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Ask me how I feel today…

Go on, I dare you! Ask me how I feel!

Well, since you ask… I am streaming with a cold, my head is congested, I am sneezing non-stop, and because of my upcoming wedding, I am stressed to the hilt.

And yet…

I feel GREAT!!!

So I have a cold. But it’s only a cold. I don’t have cancer, or multiple sclerosis, or HIV.

So I’m too sick to run right now, and will quite possibly have to miss my race this weekend. But I have two legs that work, and I am physically fit, and I will run again when this cold is gone. I have it way easier than my amazing friend Fran, who has become a runner despite the fact that she lives with cystic fibrosis.

And OK, it’s still a little chilly for my liking, and we’re still getting the odd snowfall in late March. But I live in Canada, not Iraq or Afghanistan or Libya, and all we get falling out of the sky is snow and rain, not bullets.

When I go outside, I have to wear a coat. When people in Japan go out, they have to wear masks to avoid inhaling dust from earthquake and tsumani debris, and they have to worry about radiaion poisoning.

I am stressed from wedding planning. I know people who are stressed from divorce, and other people, like my Mom, who grieve for their soulmates who are no longer here.

While we’re on the subject, every day I grieve for the wonderful Dad who raised me. I have a friend who grew up without a true Dad, but with a child rapist who happened to be her father by biology only.

I spend two hours a day commuting, and there are days when it becomes overwhelming. But I have a job to commute to. I can afford to feed my family and buy birthday presents for my children.

It is true, I do have a child with autism, and every day brings its own unique challenges. But I have my kids, and every time I hug them I think of my other amazing friend Amy, who sat at her baby’s bedside for five months before cradling him in her arms as he died.

So how do I feel?

I’d say my life is pretty darned good, and I am truly grateful for what I have.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hurricanemaine/3429008592/)

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Ask me how I feel today…

Go on, I dare you! Ask me how I feel!

Well, since you ask… I am streaming with a cold, my head is congested, I am sneezing non-stop, and because of my upcoming wedding, I am stressed to the hilt.

And yet…

I feel GREAT!!!

So I have a cold. But it’s only a cold. I don’t have cancer, or multiple sclerosis, or HIV.

So I’m too sick to run right now, and will quite possibly have to miss my race this weekend. But I have two legs that work, and I am physically fit, and I will run again when this cold is gone. I have it way easier than my amazing friend Fran, who has become a runner despite the fact that she lives with cystic fibrosis.

And OK, it’s still a little chilly for my liking, and we’re still getting the odd snowfall in late March. But I live in Canada, not Iraq or Afghanistan or Libya, and all we get falling out of the sky is snow and rain, not bullets.

When I go outside, I have to wear a coat. When people in Japan go out, they have to wear masks to avoid inhaling dust from earthquake and tsumani debris, and they have to worry about radiaion poisoning.

I am stressed from wedding planning. I know people who are stressed from divorce, and other people, like my Mom, who grieve for their soulmates who are no longer here.

While we’re on the subject, every day I grieve for the wonderful Dad who raised me. I have a friend who grew up without a true Dad, but with a child rapist who happened to be her father by biology only.

I spend two hours a day commuting, and there are days when it becomes overwhelming. But I have a job to commute to. I can afford to feed my family and buy birthday presents for my children.

It is true, I do have a child with autism, and every day brings its own unique challenges. But I have my kids, and every time I hug them I think of my other amazing friend Amy, who sat at her baby’s bedside for five months before cradling him in her arms as he died.

So how do I feel?

I’d say my life is pretty darned good, and I am truly grateful for what I have.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/hurricanemaine/3429008592/)

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33 Days

33 days to go.

It’s all coming up so quickly. 33 days until I tie the knot with my beloved, and there’s still so much to be done.

Decor and flowers to be arranged.

Hair to be arranged after my hairdresser backed out.

Cake to be arranged after my probable cake person backed out.

Limo service to be arranged.

Guest favours to be sorted out.

Wedding night hotel to be booked.

Child-related logistics to be sorted out…

Seating charts to be done and place cards to be printed.

And that’s just the stuff that I can remember off the top of my head. It doesn’t count all of the stuff that I have no doubt not thought about…

I can do this. Of course I can.

33 days is plenty of time.

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33 Days

33 days to go.

It’s all coming up so quickly. 33 days until I tie the knot with my beloved, and there’s still so much to be done.

Decor and flowers to be arranged.

Hair to be arranged after my hairdresser backed out.

Cake to be arranged after my probable cake person backed out.

Limo service to be arranged.

Guest favours to be sorted out.

Wedding night hotel to be booked.

Child-related logistics to be sorted out…

Seating charts to be done and place cards to be printed.

And that’s just the stuff that I can remember off the top of my head. It doesn’t count all of the stuff that I have no doubt not thought about…

I can do this. Of course I can.

33 days is plenty of time.

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It’s My Blog And I’ll Cry If I Want To

Yesterday I received an email that was very upsetting. It was not upsetting in an earth-shattering kind of way, but it was one of those messages that creates an uncomfortable feeling. The email was fraught with emotion and drama that I found unwarranted for the circumstances. The tone was angry and the message was negative.

I simmered. After I had simmered for a while, I responded to the email. I would describe the tone of my response as “controlled anger”. I felt that I needed to let my correspondent know that I was angry and why, but I did not want to be insulting or rude. Having re-read both the original email and my reply, I believe that my response was reasonable.

Later in the day, a  mutual friend told me that the email had been sent to me in response to a remark I had made in yesterday’s blog post.

I confess that I was, and still am, mystified. I did not say anything derogatory or inflammatory, I did not say anything that this person did not already know, and I did not even refer to this person, either by name or by reference. I made a passing reference to something the individual had quoted me on for my wedding. I did not say anything bad about the quote. I did not even mention the quote.

My comment was, at worst, an oblique reference that drew one hell of a knee-jerk reaction. I am absolutely clear that there was nothing insulting in there. And again, I did not say anything that the person was not already aware of.

I was bothered by all of this, but to be fair, I was bothered by a number of things yesterday. This was just one stressor of many. I mentioned the incident to a friend last night during a Skype chat, and she suggested that maybe I should be careful about the wedding-related stuff I post in my blog, just in case someone involved in the wedding planning reads it and gets offended.

I value the opinions of my friends, but I have to respectfully disagree with that one. For a start, I am always aware of what I am posting. I try my utmost to never post anything that could be construed as offensive, malicious, derogatory or discriminatory. I’m just not that kind of person. I am, however, human, and I do remember one occasion on which I posted something that offended someone. I could see why the person might get offended, even though that was not my intent, and I apologized. The following day I posted a clarification and an apology. Both were accepted. No harm done.

This isn’t the same, though. I do not feel that any apology is in order. I did not say anything bad about any individual, group of individuals, profession, race, religion, anything. I made a passing reference while I was venting about the stress of wedding planning.

I feel completely OK about the fact that I was venting. I am using my God-given right, as a bride who is less than six weeks away from her wedding, to be stressed.

If I want to vent here on my blog, I will. I am not going to start walking on egg-shells on the off-chance that someone might blow a fuse at a general reference that is not insulting and does not even refer to them.

If, by chance, I do say something that offends you, please let me know nicely. If I feel that I have wronged someone, even without meaning to, I am completely fine with making a public apology. I’m a big girl. I can take responsibility for the things I say.

All I ask is that you be nice.

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It’s My Blog And I’ll Cry If I Want To

Yesterday I received an email that was very upsetting. It was not upsetting in an earth-shattering kind of way, but it was one of those messages that creates an uncomfortable feeling. The email was fraught with emotion and drama that I found unwarranted for the circumstances. The tone was angry and the message was negative.

I simmered. After I had simmered for a while, I responded to the email. I would describe the tone of my response as “controlled anger”. I felt that I needed to let my correspondent know that I was angry and why, but I did not want to be insulting or rude. Having re-read both the original email and my reply, I believe that my response was reasonable.

Later in the day, a  mutual friend told me that the email had been sent to me in response to a remark I had made in yesterday’s blog post.

I confess that I was, and still am, mystified. I did not say anything derogatory or inflammatory, I did not say anything that this person did not already know, and I did not even refer to this person, either by name or by reference. I made a passing reference to something the individual had quoted me on for my wedding. I did not say anything bad about the quote. I did not even mention the quote.

My comment was, at worst, an oblique reference that drew one hell of a knee-jerk reaction. I am absolutely clear that there was nothing insulting in there. And again, I did not say anything that the person was not already aware of.

I was bothered by all of this, but to be fair, I was bothered by a number of things yesterday. This was just one stressor of many. I mentioned the incident to a friend last night during a Skype chat, and she suggested that maybe I should be careful about the wedding-related stuff I post in my blog, just in case someone involved in the wedding planning reads it and gets offended.

I value the opinions of my friends, but I have to respectfully disagree with that one. For a start, I am always aware of what I am posting. I try my utmost to never post anything that could be construed as offensive, malicious, derogatory or discriminatory. I’m just not that kind of person. I am, however, human, and I do remember one occasion on which I posted something that offended someone. I could see why the person might get offended, even though that was not my intent, and I apologized. The following day I posted a clarification and an apology. Both were accepted. No harm done.

This isn’t the same, though. I do not feel that any apology is in order. I did not say anything bad about any individual, group of individuals, profession, race, religion, anything. I made a passing reference while I was venting about the stress of wedding planning.

I feel completely OK about the fact that I was venting. I am using my God-given right, as a bride who is less than six weeks away from her wedding, to be stressed.

If I want to vent here on my blog, I will. I am not going to start walking on egg-shells on the off-chance that someone might blow a fuse at a general reference that is not insulting and does not even refer to them.

If, by chance, I do say something that offends you, please let me know nicely. If I feel that I have wronged someone, even without meaning to, I am completely fine with making a public apology. I’m a big girl. I can take responsibility for the things I say.

All I ask is that you be nice.

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In Six Weeks It Won’t Matter

Yesterday – horror of horrors – I did not post to my blog. That’s right folks, I missed a day in my post-a-day challenge. But fear not – I have enough extra posts racked up to provide me with a buffer for those days when I just have too much going on. But still, going for a day with no posts does not sit well with me. It makes me feel uncomfortable and ill at ease, like when someone has moved my running shoes from their spot by the front door.

Most of my time yesterday was taken up by wedding planning. I had arranged for my maid-of-honour Michelle to come by for a makeup trial. Due to a combination of circumstances, my makeup lady was unable to come as arranged, but she had visited the previous day and left me with some samples. I considered telling Michelle that she didn’t need to come, but changed my mind because I still needed her to look at the samples, and I just wanted to see her and hang out with her for a while.

She arrived right on schedule, bearing gifts of coffee and donuts. I showed her the samples and we decided on makeup colours, and then we went through my never-ending checklist of stuff that needs to be done.

We celebrated the fact that everyone’s clothing has been sorted out, bar the fittings and measurements. We lamented the fact that my potential hairdresser had not yet responded to my messages.

We were happy about the fact that we have a confirmed DJ, and we’re pretty confident about the photography and videography. We stressed about the fact that we don’t have our transportation for the day sorted out.

We have a makeup artist for the day, but for cost reasons, I have to revisit the question of the cake.

The church and hall and booked and confirmed, but we have yet to think about flowers and decor.

For everything that’s been done, there seems to be something that’s still outstanding.

Who knew that wedding planning could be so involved?

It’s all very stressful.

To relieve some of the stress, I went for a run after Michelle had left. It was a tough run at a brisk pace, and included a big fat hill right at the end. By the time I got home I was so exhausted, and my legs were protesting so much, that I forgot all about the stress of wedding planning.

It is so strange to think that six weeks from now it will all be over, and none of this stress will matter anymore.

As long as great memories are made, it will all be worthwhile.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/shelleyp/833463719)

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In Six Weeks It Won’t Matter

Yesterday – horror of horrors – I did not post to my blog. That’s right folks, I missed a day in my post-a-day challenge. But fear not – I have enough extra posts racked up to provide me with a buffer for those days when I just have too much going on. But still, going for a day with no posts does not sit well with me. It makes me feel uncomfortable and ill at ease, like when someone has moved my running shoes from their spot by the front door.

Most of my time yesterday was taken up by wedding planning. I had arranged for my maid-of-honour Michelle to come by for a makeup trial. Due to a combination of circumstances, my makeup lady was unable to come as arranged, but she had visited the previous day and left me with some samples. I considered telling Michelle that she didn’t need to come, but changed my mind because I still needed her to look at the samples, and I just wanted to see her and hang out with her for a while.

She arrived right on schedule, bearing gifts of coffee and donuts. I showed her the samples and we decided on makeup colours, and then we went through my never-ending checklist of stuff that needs to be done.

We celebrated the fact that everyone’s clothing has been sorted out, bar the fittings and measurements. We lamented the fact that my potential hairdresser had not yet responded to my messages.

We were happy about the fact that we have a confirmed DJ, and we’re pretty confident about the photography and videography. We stressed about the fact that we don’t have our transportation for the day sorted out.

We have a makeup artist for the day, but for cost reasons, I have to revisit the question of the cake.

The church and hall and booked and confirmed, but we have yet to think about flowers and decor.

For everything that’s been done, there seems to be something that’s still outstanding.

Who knew that wedding planning could be so involved?

It’s all very stressful.

To relieve some of the stress, I went for a run after Michelle had left. It was a tough run at a brisk pace, and included a big fat hill right at the end. By the time I got home I was so exhausted, and my legs were protesting so much, that I forgot all about the stress of wedding planning.

It is so strange to think that six weeks from now it will all be over, and none of this stress will matter anymore.

As long as great memories are made, it will all be worthwhile.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/shelleyp/833463719)

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Wedding Planning Worries

I have discovered an odd parallel between wedding planning and parenting. With both, you always have something to worry about, but the particular worries change and evolve depending on what stage you are in.

For instance, I look back on the day I first brought George home from the hospital. There I was, a new Mom with this ridiculously small human being who looked so fragile. I was terrified that I’d break him, that something bad would happen just because I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.

When it became apparent that I actually had the ability to keep him alive, I started worrying about different things. Was he sleeping enough? Was I feeding him the right stuff? What did that rash on his face mean? How did I know whether or not to worry about a fever?

Then James came along and brought with him a whole new set of worries. Now, I worry about stuff like sibling relationships, whether the boys are happy at school, and how to keep up with the fact that they seem to outgrow their shoes within the first ten minutes of owning them.

A year from now, I will no doubt be stressing about something else.

It’s been much the same with my wedding planning.

Right in the beginning, I was focused on getting the reception hall booked. I figured that as long as we had a place to party, nothing else would really matter. It took us a long time to commit to a hall, and throughout the whole selection process I was stressed to the hilt and being pulled in different directions by different people who wanted different things.

The moment we paid the deposit on the hall, a weight lifted from my mind. But soon another one settled there: the weight regarding my dress. A long story, the dress was. It involved a promise from my soon-to-be mother-in-law to make it, a retraction of said promise, and an argument before the promise was reinstated. There were discussions about whether or not I would wear a veil, and these discussions were more heated than one might expect.  Eventually, my wishes prevailed (and why shouldn’t they?) and it is now known by all concerned that I will not be wearing a veil.

Then I started to panic about the shoes. I had to go on several shoe-shopping trips, and I hated every one of them, because – well, I hate shoe-shopping. Just as I was starting to think that I would have to wear my battered running shoes to my wedding, I found a pair of shoes that I love.

Okay. Deep, soothing breaths.

When the shoes were sorted, it was time to worry about the guest list and the invitations. This caused me no end of stress. Initially I was going to keep it simple. I got plain but elegant stationery to print the invitations on, I had the invitations designed and I was just about to print them when…

…the hub-to-be announced that we should have a theme for the wedding.

It’s a great theme, I have to confess. I’m glad we’re going with it. But it meant that we had to change what we were doing with the invitations, and as a result they went out ten days later than I would have liked. But they went out, and all credit to Gerard, they are really nice.

We have a makeup person.

We have a DJ.

Everyone’s clothing has been sorted out.

Now, I guess because I actually have the time to worry about it, I have a new worry.

Who is going to do my hair?

I already know what my next worry after this one will be, but for now, I’m going to focus on the hair.

I can only worry about one wedding-related thing at a time, otherwise my head might just implode.

(Photo credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/saffy_suppi/4958417528)

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Wonder Woman Wannabe

I woke up early this morning and started making a list of everything I hope to accomplish today.It is a daunting list, and I have just figured out why.

My wedding day coincides with the deadline for filing tax returns.

That is why I find myself having to organize tax documents for myself and Gerard, do bookkeeping for two businesses, and prepare and file an HST return, which is a headache in itself, all while I am printing off address labels and wedding invitation reply cards, stuffing envelopes, conjuring up missing addresses from thin air, following up on people who owe me quotes, and attempting to stay sane.

At the same time, there are other things that I have promised to do today – promises that I have made either to myself or my kids.

I promised James that we could make bread. He received a real chef’s hat at a school field trip a while back, and he takes great pride in wearing it while he helps me bake (I realize that that last statement makes me sound like Martha Stewart, but in reality, my baking happens about as frequently as a lunar eclipse).

I promised George that I would make up some math worksheets for him. The kid has a love and aptitude for numbers that is just staggering, and he cannot get enough of the worksheets. He has already completed all of the spare ones I had a home, so I have to make him some more.

I promised myself that I would bid on all of the writing jobs that are in my watch list. I have worked out that I can make a fair amount of extra cash during my daily commutes, but that’s not going to happen if I don’t bid for the jobs. I will lose some, but I will hopefully win some. Who knows where this might lead?

Before I do any of this, I have to take a shower, load the dishwasher, and throw a load of laundry into the washing machine.

I have to go now. I need to look for my Insane Wonder Woman suit.