Dr. Sharma is a genius. Somehow, he made something click within me so that I FINALLY understand the connection between food and my emotions. I mean, EVERYONE knows almost EVERYONE emotionally overeats at times. And a vast majority of us, especially in this day and age — the age of STARBUCKS — are compulsive emotional eaters. I mean, seriously, tell me you ONLY eat when you’re hungry. No. Not possible. We eat when we’re physically hungry and EMOTIONALLY hungry. Or, even when we’re just plain emotional. As in my case.

This morning was not a particularly good morning for me. I woke up PISSED off. Believe it or not, this is actually part my Ayurvedic Detox. I’m SUPPOSED to feel angry and sad and anxious right now — because the doc’s cleansing me of YEARS of pent-up anger, sadness and anxiety. I mean, I’m a compulsive smiler. I don’t really DO anger…. But, it’s there. Just hidden. Not lately…. WWWATCH OUT!

Anyway, I was PISSED this morning. At everything. At everyone. So, of course, I wanted Starbucks. I thought, “There’s no way I can go to the office all PISSED off and tired and angry, and the apple and pumpkin seeds I ate for breakfast (as per my diet) simply will not do. I better go get a Starbucks.” So, I went to Starbucks. I opened the heavy glass door, looked inside, and saw the huge lineup. I then felt my stomach turn at the smell of the place and had to leave sans CHAI. I KID YOU NOT.

I got to the office, said a few quick, quiet hellos, sat down, and nibbled on some pumpkin seeds. “Not bad,” I thought, “actually not bad.”

Several meetings and conference calls later, I was FLYING. I felt great. Really happy and looking forward to seeing my little Monkeys. I thought, “I feel great right now! Actually happy!” Then I thought, “STARBUCKS!”

Apparently, I couldn’t handle the HAPPY! I NEEDED a Starbucks to mask the HAPPY! Helloooo?

That’s when it hit me. Epiphany. I can understand eating when you’re stressed out. You don’t WANT the PAIN, so you try to STUFF IT DOWN with food. I’ve always understood that. But, why would I want to stuff down HAPPY?

EPIPHANY: I cannot deal with my emotions AT ALL. The second they show up, good or bad, I freak out and run to food.

I didn’t have that chai, no. After realizing how I’ve been USING the chai, I knew I didn’t need it. I WANTED to start facing my emotions head on and to ride them out. It was definitely an AH-HAH moment!

I challenged myself to ride out the HAPPY. And it felt good.

It felt WAY better than the indigestion and heaviness I feel AFTER I drink away my joys and sorrows.

It’s ON, Emotions. I’m ready to face you head on. And, yeah. I’m ready to like you. All of you. Bring it on, Baby, Bring. It. ON!

Love!

xo Haley-O

Tomorrow (July 1st) is a holiday here in Canada. It’s Canada Day. I’m thinking I should probably TAKE the holiday. I should shut down the computer and take a DAY OFF.

But what a foreign concept! What is this thing you call “Day Off”?

Even if I DO take a day off work, there’s no getting a day off from the other obligations that have left me exhausted and depleted lately. My heart literally leaps out of my throat when I realize that there IS no taking breaks — as a mom, let alone a work-at-home mom. Regardless, I’m determined to take the break from work and enjoy my kids tomorrow.

As DIFFICULT as they’ve been amid all the changes lately, my kids truly have been amazing.

Monkey’s first day of camp was on Monday, and I CRIED, Gorgeouses. I was SO PROUD of how BRAVE she was — going to a totally new, BIG place, with NO familiar faces…. Fahklempt!

…And I was the one crying. I wasn’t prepared for tears! I who never even cried during BEACHES! What the hell am I going to be like when I send her to Kindergarten this September! Ayayai! Good thing I was wearing my Nicole-Richie-MASSIVE sunglasses when I dropped her off and watched the councelors take her inside.

And then there’s little Rascal. I went in to check on him late last night….

He stirred when the floor creaked as I approached his bed. I thought to myself, “UH OH, it’s going to be another LONG night.” But, no! He gave me this great big SMILE, stretched his li’l arm up in in the air, and then pulled himself up to KISS me THROUGH THE CRIB BARS! Sweet!? And, THEN, he wriggled around a bit to find the perfect position and WENT BACK TO SLEEP!

He went back to sleeeeeeeeeeeeep!

MIRACLES, you see, DO HAPPEN!

YES, my kids are DIFFICULT. But, these rewarding moments — these TEENY little rewarding moments — make it all worth while. So, even though I’m typically not a fan (to put it mildly) of  playing, arts and crafts, and even walking outside in this summer Toronto heat, I’m deciding RIGHT NOW that I will enjoy myself, and I’ll enjoy my kids, all day tomorrow. Even if there’s (inevitably) a time-out or two in the mix.

[SEGUE TO BE DETERMINDED (TBD)]

Speaking of which, today I did a beautiful thing that made me SO happy. And I have to share it with you.

While walking to my neighbourhood Starbucks (ahem), I became aware of some very loud chirping overhead. I looked up and saw a mama bird and her little babies. Adorable as they were, they were demanding little buggers — totally SQUAWKING at their mother. (And I am NOT anthropomorphizing or projecting my own DIFFICULT motherhood upon her — I SWEAR, you should have seen all them with their desperate little open beaks and their stubborn SQUAWKING!) So, I bought them a whole-grain bagel at Starbucks. And, as subtly as I could, I crumbled up the bagel and dumped it on the sidewalk below the nest. Then I sat in my car and watched. I watched the mother pick up the bagel crumbs and fly back up to the nest. And pick up the bagel crumbs and fly back up to the nest. And pick up the bagel crumbs and fly back up to the nest.

I made her life, her role, a little easier. Instead of exhausting herself further by foraging for worms, the mamabird had BAGEL RIGHT THERE beneath the nest. (Whole grain, no less!)

One mother helping another.

It was better than TV (which says A LOT for me). And I didn’t want to leave. I snuck a final peak as I drove by, and there she was. Diving for bagel and flying back up to the nest to feed her little squawklings.

It must have been a sign. A reminder that everything I’m experiencing as a mother is natural. That nature can be tough. That motherhood is fundamentally NATURAL. Fundamentally TIRING. Fundamentally CHALLENGING. That, amid all my jobs, the TV, the computer, the blackberry…, there’s still NATURE. That NATURE underlies it all. And that NATURE sends us messages and lessons at every turn. It’s up to us to notice and to heed them.

Believe me, I felt better after watching that bird. This is motherhood. This is the way it is. Instead of kvetching, I ACCEPT.

[SEGUE TO BE DETERMINDED (TBD)]

Speaking of nature in Toronto, does anyone know what THIS is?

Oh, wait, that’s MARGE!!! Hungry MARGE!!!

I meant THIS. Anyone know what THIS IS?

I saw it the other day, when I was out walking with the kids. What is it? A badger? A mole? Gopher? It’s HUGE!

Happy Birthday, Canada!
Love!
xo Haley-O

P.S. Don’t forget to check the contest over at Goodies! Trust me — you WANT this book!

I look like hell.

My hair is limp. My skin is pale. My eyes never have bags and HAVE BAGS, are LUSTRELESS. My skin is dry. My tailbone hurts. My eyelids struggle to stay ajar. My head spins. I see auras.

Just yesterday, I took the kids to the giant bookstore. Three separate people, at different times, said I was “brave” — which, as Kerry of Crunchy Carpets fame reminded me, is “better than stupid” (bless her preggers soul). But it’s not really “better than stupid” when you recall how your (also VERY preggers) sister (due yesterday!) agreed with you that very morning that your kids are “difficult.”

Is that a gray streak in my hair? Another fine line?

Yes, my kids are difficult. My husband is often away. My nanny has been away. My workload is overwhelming.

And she was so good for a while there — the Monkey. My sweet little Monkey. But, something clicked in her. I went back to work. The husband has been away more. Nanny Rachel entered our lives. School ended. She’s turning four.

She’s turning four next month.

F*CKING FOURS (as Ms. Greeners friend so PERFECTLY calls them). We have officially entered THE F*CKING FOURS.

And I am going out of my mind.

A few characteristics of the F*cking Fours:

*WHINING
*NOT. SHARING.
*SNEAKING DOWNSTAIRS AT NIGHT
*PICKY EATING
*CHANGING CLOTHES 4X/DAY
*NOT LISTENING
*PERSISTENCE — “Mama? C’I go play with Lauren? C’I go play with Lauren? C’I go play with Lauren? Mammaaahhhh! C’I go play with Lauren? Why not? C’I go play with Lauren?”

Shall I go on? The list is endless.

And me? With all this going on, THIS is EXACTLY how I feel much of the time these days (courtesy of Ms. Sam):

It’s PERFECTION.

Anyway, I have no idea what to do. And YOU KNOW that, when the only line you can think of to say to your children is “STOP IT, OR MAMA’S GOING TO CRY AGAIN,” you need help. And, no, I don’t mean FULL-TIME-nanny kind of help. I mean figuring out how to nip these f*ing fours in the bud. Figuring out how to have some semblance of control. Figuring out how to be some semblance of a role model for my children when I’m fah-REAKING out.

So, after that THIRD person in the bookstore told me I was “brave,” I b-lined it to the parenting section and picked up the only book I KNEW I could rely on:

Yeah, it’s kind of like Facebook. Like, I always said I WILL NEVER join Facebook. (And I still won’t.) I used to say I’LL NEVER BUY ANOTHER PARENTING BOOK because my instincts are as good or legit as any expert’s. Or so I thought. But, the time has come. I need ideas. I need guidance. My brain is too RAW and too SQUEEZED dry from all the exhaustion, frustration, confusion, anxiety I contend with every day. I need help. Sure, I could extend the nanny’s hours, but I made the decision years ago that I would “stay home” with the kids if I could. I’m lucky enough to have that option. Now I have to make it work — for ALL of us. And, from what EVERYONE’S told me, Canada’s favourite parenting expert Ann Douglas can help me. LOVE.

Meanwhile, I’ve picked this book up again….

Because I have to. Because, no, I CAN. While, yes, I’m working out regularly (thanks to HOTARSE kickboxing instructor *SWOON*), my diet is TERRIBLE, and it’s not helping my parenting. I’m crashing and burning, subsisting on one Starbucks Chai Tea CRACKAY all day, and dining at the end of the day on a bagel and peanut butter. Vegan? Yes. Healthy? NO.

Time to get healthy. Time to get happy. Time to get control.

You with me!?

Love!

xo Haley-O

P.S.: Gorgeouses, we’ve got GOODIES! A GIVEAWAY! Head on over to CHEATY GOODIES for three chances to win an autographed copy of another book I’m reading to get healthy and GORJ! It COULD BE YOURS! Check it!

As you can see over there in my sidebar, I’ve entered a big bloggy BEWB contest: BEWB FEST ‘09. Go on, check all the gorj bewbs — ’specially MINE (#44), keeping in mind that that is one heck of a MAGICAL camera angle and a DAMN good bra. Heh. Or not…. Yeah, go on and vote for me, please, and then come back and let me explain. MWAH!

Thank you….

Okay, so. Why would I — CHEATY!? — enter a contest like this. I, who enjoys feminist philosophy WHENEVER I GETS THE CHANCE (most recently at my latest Canada Moms Blog post on the WAHM/WOHM debate. I’m BIG PIMPIN’ again, eh?!). Some peeps have actually asked me WHY WHY WHY would I enter such a contest, and they’ve said they won’t vote or be involved whatsoever in such objectification and judgment of women because we get enough of it already in every-day life.

Okay. I get that.

But, let me tell you something. FIRST of all, this is ma girl LOTER we’re talking about — the FABULOUS Sarcastic Mom, Lotus Caroll. When Loter asked me to submit me bewbs, I was like, HELL YA, I JUST HOPE JOSH-O AND HOWARD STERN DON’T MIND IF I FLASH MA BEWBS ON THE INTERWEBS…. But, then The Loter told me this was a CLOTHED contest. Phew!

So anyway. I LOVE the idea of a bewb fest. As a self-proclaimed feminist (in my own way), I believe showing our bewbs when and if we want to, and especially in this kind of celebratory (really NOT judgmental) fashion, is a GOOD thing. Is a FEMINIST thing. I think back to when I was a teenager with larger-than-average bewbs. I was SO uncomfortable walking down the street. I’d always get hoots and whistles (both real and in my head) that made me want to go home and crawl under my bed. And I feel SORRY for that teen-aged Cheaty. I had a beautiful body, and I was ASHAMED of it.

I don’t want my daughter to have those feelings, that shame, about her own body.

These days, my body’s nowhere near what it once was. I was size ZERO back then; and now I’m size ****.  I had perfect B-cup bewbs. And now I’m — wait for it — size DD. When I was breastfeeing, though, I got as massive as size H! So, again, HELL YA!

But, I’ve been ashamed again of these ginormous DD knockers….

And what better way than a BEWB FEST like this to challenge my shame. To get me flaunting instead of hiding. FOR ONCE IN MY LIFE.

So, THANK YOU, LOTER! And thank you, GORGEOUSES, for helping me — as ALWAYS — beat my shame and go forth on my ongoing quest toward self- and bewb-acceptance.

P.S.: You can vote EVERY DAY! You know you want to….

Love!

xo Haley-O

No, I’m not balancing it all very well — the job, the kids, the BOTH AT ONE TIME, the company, the friends, family, kitties (LOVE KITTIES). Thanks for asking; I get that question all the time. I’m treating myself to CRAZY-ARSE WILD (hi!) Ayurvedic therapy at the Gurudaya Ayurveda Center in Toronto, but I go there early in the morning (the only time I can fit into my busy schedule), sometimes after — GASP — only 3 hours of sleep (have you SEEN my tweets lately: last tweet at 4am in some cases, and next tweet at 7:30am!?).

Now, please, I’ll be okay, Gorgeouses! I’ll figure this out. The 4am bedtime last night was ONLY because it was Father’s Day. I couldn’t send the kids off with Josh for the morning and do my work, as I usually do if necessary on Sundays, and our family party ended way late. I didn’t get to work until 10pm-ish, by the time the kids were tucked in….

So, yes, I’m going to bed. ASAP. I just wanted to stop in and tell you how HELLISH this day was — gotta write this for myself, really, because I need to get this out of my system so I can maybe clear my head, relax and have a good night’s sleep.

Because I’m functioning on 2 hrs of sleep, we’re going point form, BABY! — ooo, bullets! fancy! I didn’t realize I had that formatting option, LOVE! (AND, the bullets don’t work…EDIT.)

- Nanny Rachel took the day off today (she gave me TONS of notice, of course, cuz she’s that awesome).
- Thought I would take the kids out, maybe to the giant bookstore, or Casa Loma.
- We were all TRES excited about the day.
- But, then I realized I had to deliver some art first thing in the morning….
- And, then I realized I had a conference call at 12:30.
- And, then I realized I had an ASAP deadline for some bTrendie copy.
- And, then I realized I still had to finish the post I started at Canada Moms Blog before it got published with how many typos and unfinished thoughts?
- So, instead of Casa Loma, we spent the morning in the living room.
- Rascal sat on my lap.
- I typed copy one-handed.
- Rascal choked on some cereal, like, for real!
- I whacked the crap out of his back until he could breathe again.
- Then I thanked God I didn’t have to dig into the deep recesses of my mind for memories of the infant-Heimlich course I took 3 years ago, AND, of course, FOR SAVING RASCAL!
- The rest of the day was beyond struggling.
- My heart spent most of the day outside my chest, pounding it like Tarzan. AAAAaaaAAaaAAAaaa!
- I guiltfully and regretfully relied on Igor to babysit the kids while I met my deadlines (NANNY RACHEL, I NEED YOU!).
- ALL AT ONCE: I gave the kids lunch in the front yard; had a conference call with my bTrendie peeps; answered the door to a Kids Deserve Art client — I, frazzled with frizzy hair, no makeup, and cat-hair covered Lululemons….I HAVE NEVER!; and chased the kids; and chased the kids.
- Thank God for my neighbours.
- Thank God for the mute button on my phone.
- Especially since I had to take Monkey to the washroom at least twice during the call.
- No, she will not go to the washroom by herself.
- She’s scared.
- Of everything.
- We all napped for a bit after that.
- Rascal said BAGEL after that — “BAJAH.”
- We played with the neighbours after that.
- Thank God for my neighbours (and for bagels).
- Monkey was a handful (to put it mildly) throughout the manic Monday.
- She’s still awake.
- Yes, now.
- Sitting right here.
- Cuddling my neck (her signature quirk).
- Thank God for neck cuddles.

Tomorrow’s my last Ayurvedic appointment in this initial 5-day program. The treatment’s brought up a LOT of intense emotions for me, which I’m working hard to manage in the middle of all this chaos. I’ll tell you more about it, and I’ll finally RUN THE KRISTEN MA BEAUTY BOOK CONTEST, as soon as I get a spare minute. Until then, I’ll give you this: I highly recommend going to an Ayurvedic practioner (MINE, of course) as alternative therapy. I’ve basically commissioned him (and HOT-ARSE kickboxing teach, mmm…) to help me get the rest of my preggers weight off. BUT, you have to have an open mind, as well as open nostrils and ear holes…. And you have to be open for the odd wardrobe malfunction…. You have to trust this Indian Wizard Dr. Sharma and the age-old gifts of Ayurveda. Yeah, s’all good. So good. So part of my Yoga path. Something a little out there…and all FOR ME. Besides, Sharma’s totally loveable when you get to know him!

I’m too tired to post pics today — so, only one for the road….

LOVE! He loves his sister…. (That car looked A LOT smaller at the Toys ‘R US….)