

So, when Little Kennie gets a little order, I will show her what a cool and hip grandma I am because I am “old” enough to know all these cool “retro” games that no one else knows. 

Anyone up for a game of Red Rover.  Now that’s what I call kid’s stuff!

Puppy love…

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Let me tell you about puppy love.  Her name is Lucy.  Bet you thought I was going to talk about young love.  Although crushes and the youth dating scene is quite intriguing, I am going to tell you about my puppy love. 

I have two puppy loves.  Waldo, my first puppy is now 4 and Lucy is 3 years old.  Both are shi-poos.  We call them “puppy” all the time because they are small.  Well, actually, Waldo is over 20 lbs, but little Lucy is a meer 10 lbs.  My story shall continue with puppy love Lucy and all the excitement in her life to date.

We got her at 7 weeks when she was just a wee, bitty furball.  Her little, hairy body was white and her head was covered in black hair.  Very funny because whenever she sat down, she looked like a defective snowman.  From the first visit to the veterinarian, we heard that her one leg was clicking and we could operate later to have it fixed.  (Well, she runs like the wind now and our theory is, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.)  After 3 months of having Lucy at home, I noticed one day that her eyes were watering.  Hmmmm, that was odd.  I monitored it and by the next day it got worse.  We decided it was time to visit the vet and see what was going on.  Well, our usual vet was on vacation so we booked an appointment with one of the other doctor’s.  He provided me with some eye cream for her and home we went. 

So, I put this cream in her eyes, poor wee puppy.  I did this for 3 days and it didn’t seem to be getting better.  Not better at all.  We went back to the clinic and our regular doctor was there.  I told her about how I was taking a picture of Lucy running at me and I noticed that her lips were swollen and her eyes seemed like they were bugging out.  The vet handed me a few sheets of paper and said, “She has strangles.”  What the heck is strangles?  Well, she explained that strangles is a rare disease that some puppies get.  Basically the immune system goes into overdrive and if not treated, will actually lead to strangulation of the animal.  We collected our new set of pills and took puffy, puppy Lucy home again. 

Now, with Waldo, I took him to puppy training classes so he could learn to play and become a good dog.  Poor Lucy.  She was quarantined.  Her meds were so strong because basically they were killing her immune system so that her immune system wouldn’t kill her.  We were told NO being around other animals.  NO walks because she could pick up infections from the grass where other animals had been.  Poor Lucy.  So, I packed up my little 3 lb puppy and tucked her into a soft padded square lunch tote and carried her around outside so that she could see the world and hear its sounds so that she would get accustomed to them.

Three months passed and therapy was over.  YAY!  Now we could go for walks and do other fun things.  Lucy was not a good walker.  She could walk but would zig and zag between my legs and get wrapped up in Waldo’s leash.  And she barked…endless barking and barking and barking and barking at anything that passed her.  I think she has supersonic hearing.  She will start barking at nothing and then 2 minutes later we will see a bus drive by.  Well, I guess with all her other ailments something must work well.  Oh, did I mention that the reason why her eyes were always watering.  We heard from the vet that her bottom eyelashes are turned inward instead of outward so her tear ducts are constantly working.  Uh huh.  That’s the Life of Lucy.

Well, our little puppy love survived all those ailments.  She loves to play fetch.  She loves to jump around and have fun.  She loves to cuddle.  Monkey Breath calls her “old man” cause her face does look like that of an old man.  We like to call her Fang too because her underbite (yup, she has that too) leaves her one canine tooth jutting out.  Quite funny to see.

Right now, little Lucy is in surgery.  Yes it’s true.  I found her little butt swollen yesterday.  How it happened I have no idea.  Back to the vet.  This part is quite icky gross so I’ll let you read it if you would like the details.  Swollen anal gland.  Her’s ruptured.  ‘Nuff said.  So, now she is having surgery.

I am sure that in the future there will be more visits to the vets for Lucy.  Call it intuition or déjà vu.  There is one thing that amazes me about this furry little 10 lb wonder.  No matter what kinds of ailments life throws at her she always bounces back.  She runs and plays and enjoys life.  I know that animals can’t complain, but I don’t see her cowering in a corner and giving up on life.  Most of us have been through tough times in our lives where we just want out of the world and curl up into a ball and feel sorry for ourselves.  My puppy love is always loving and cuddly no matter how she feels.  When she barks she is invincible.  Every moment is enjoyed.  Even while sleeping, you will oftentimes find her on her back with her belly in the air.  Now that’s comfort.

Five years ago I would’ve thought anyone crazy to have such strong feelings about their pets.  Now I’m part of the crazy club of dog owners and loving my puppy love.

I am flabulous!

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Yes, I am flabulous!  I don’t know why or how it happens, but it seems that my lack of will, when it comes to munchies, really does a doozy on the old love handles.

Love handles…really…I have heard many phrases regarding body weight.  You now, thin may be in but fat is where it’s at.  Or Diet is Die with a T (thank you Garfield the lasagna eating cartoon cat).  How about being described as elegantly filled out.  Yes…so many nice terms.  I recall even reading about good ol’ England in the 1800s.  The larger the better.  If you were thin and tiny of build then it meant you couldn’t afford a good meal.

I myself am working on getting rid of about 30 lbs.  Yes, according to my BMI (body mass index) and according to ANY and EVERY website I have visited, my ideal weight, for someone 5 foot 5 inches and over 40 years of age should be about 140 lbs.  So, I have begun my journey to thinless…yet again.

I started rethinking my approach.  In the past, every time I started losing weight I would get all excited.  I would lower the amount of food intake.  I would eat more fruits and veggies.  I would buy “healthy” snacks…you know, those dry, dry, dry…I mean really dry….ack ack…crackers.  Last time I even kept a food journal on Fitness Pal.  Amazing to see how many calories are in the foods we eat.  Then it happens.  The weight starts coming off.  I start “cheating” on myself.  I would sneak in a bag of chips or some cookies because I was doing so well with my new eating plan (right…it’s not a diet because that word just leads to failure).  Then it would suddenly become a binge weekend with pizza and wings and nachos…oh my!  That leads to a pound or two coming back.  NO big deal right?  Then I start back to my old eating habits because I love the taste of food!  I love all the ooey gooey cheeses.  I love burgers and I love french fries and I love my pizza and my wings.  And there I go…off the rails…yet again.

Well, this time, I am trying out something new.  I am NOT giving up my favourite foods at all.  I am eating less of everything but I have added this new thing…it’s called exorcising…ahem…exercising.  (I prefer exorcising…I’m trying to purge the evil fat right?).  So, I have started using my 5 lb dummies (I mean dumb bells).  I walk the dogs an hour a day.  Very soon my Xbox shall have Jillian whats-her-name from “Biggest Loser” yelling at me.  I will learn to like sweat.

Yes, that is my newfound plan for body modification.  I believe I can do this.  I actually have dreams about my new slender, self going to the beach and looking downright goddesslike.  (Really, these happy thoughts are what are keeping me going as I look at the squishy, cuddly version of me in the mirror). 

The one thing that I have learned over the years is that no matter how thin or how “full-bodied” I get, it’s the inside that matters the most.  Sure I  love it when I lose weight, but I also don’t mind being heavier.  As long as I am happy on the inside and my family is happy, then the outside doesn’t matter as much.  I have learned that that opinions of others don’t matter as much as loving myself. 

Losing weight right now is more for health reasons…I plan to be around and playing with Little Kennie for a long time and no health problems will get in the way of that.

My journey to the Land of Sweat (and tears) will be interesting but for now, as I start my new life goal, I will remember to look in the mirror every day and say, “You look Flabulous!”